The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow through the half-drawn curtains in Khloe's chamber. The silence in the room was almost suffocating, broken only by the rustling of parchment as Khloe poured over the endless petitions that lay scattered before her. Her eyes were bloodshot, her body too weak to stand, but her mind—her mind was sharp as ever. She had not eaten much over the past few days, not even bothering to rest. The weight of the kingdom's future pressed heavily upon her, and there was no room for distraction. Not now. Not when everything was in motion.
Her gaze flicked across each document, her hand trembling slightly, but she pushed the exhaustion aside. Every petition spoke of corruption, of betrayal, of the rot that had seeped into the very heart of the kingdom. She would not let it stand. She would not let anyone continue to poison her realm.
Khloe sat motionless in her chamber, staring at the untouched plate of food beside her. Her fingers traced the edges of the parchment spread before her, the inked words blurring together as the weight of her disappointment pressed heavily on her chest.
For two years, the plague had festered in the outer provinces, devouring crops, turning children to skin and bone, and leaving entire villages to rot. And for two years, her father had done nothing.
Nothing.
He had sent no aid, no healers, no relief. The cries of the dying had never reached his ears—or perhaps he had simply chosen not to listen.
Yet, at her wedding, the governor of one of the richest provinces had arrived looking well-fed and at ease, dressed in silks while his people were being slaughtered by witches. He had smiled at her, bowed deeply, and toasted to her future—while his own people screamed for help.
Khloe's grip tightened on the parchment. Her nails bit into the paper, nearly tearing it apart.
The king had abandoned his people. And now, the witches had seized an entire province, using innocent lives for dark magic.
This kingdom was dying.
And she was the only one who seemed to care.
A sharp knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
Jason entered first, his expression unreadable. Behind him, Leo stepped forward, his armor glinting faintly in the candlelight.
"It's done," Leo announced, standing at attention. "Kira is dead."
Khloe barely blinked.
Jason cast her a questioning look, waiting for her reaction.
She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. "Good."
Leo straightened, his posture almost expectant—waiting for a reward, perhaps.
Khloe looked at him, truly looked at him.
This man had done his job well. But there was one problem.
He knew too much.
If Kira had begged before her death, if she had spoken even a single word, then Leo had heard it.
Khloe met Jason's eyes and gave the smallest nod.
Jason moved before Leo could react. A swift flick of the blade across his throat—silent, efficient. Leo barely had time to gasp before his body crumpled to the stone floor, warm blood pooling at Khloe's feet.
Jason wiped his dagger on Leo's cloak. "Shall I dispose of him?"
Khloe didn't even glance at the corpse. "Do it quietly."
Jason gave a slight bow before dragging the body from the chamber.
She exhaled, pressing her fingers to her temple.
This was what her father's failures had reduced her to. Killing her own people.
She had never wanted to be a ruler who silenced those who served her. She had once dreamed of a just reign, of leading with wisdom and strength.
But dreams were for children.
This kingdom didn't need a kind ruler. It needed a ruthless one.
Her gaze flickered toward Olivia, who had been waiting silently by the door.
"Take this," she said, reaching for a sealed letter. "Go to the Prime Minister's estate. Give it to him personally."
Olivia hesitated. "Should I wait for a reply?"
"No." Khloe's voice was firm. "Just deliver it and leave."
Olivia nodded, slipping the letter into her cloak before disappearing into the hall.
The Prime Minister was the only man in her father's court she trusted. The only one who had ever spoken of duty rather than greed.
She needed his guidance.
Because if no one else would act—if no one else would save this kingdom—then she would.
Khloe turned to Jason. "Send word to Maria. I want her back at the palace immediately."
Jason gave a curt nod and left without another word.
Khloe sat in the silence, staring at the candle as it flickered and dimmed.
Something had to change.
Before it was too late.
---
The storm raged as Olivia rode through the darkened streets.
The capital was quieter than usual—too quiet. Even the beggars who usually lined the alleyways were absent, as if sensing that something dark was looming over the kingdom.
She tightened her cloak around herself as the Prime Minister's estate came into view.
The guards at the gate recognized her at once, stepping aside without question.
Inside, she moved swiftly through the dimly lit halls, her footsteps barely making a sound against the marble floors.
She found a servant and pressed the letter into his hands. "Make sure he gets this. It's urgent."
The servant nodded, hurrying up the grand staircase.
Olivia let out a slow breath, turning toward the exit.
Then...
A whisper.
A breath of something unnatural.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose.
She turned sharply, but the hall was empty.
Yet, the feeling remained.
She wasn't alone.
And something—someone—was watching her.
Her wolf keeps rumbling.
Yes Olivia is half wolf and half human.
Ella erase her wolf scent when she was younger.
"Come out of the dark, if you would dare!" Olivia growls.