One by one, the doctors flipped through the reports. The deeper they read, the more their brows furrowed. Tension filled the room like a tightening thread. Addison, watching their reactions closely, felt her chest constrict. Her hands curled tightly in her lap, and at last, she couldn’t hold back her growing dread.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice a mix of fear and hope. "Did you find out what caused their fever?"
The doctor who had been documenting everything looked up at Addison, letting out a heavy sigh before shaking his head.
"Unfortunately... no," he said, handing her a copy of the test results before beginning his explanation.
"We ran multiple tests using their blood. There’s no sign of an allergic reaction to anything they ate during dinner, and all other indicators appear normal. Based on everything we found... the conclusion is that the children are experiencing a common cold."
Upon hearing this, both the Alpha King and Queen exhaled in relief, their shoulders visibly relaxing. But Addison didn’t share their sense of ease. Instead, her expression grew more serious, concern tightening her features.
It didn’t add up.
The twins were protected by the Saintess’s divine blessing—an enchantment that shielded them from ordinary illnesses. They had never been sick, not even once since birth. A simple cold shouldn’t be able to affect them at all. Even the Royal Healer, who had recognized the divine protection surrounding them, couldn’t offer a logical explanation.
That contradiction made Addison’s worry deepen. Something was clearly wrong—something beyond what the surface revealed.
Then, like a lightbulb switching on in her mind, something clicked for Addison. She leaned forward slightly, her voice hopeful but cautious."Do you think... my twins might be going through an early awakening? Is it possible they’re starting to awaken their wolves too soon—and their bodies just aren’t ready for it yet?"
The question hung in the air, and for a moment, everyone turned to look at her. It wasn’t far-fetched. Addison herself had awakened her wolf earlier than most, and they remembered the toll it had taken on her body. If the twins had inherited powerful wolves, their young, still-developing bodies might be struggling to handle the sudden surge of energy. It would take time for the vessel—the body—to strengthen enough to fully assimilate with the soul of the wolf.
The doctor paused, his expression thoughtful. "Hmm... it is possible," he said at last. He turned on his heel and moved quickly to check on the twins again, this new possibility suddenly more comforting than the fear of an unknown illness or, worse, something tied to the northern plague.
Hearing this, the Alpha King, Queen, and Addison all let out a breath they hadn’t realized they were holding. The tension in their shoulders eased slightly as the weight of worst-case scenarios lifted—if only just a little.
Meanwhile, in the left wing where the Guest Palace was located, Zion tossed and turned in bed, clearly unsettled. Shura, his wolf, was whining and howling for no apparent reason, adding to his restlessness. A strange unease gnawed at Zion, his chest prickled with a dull ache, and his stomach churned like something inside him was out of sync.
Several times, he kicked off the covers, ready to dash into the forest surrounding the Royal Palace to clear his head. But each time he reached the door, he stopped, teeth clenched in frustration.
The Royal Beta had ordered him not to leave the room unless absolutely necessary due to the heightened security measures around the palace. So, reluctantly, he would turn back, pacing restlessly like a caged beast, feeling the tension inside him grow with each passing minute.
He was just about to return to bed when the door suddenly burst open, making Zion instinctively jump back to create distance. To his shock and growing irritation, Claire stepped inside, barefoot and clad in a sheer nightgown that left little to the imagination.
Zion’s expression immediately darkened as he glared at her. "What do you think you’re doing?" he growled through clenched teeth.
He had hoped—foolishly, perhaps—that being in the Royal Palace would finally make Claire act with the dignity expected of a princess. More importantly, he had already made it crystal clear that he wasn’t interested in her. But it was obvious Claire hadn’t given up.
For her, this was a now-or-never moment. She had backed herself into a corner, and the only escape she saw was forcing Zion’s hand, getting him to claim her. That way, when she attended the upcoming banquet, even if someone discovered she wasn’t the real princess, she could still plead innocence. She would claim she was there not as royalty, but as Zion’s newly claimed Luna.
And Zion, bound by duty and guilt, would be forced to protect her. After all, she had never outright said she was the missing princess. If he made the assumption on his own, that wasn’t her fault. Or so her twisted logic went.
But her plan had a glaring flaw: Zion still hadn’t succumbed to her advances. That failure was making Claire increasingly desperate—and tonight, she had decided, was her last shot.
"Zion... I feel so hot... help me... please?" Claire’s voice trembled as she looked up at him with pleading eyes, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She was doing everything she could to convince him she was going into heat, a sudden, overwhelming need to be claimed by a male werewolf.
Though going into heat was rare for unmated she-wolves, it wasn’t unheard of. In special cases it can happen, such as the loss of a mate or an abrupt surge in sex drive, a she-wolf could experience a spontaneous heat. But in Claire’s case, it was all carefully staged.
She had drugged herself, mimicking the telltale symptoms: flushed skin, dilated pupils, desperate need. On top of that, she had sprayed herself with a pheromone booster to complete the illusion. A genuine heat would cause a she-wolf’s pheromones to flood the air with their scent; it was their body’s instinctual cry for nearby male werewolves to come and claim her.
Now, all she needed was for Zion to believe and fall for it.
Zion wrinkled his nose the moment Claire’s pheromones hit him. Instead of arousing him, the scent turned his stomach. It was overwhelming, cloying, and slick with an unnatural bitterness that made his insides churn. Disgust twisted his features as he instinctively took a step back the moment Claire moved closer.
Claire froze in place, stunned. The open revulsion on Zion’s face struck deeper than she expected. She hadn’t anticipated this, his disgust, his rejection. A pang of hurt flickered in her chest, and though she couldn’t quite name the emotion, she knew her pride had just taken a sharp blow. But she couldn’t retreat.
Not now.
Tears welled in her eyes, whether forced or real, even she wasn’t sure anymore, as she took another tentative step forward. "Zion, I... I really need your help. Please..." she choked out, her voice cracking as she reached toward him with trembling hands.
Zion’s expression only darkened, turning icily venomous. "If you need someone to fuck you, go find another alpha desperate enough to give you the time of day. I’m not your solution," he snapped coldly. "Now leave."