Chapter 73
ELARA’S POV
Terror gripped my throat like icy claws. I bolted from my room, the crisp, perfectly folded letter clenched in my fist as if it were the only thing keeping me anchored. I burst into Kael’s office first—empty. Then I raced to his private chambers—still no sign of him. I stood in the hallway, chest heaving, mind spinning, when Clara’s voice reached me.
“Miss Elara?” She hurried closer, worry creasing her brow. “You look terrified… are you all right?”
“Where’s Kael?” I snapped, brushing past her questions. Impatience bled into every syllable. The second blank letter. The exact same pattern. The absence of any words somehow made it worse—like a scream with no sound.
“The Lycan? I—I think I saw him outside…” She hadn’t even finished before I was sprinting again, flying past startled maids and guards, the letter still crushed in my hand.
The moment I burst into the courtyard, there he was—Kael, speaking quietly with his beta. His gaze snapped to me the instant I appeared.
Concern flashed across his face, but before he could finish his sentence—“Elara, are you—” I thrust the letter toward him.
“Another one,” I said, voice tight and brittle. “Exactly like the first. Blank. My room was untouched—everything in its place, window shut, curtains unmoved. It’s as if the thing just… materialized out of thin air.”
Kael’s entire posture stiffened. He took the envelope, fingers brushing the sharp creases, eyes locked on the empty page for what felt like an eternity. When he finally looked up, I saw the conclusion forming behind his stare.
“There’s only one explanation,” he said, voice low and lethal. “Either Darius… or an enemy we haven’t identified yet.”
My breath caught. “But blank letters? That doesn’t feel like Darius. He tore through Ronan’s pack—one of the strongest Alphas alive. If he wanted to threaten me, he’d send blood, not… nothing.”
“He can’t breach our borders so easily,” his beta cut in calmly. I turned toward him. He glanced at Kael, received a curt nod, then continued. “I’ll handle the investigation personally. The Lycan already briefed me. You have nothing to fear, Miss Elara. We’ll uncover who’s behind this.”
I stood frozen, words failing me. All I managed was a faint “Thank you.” He offered a small, reassuring smile before excusing himself and disappearing.
Once we were alone, Kael faced me fully. He exhaled shakily, eyes sweeping over me—lingering on my stomach for a heartbeat before returning to my face. “How are you holding up?”
“I don’t even know anymore,” I whispered, staring past him into empty air. “I’m just… exhausted. Bone-tired.”
He said nothing at first. Then he closed the distance and drew me gently into his arms. The embrace was soft, careful, but it nearly shattered me. Tears stung the backs of my eyes. “You’re going to be all right,” he murmured against my hair.
“Go rest. We’ll sort this out. My beta’s on it, and from now on you will never—never—move through these halls without a trusted escort. I swear it.”
His worry wrapped around me like a shield, yet beneath it I could feel his own fear—sharp, coiled, barely contained.
The following days blurred into a tense, hushed limbo. Clara never left my side, and Liam—the stoic guard Kael had personally chosen—shadowed us both. The palace had become a gilded prison. Seraphina still lingered within its walls, her gaze tracking me like a predator sizing up prey. Kael had ended things with her, yes, but that hadn’t sent her packing.
Some small, suspicious part of me wondered if she could be involved… but I had no proof, and I refused to stir pointless chaos. So I kept the thought locked away.
Routine became my only comfort: stay inside, read, walk the same safe corridors, try not to think about the blank letters that haunted my dreams. My pregnancy was growing harder to conceal; the swell beneath my dresses was becoming undeniable. Stress gnawed at me constantly, but Clara’s herbal blends kept weakness at bay. I clung to that small mercy.
“I need to use the washroom,” I announced to Liam, who stood like a statue outside the library door.
His eyes narrowed. “Clara isn’t back yet.”
“I’m aware, but I can handle peeing by myself. It’s literally my own chambers, Liam. Please.”
His frown carved deeper. “Lycan Kael was explicit—one of us accompanies you everywhere.”
“Clara’s fetching herbs. That could take ages, and my bladder is about to declare war,” I half-whined, shifting from foot to foot. “I’ll be two minutes.”
He sighed, long and suffering, then pushed the door open. “Be careful. Quick in and quick out.”
“Thank you!” I flashed him a grateful smile and hurried off.
Nothing’s going to happen in broad daylight inside the palace, I told myself as I sped through the corridors. Who would be reckless enough to try?
Still, the memory of those blank letters kept my nerves frayed.
I rounded a corner at a near jog—and nearly collided with a figure blocking the hallway.
Seraphina.
Her face was a perfect mask of contempt, lips pressed thin, eyes glittering with something cold and triumphant. She let out a sharp, dismissive scoff and brushed past me as though I were beneath notice.
I started to keep walking—then stopped dead and whirled around.
“What was that for?” I called after her, irritation sharpening my voice.
She paused. Slowly turned. A tiny, venomous smirk curled at the corner of her mouth as her gaze dropped deliberately to my midsection, then flicked back up to my eyes.
The shift in her demeanor was instant and chilling—like a blade sliding silently from its sheath.
“Why?” she asked, voice syrupy sweet and dripping poison. “Should I curtsy because of your little… condition?” Her smirk widened. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”