The garden behind the palace was wild.
Not the carefully trimmed rose maze that hosted royal banquets. No this garden was tucked behind iron gates, left to tangle and bloom as it pleased. It was the only place in the entire castle where Vivi could breathe.
She sat beneath a willow tree, veil lifted just enough to feel the wind on her lips.
It wasn't enough.
Not when your own family couldn't meet your eyes.
Not when every suitor left gifts but never words.
Not when they whispered that your beauty would ruin the realm.
She remembered her mother cold hands, distant praise.
"You must be perfect," she once said. "That is your role."
But perfect never came.
Instead, she brought fear.
Death.
And now… a werewolf.
Meanwhile, in the guard's barracks, Haken stared into a bowl of cold water like it might show him something other than his reflection.
He could still smell her.
Not perfume. Not powder. Just… her. Like lilacs before rain.
He should've been immune.
He'd fought demons. Been caged. Hunted. Burned.
But none of that had prepared him for the girl behind the veil.
She looked delicate. Like frost.
But her eyes… they burned like his did.
And that scared him more than any curse ever could.
"They think I'm a monster," he muttered. "But they haven't seen what I dream."
Blood. Fire. Her face. Always her face.
He clenched his fists, claws barely held back.
"I'll protect her," he whispered to no one. "Even if it's from myself."