Chapter 71
HARDIN’S POV
The training field was loud again.
Wolves shouting. Bodies hitting the ground. Dust lifting from the earth as Hardin slammed another warrior down so hard the man couldn’t rise.
Hardin didn’t even look at him.
“Next,” he said, voice cold.
Everyone hesitated.
Not because they were scared of losing—
but because Hardin had become someone else.
He wasn’t the calm, patient Hardin they knew before.
He was angry.
He was restless.
He was fighting like a man with nothing left to lose.
Because he was.
Rhianna was gone.
And every second she stayed missing, something inside him broke even more.
He took another opponent, flipping him to the ground with a sharp growl. His chest rose and fell fast, his wolf pacing inside him with panic and rage.
“Hardin.”
Tia’s voice cut through the noise.
He turned sharply. She looked tired… no, not tired. Drained.
Her hair was messy, her eyes swollen from crying, her hands shaking.
She walked toward him like she had no strength but refused to fall apart in front of others.
“Hardin, stop,” she whispered. “You’ve been training since dawn.”
He didn’t answer. His jaw tightened.
“I can’t stop,” he said. “Not until I find her. Not until I get strong enough to take that title.”
Tia looked at him, her voice cracking.
“You think becoming Alpha will bring her back?”
Hardin stared at her with eyes burning.
“No,” he said softly. “But it will give me the power to turn this whole pack upside down if someone hurt her.”
Tia swallowed hard.
“You really think someone took her.”
Hardin didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
He didn’t believe the lies going around anymore.
Rhianna ran away.
Rhianna couldn’t handle the shame.
Rhianna left the pack.
Rhianna would NEVER.
She would have come to him.
She would have told Tia.
She would have said goodbye—something. Anything.
But she didn’t.
Because she couldn’t.
Something happened.
Someone planned it.
And Hardin was going to find out who.
TIA’S GUILT
She moved closer and lowered her voice.
“It’s been a week, Hardin.”
He froze.
A week.
Seven days of waking up expecting to hear her voice.
Seven days of searching every forest path.
Seven days of shouting her name into the empty night.
A week of nothing.
Tia’s lips trembled.
“It doesn’t feel real. She wouldn’t leave me. She wouldn’t leave you.”
Hardin closed his eyes.
His voice was low, rough.
“She didn’t leave.”
Tia looked down and whispered—
“Alden is blaming himself.”
Hardin’s eyes snapped open.
“What?”
Tia wiped her face with her sleeve.
“He keeps saying… if he had listened to Rhianna… if he didn’t tell anyone about her condition… maybe she wouldn’t have been targeted.”
Hardin’s chest tightened.
Alden. The healer who always protected Rhianna. The healer she begged to stay quiet.
The healer who told the council.
And because of that—
Brittany replaced her.
The pack whispered about her.
Her wolf broke.
And now she was gone.
Hardin clenched his hands into fists until his knuckles turned white.
“Where is he?” he asked.
“In his house,” Tia murmured. “He hasn’t slept. He keeps repeating that he failed her.”
Hardin swallowed hard.
Everyone was falling apart.
And she wasn’t even dead.
He refused to believe that.
Refused.
THE ALPHA TITLE
Tia stepped closer.
“The Alpha council meeting is in two days,” she said quietly. “They’re going to challenge Sebastian’s right to stay Alpha since he… since he replaced Rhianna so quickly.”
Hardin’s eyes darkened.
Good.
Maybe the universe wasn’t blind after all.
“And they want you to take the trials,” Tia continued. “You’re the strongest second heir. If you win, you become Alpha.”
Hardin tilted his head slightly.
“Sebastian will fight back.”
“He should,” Tia muttered with a bitter laugh. “He only cares about his damn title anyway.”
Hardin didn’t reply.
He already made his decision.
He would take the trials.
He would fight Sebastian.
He would take the pack.
Because if Rhianna ever came home, she deserved a place that wouldn’t destroy her again.
Tia stepped closer, voice softer.
“You’ll win, Hardin. I know you will.”
Hardin looked away.
“I’m not doing this for power,” he said. “I’m doing this because someone needs to answer for what happened to her.”
His eyes turned sharp.
“And because I swear on my wolf—I will find her. Even if I have to burn this whole pack down to the ground.”
Tia closed her eyes, tears running silently.
“I miss her,” she whispered.
Hardin’s voice broke for the first time in days.
“I miss her too.”
Days passed softly.
Aurora’s life inside the royal palace moved like warm water—slow, gentle, but never truly sinking into her bones. Everything looked beautiful: silk curtains swaying in the morning breeze, polished marble floors, rose gardens stretching beyond her balcony. Everyone treated her with careful kindness, almost fearful respect.
But she still felt hollow, like she was walking inside someone else’s footsteps.
Every morning, maids greeted her with bright smiles.
“Good morning, Lady Aurora. Your bath is ready.”
“Would you like jasmine tea? It was always your favorite.”
Always your favorite.
Always your habit.
Always your routine.
She nodded politely each time, even though none of it felt like hers.
The queen often watched her with soft, assessing eyes—as though checking if Aurora fit into the story they had created for her. The king remained distant but kind, a silent pillar who accepted her presence without question.
Kairo was the one who hovered closest.
Not in a romantic way—not for her, at least.
He treated her with the kind of protectiveness that felt rehearsed, as if it were his duty rather than his desire.
He made sure she ate.
Made sure she rested.
Made sure she didn’t walk alone.
Aurora thanked him, but inside she felt numb.
No spark.
No flutter.
No sense of belonging.
Just a quiet ache.
A Routine That Wasn’t Hers
Her days became predictable:
Breakfast with the royal family.
Lessons on etiquette she supposedly once knew.
Walks in the palace gardens.
Polite conversations with nobles who swore they had known her forever.
At first, she tried to push away every strange tug in her chest—every shadowy image that flickered in her mind.
But sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she saw:
• a boy’s gentle smile
• another boy glaring protectively
• someone calling her name—not Aurora, but Rhianna
• whispers of laughter under moonlight
• the warmth of a hand holding hers
• a girl crying, “Rhianna, don’t leave!”
Then it would vanish.
Like a dream dissolving at dawn.
She never told anyone.
The healer had said the flashbacks were “normal.”
Kairo said she shouldn’t push herself.
The queen said she only needed rest.
So she stayed silent.
Let everything wash over her.
Smiled when expected.
Spoke only when spoken to.
Her life felt peaceful.
But not right.
Like she was living inside a painting—beautiful, still, and empty.
A New Chapter, A Growing Echo
Little things began to feel familiar.
The palace hallway near the east wing made her chest tighten—like she had run through it once, crying.
The training grounds made her palms itch—like she had held a sword before.
The scent of pine brought a strange comfort—like someone she cared about carried it in their skin.
And sometimes when she passed a mirror, her reflection startled her.
Not because she looked different—
but because she looked like a stranger who wore her face.
Still, Aurora moved with grace through the palace, learning rhythm, learning peace, learning how to breathe in this new world she was told belonged to her.
Everyone believed she had returned home.
Everyone expected her to settle into the role of Kairo’s future bride.
Everyone thought the past was better forgotten.
And Aurora believed them—
or at least, she tried to.
Because nothing from before made sense.
Nothing felt solid enough to hold.
So she let her life flow naturally.
Step by step.
Day by day.
Memory by faint, flickering memory.
Until the truth—her truth—would finally rise.