The guard left and everything moved fast
Vaelor was out of the tent in seconds, shouting orders. Guards scrambled. Horns blew. The entire camp came alive like someone had kicked an anthill.
I sat on the bed holding the twins, both of them awake now from all the noise.
Five hundred soldiers. Coming here. For my babies.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
The healer rushed in. "Give them to me. You need to get dressed."
"I'm not leaving them—"
"You're not. But you can't sit here in your nightclothes while the camp prepares for war." She took Caelum gently. "Trust me. They'll be safe."
I handed over Lyra too. Watched the healer settle them in their bassinet.
Then I got dressed. Simple pants and a tunic. Boots. My hands fumbled with the laces.
Through the bond, I could feel Vaelor. His calm control. His focus. No panic, just strategy.
How did he do that? Stay so calm when everything is falling apart?
I left the tent. The camp was chaotic. Men running everywhere. Weapons being distributed. Tents coming down. Horses being saddled.
I found Vaelor in the center of it all, surrounded by his generals. Big men in armor, all of them talking at once.
"—position archers on the ridge—"
"—need to scout their approach—"
"—evacuate the civilians—"
Vaelor's voice cut through them all. "Enough. One at a time."
They kept talking. Planning. Military stuff I didn't understand.
I stood there feeling useless. Out of place.
Then one of the generals noticed me. "Your Majesty, perhaps the lady should return to her tent—"
"No." I stepped forward. "They're coming for MY children. I have a right to know the plan."
The generals exchanged looks. Like they thought I was a hysterical woman who'd just get in the way.
Made my blood boil.
"Gentlemen," Vaelor said quietly. "This is my mate. Your Luna. She stays."
The way he said it left no room for argument.
The generals bowed their heads. "Of course, Your Majesty."
I moved to stand beside Vaelor. He didn't look at me but I felt his approval through the bond.
"Continue," he told his generals.
They spread out a map on the table. Showed troop positions, terrain, possible attack routes.
"We have maybe two hundred fighters," one general said. "They have five hundred. We're outnumbered more than two to one."
"Then we don't fight them head-on," another suggested. "We use the terrain. Set traps. Guerrilla tactics."
"That'll slow them down. Won't stop them."
"We could evacuate. Move the King and his family to safety—"
"And where?" I asked. "They'll just follow. Hunt us down wherever we go."
The generals looked at me like they'd forgotten I was there.
"She's right," Vaelor said. "Running won't solve this."
"Then we negotiate," a third general offered. "Send envoys. See what they want."
"We know what they want," I said. My voice came out harder than I meant. "My children. Dead or under their control. There's no negotiating that."
Silence around the table.
Then I had an idea. Probably a stupid one. But I said it anyway.
"What if we go to them instead?"
Everyone stared at me.
"That's insane," one general said.
"Hear me out." I pointed at the map. "They're coming here expecting a fight. Expecting us to defend this position. What if we don't? What if we pack up and go to the Crownlands ourselves? Show up at their doorstep with the twins?"
"That's suicide," another general said.
"Is it? They want to examine the babies. Fine. Let them. On our terms. In front of witnesses. In their own stronghold where everyone can see." I looked at Vaelor. "If we show up voluntarily, we control the story. We're not running scared. We're coming to prove the twins aren't a threat."
The generals were shaking their heads. Muttering about how dangerous it was.
But Vaelor was looking at me differently. Thinking.
"It's bold," he said slowly. "Unexpected."
"It's reckless," a general argued.
"Maybe. But she has a point." Vaelor studied the map. "The Council expects us to fight or flee. Showing up willingly would throw them off balance."
"They could kill you the moment you arrive—"
"They could try. But I'd be walking in as King, with my mate and heirs. Killing me openly would start a civil war."
The generals didn't look convinced.
"Think about it," I pushed. "Right now they're painting us as criminals. Hiding something dangerous. But if we walk in openly, cooperate with their examination, show the twins are just babies—"
"Powerful babies," a general interrupted.
"Still babies. Still innocent." I met each of their eyes. "The Council wants a war. I'm saying we don't give them one."
Vaelor was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded. "We do it. Start preparations to move to the Crownlands."
"Your Majesty—"
"That's final." He looked at me. "Are you sure about this?"
"No. But it's better than waiting here for them to come kill us."
His mouth quivered slightly. "Fair enough."
The meeting broke up. Generals left to prepare. New orders were shouted.
We were going to the Crownlands.
I'd just volunteered to walk us into the lion's den.
---
Later that night, after the chaos settled, I was back in the tent with the twins.
They were fussy. Sensing the tension maybe. Or just being babies.
Vaelor came in looking exhausted. Dropped into the chair like his legs gave out.
"Long day?" I asked.
"You could say that."
I was feeding Lyra. She kept latching and unlatching, frustrated.
"Here." Vaelor came over. "Try holding her more upright. Helps with the air."
I adjusted. Lyra settled and started eating properly.
"How'd you know that?" I asked.
"I've been reading. There's a whole library of books on child-rearing in my tent."
"You've been reading baby books?"
"Don't sound so surprised. I want to know what I'm doing."
Something about that made my chest warm. This powerful Lycan King reading books about how to burp a baby.
"Tell me about you," I said.
He looked up. "What?"
"Your life. Before all this. I don't know anything about you except you're King and you left me in a cave."
"Are you ever going to let that go?"
"Probably not."
He smiled. A real one this time. Made him look younger. Less... kingly.
"What do you want to know?" he asked.
"Why are you King so young? You can't be more than what, twenty-eight?"
"Twenty-nine. And I became King at eighteen."
"That's too young."
"My parents were assassinated." He said it flatly. Matter-of-fact. But through the bond I felt the old pain. "Poison at a formal dinner. They died before the healers could do anything."
"I'm sorry."
"It was eleven years ago. I've had time to deal with it."
Except he hadn't. Not really. I could feel it through the bond. The weight he carried. The loneliness.
"Must've been hard," I said. "Taking the throne that young."
"I didn't have a choice. No siblings. No other heirs. It was me or watch the realm fall apart." He leaned back in the chair. "I thought I'd have more time. Thought I'd find my mate, have a family, be ready."
"Instead you got me Pregnant and Running. A complete mess."
"Instead I got you," he agreed. "And you're not a mess. You're surviving."
"Same thing sometimes."
"No. Surviving is choosing to keep going. Being a mess is giving up." His eyes met mine. "You never gave up. Even when you should have."
Lyra finished eating. I burped her, then laid her down next to her brother.
Vaelor was still watching me.
"What?" I asked.
"I never thought I'd find my mate. Stopped looking years ago."
"Why?"
"Because being King doesn't leave room for much else. Every woman who showed interest wanted the crown, not me." He stood, moved to the bassinet. I looked down at the twins. "Then I found you. Bleeding. Terrified. Still trying to fight."
"I wasn't fighting. I was dying."
"You saved my life. Could've kept running. Could've left me there. But you didn't."
"I'm an idiot apparently."
"You're kind. There's a difference."
The twins were both asleep now. Finally peaceful.
Vaelor reached out, touched Caelum's tiny hand with one finger. Our son's fingers curled around it automatically.
"Everything changed," he said quietly. "The moment I woke up in that cave and saw you. I didn't know it then. But everything changed."
My throat went tight.
This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to feel things for him.
But through the bond, I could feel what he felt. The truth of his words. The affection growing in him. The hope.
He looked up at me. We were standing too close. The bassinet between us but not enough distance.
"Aelara—"
A cry cut him off. Caelum, awake again and mad about it.
The moment broke. Vaelor picked up our son, started rocking him.
"I should probably learn to feed them too," he said. "In case you're not around."
"The bottles are over there. The healer left them earlier."
He grabbed one, settled in the chair with Caelum. The baby latched onto the bottle and went quiet.
We sat there. Me on the bed. Him in the chair. Both of us were exhausted.
"Tomorrow we start training," he said.
"Training for what?"
"Self-defense. If we're going to the Crownlands, you need to be able to protect yourself."
"I just gave birth two weeks ago. I can barely walk across the room without hurting."
"The bond accelerated your healing. You're stronger than you think."
"I'm really not—"
"Test it. Try to stand up."
I did. I expected my legs to shake. Expected pain.
But I stood easy. Steady.
"Now try this." He stood, still holding Caelum. "Punch me."
"What?"
"Not hard. Just try."
"I'm not punching you while you're holding our son."
"Fine." He laid Caelum back in the bassinet. "Now try."
I made a fist. Threw an awkward punch at his chest.
He caught my hand easily. "Terrible form. But you're faster than you were. Stronger."
"That doesn't mean I can fight."
"No. But it means I can teach you." He adjusted my hand. "Thumb on the outside. Hit with these two knuckles. Aim for soft spots in the throat, solar plexus, groin."
His hands on mine. Guiding. Teaching.
The bond hummed between us. Aware. Alert.
I pulled away. "Tomorrow. I'm too tired tonight."
"Tomorrow," he agreed.
But he didn't leave. Just stood there looking at me.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing. Just... I'm glad you're here. Safe."
"We're about to walk into enemy territory. 'Safe' is relative."
"As long as you're with me, you're safe. I promise."
Through the bond, I felt the weight of that promise. The absolute conviction.
Made me believe him even when I shouldn't.
A commotion outside broke the moment. Running footsteps. Someone shouting.
Vaelor was at the tent entrance instantly.
A messenger appeared. Covered in mud, breathing hard. "Your Majesty. A letter. From the Council."
He handed over a sealed envelope. The Council's mark in red wax.
Vaelor broke the seal. Read. His face went dark.
"What does it say?" I asked.
He handed it to me.
The letter was formal. Cold. Demanding we bring the children to the Crownlands for examination within seven days. Or they'd declare the twins abominations and send forces to eliminate them.
But at the bottom, in different handwriting:
*Come alone, little scholar's daughter, and perhaps we'll tell you what your parents really died for. - Threx*
My hands started shaking.
"He's taunting me," I said.
"He's baiting you. I want you to come without protection. Without me."
"He knows about my parents. About what really happened."
"Which is exactly why you're not going anywhere without me." Vaelor crushed the letter in his fist. "We're going to the Crownlands. Together. And we're ending this."