Perhaps he could meet Alpha Zion alongside the Alpha King and sort out the confusion together. After all, no official announcement had been made about the Princess’s return, and this supposed sighting might very well be a mistake or a case of misidentification.
At least, that’s what he assumed—completely unaware of how wrong he was.
When the border patrol members arrived at Alpha Zion’s side and paid their respects, they immediately took positions on either side of his entourage to escort them to the Royal Capital.
As they approached the gates, the guards stationed atop the walls caught sight of Claire and her golden hair. Their gazes were fixed on her, as if they were observing a rare creature in a zoo. Earlier, they had hastily shut the gates upon hearing the border patrol’s battlehorn, fearing a large-scale attack—understandable, given the eastern gate’s proximity to the earlier clash with the Rogues, which caught a lot of attention.
As they drew nearer to the middle section of the capital, Claire could feel more eyes settling on her. She straightened her back, but her nerves were frayed, like someone walking toward the guillotine, awaiting execution. It felt as though her web of lies was on the verge of unraveling.
Instead of feeling elevated by the attention—admired as the long-lost princess—her heart clenched, and for a moment, she thought she might faint. But then she reminded herself: the princess had been missing for six years. Most of these people likely had no idea what the princess even looked like.
That was the very reason the Alpha King and Queen had worked so hard to shield the Royal Princess’s identity. The Royal Princess had always carried out her duties in secret, and only tales of her heroic deeds had spread among the people.
But then again, what would Claire do when she finally came face-to-face with the royal family? She had managed to maintain her lie for three long years, carefully hiding the truth as she worked toward becoming Alpha Zion’s Luna.
Yet Alpha Zion had proven far more difficult to win over than she ever anticipated—three years of effort, and still, she had failed. Now, she was out of options. The closer they drew to the Royal Palace, the paler her face became. Her body trembled with dread, already haunted by visions of being executed for impersonating the princess.
Why didn’t she run, you ask? Oh, she tried—more than a dozen times on their way to the Royal Capital. But every attempt ended in failure. She could never outrun Zion’s elite warriors, let alone Zion himself. After all, while they were enduring brutal training day after day, Claire had been living in luxury—pampered, adored, and treated like royalty. She had everything she could ask for... except Zion’s attention, his heart, or his body.
Years of indulgence had dulled her senses and softened her body. Her once-sharp instincts had faded, her strength diminished, and even her muscles had weakened slightly, giving her the fragile appearance of a flower. She didn’t look like a warrior princess, instead, she’s more like a caged canary, or a delicate bloom kept too long in a greenhouse.
She could never get far. Zion’s party had senses so sharp, they noticed the moment she wandered too far from where she was allowed to be—even if she claimed she was just going to wash up.
Her repeated attempts only put her in more danger; she’d strayed too far, too often, and more than once she nearly paid the price. Running wasn’t just pointless—it was suicide. If a monster didn’t find her, she might collapse from exhaustion. Worst case? She’d become a monster’s next meal.
"Brix, I could’ve escaped—if only you had cooperated and let me shift into my wolf form!" Claire silently blamed her wolf inside her mind, her body trembling with fear as the Royal Palace loomed just a few kilometers away. Panic surged through her as her mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of the mess she had created.
She had once thought it would be easy to feign innocence—to pretend it was all just a misunderstanding. After all, she had never explicitly claimed to be the princess. It was Zion and the others who had drawn their own conclusions. But now, as the palace grew nearer and the reality of what awaited her settled in, she realized just how naive that idea had been. Her blood ran cold. Pretending innocence wouldn’t save her—not this time.
"Ha! Do you seriously think you could run from Alpha Zion?" For the first time in three years, Claire’s ever-silent wolf, Brix, finally spoke, snorting in her mind with biting sarcasm. It didn’t sound concerned. It didn’t even sound angry. Just cold, pointed, and scornful.
"He’s an Alpha, Claire. Superior genes. Stronger. Faster. You could never outrun him. Even without Alpha Zion, his warriors alone would’ve been more than enough to catch you. And let’s not forget—you chose this." The wolf’s voice grew sharper, crueler. ’Even if they had discovered your lies back then, your fate wouldn’t have changed. Death was always waiting at the end of this path.’
Brix sounded like it was speaking to an enemy, not its own human counterpart. There was no hint of concern in its tone—only cold amusement. As if Claire’s potential death didn’t frighten it at all. If anything... it sounded almost entertained, trilled even.
"What the hell do you want, Brix? Are you still holding a grudge over that pup? We could’ve had more once we became Luna! Why are you making this harder for both of us?" Claire nearly screamed aloud, but bit her tongue at the last second. Her nails almost dug into the wolf she was riding, only stopping herself by clenching her fists around the thick fur of the elite warrior carrying her. She struggled to steady her breath, her fury bubbling just beneath the surface.
"That was OUR pup!" Brix snapped, its voice trembling with rage and grief. "You talk about it like it was just some worthless thing." There was a pause, then a sharp, wounded breath. "Yes, I hold a grudge. I despise you for what you did. But... maybe it was for the best we never brought that pup into the world..."
The sudden shift in Brix’s tone made Claire freeze. For a brief moment, she almost felt relief, thinking her wolf had finally come to understand her choices. But then Brix spoke again, quieter this time... crueler.
"It’s good you didn’t give birth to it. Because you don’t deserve to be a mother. That pup deserved better."
Then, just like that, Brix withdrew, retreating to the farthest corner of Claire’s mind, leaving behind a silence that screamed louder than any insult.
Claire’s chest heaved violently—rage, humiliation, and crushing loneliness all churning inside her. No one was on her side. Not even her own wolf. But right now, that pain was overshadowed by something far more urgent: the Royal Palace was drawing closer with every step.
Her panic mounted as she scrambled for a way—any way—to delay her judgment day. She just needed more time. Time to think. Time to find a way out of the tangled mess she’d created.