HarlynI dial the number and wait. Each ring worries me. If Father answers, which he has a few times, I have to hang up quickly so he doesn’t know it's me.“Harlyn!” Samuel’s voice comes through the phone, instantly making me smile, but at the same time, tears begin to fill my eyes.“Samuel, it’s good to hear from you,” I reply. “I wanted to do our usual check-in,” I explain. Our phone calls are rare, and they are the only way I know that everyone is alive and well at home. We have agreed on no big updates, if less they are life-and-death sitauations, it’s for the best.“Harlyn, I need you to come home, please,” Samuel says, and I notice the worry in his tone.“Samuel, that’s not possible. I was exiled, remember?” I remind him. My heart is craving to go home and see them, but it’s not possible.“Please, Mother wishes to see you, Harlyn,” he pleads. I wish he could understand this.It isn’t easy to refuse, but going back is going against my father's orders, and that won’t be good for a

HarlynWalking in, I see someone standing ahead of us; I watch as he turns, and I can’t stop smiling.“Harlyn?” Samuel stares at me. He looks so different.“Sam!” I cry. Running to him, I wrap my arms around him in a tight embrace. Emotions flood through me. It’s been too long. Eight years is a long time not to see your family.“You came,” he whispers.“I wouldn’t refuse Same, not when it’s likely the only chance I will get to see you again,” I remind him. I look at him and smile.“Come say hello to your uncle,” I look at the pups, and watch as Isaac and Lotta walk forward, Thorin however stands looking at him. I watch as Samuel kneels and speaks to Lotta and Isaac, after introducing himself he turns to Thorin.“You must be Thorin,” Samuel asks. Thorin cautiously steps forward, and I watch as Samuel goes to embrace him.“I am,” Thorin speaks. He offers his hand to Samuel to shake, rather than accepting the hug. Once he knows Samuel he will allow him to hug him, right now he is cautiou

Harlyn“Harlyn,” I hear Samuel call out my name. I turn to look at him. He moves and sits next to me.“Are they okay?” I ask, my eyes glancing towards the manor.“Colton is entertaining them. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me you were engaged?” He asks.My mind goes back to that call and I explain it to him.“Harlyn, please tell me that you have settled. I worry that you’re still alone.” Samuel’s voice quakes with worry. That will only increase if I tell him I have no fixed home and I’m still trying to find a pack to accept me.“Samuel, how is Mother doing?” I ask, wanting to know how she is dealing with the situation.“Would you want to know the answer if it hurts you, Harlyn?” He asks, and my heart shatters knowing I don’t.“Would you, Samuel?” I reply, and the call goes quiet. “We can’t do this, Samuel; updates cause more pain. They remind me of what I’m missing.” I fight back the tears.The last time we spoke, he told me he had taken over and become Prince Stefan’s first

StefanI watch as she embraces Lucy, my eyes taking her in. Is this really Harlyn? Something about her seems so different. She’s no longer the child I saw her as.If anything, she’s a woman, grown far more than anyone I know. My eyes look across her, and I feel I am missing something.I stand dumbfounded. Harlyn barely even looks like herself. She hasn’t even noticed we followed.Diandra steps towards Lucy and Harlyn and pulls me with her. “You returned?” Her words annoy me, and I watch as Harlyn looks towards Diandra.“Harlyn, this is Princess Diandra from Wicklore Pack.” Lucy introduced her, which was good, as I was still speechless.“Oh, I apologise, Your Highness, I didn’t know.” Harlyn does a small curtsy. Who is this woman?“Are you planning to stay?” Diandra asks, and I’m glad she did. I want to know if she will stay.“I am not staying, no,” Harlyn speaks, and I stare, shocked. She’s leaving? Surely not? Why would she leave?“Why? You just got back.” Lucy complains.“I’ve nothi

StefanI found myself in a moment of confusion. My hand instinctively reached out to clasp hers, an impulsive act I couldn’t rationalise at the moment. Yet, as our hands connected, a surge of familiarity washed over me, reminiscent of that unforgettable encounter with the mysterious woman.How could this be? The logical part of my mind rebelled against the notion, but the sensation lingered, stubbornly refusing to be ignored.Even after she withdrew her hand, the ghost of her touch lingered on my skin, a palpable reminder of everything.I glanced at her, silently questioning the absurdity of the situation. Could it truly have been her that night? Common sense argued otherwise. After all, why would Jacub, my trusted guard at the time, ever orchestrate such a reckless manoeuvre, jeopardising the friendship between the royal family and Earl?But despite the rational arguments against it, she felt undeniably similar to the woman I had been relentlessly searching for. Determined to unravel