The castle feels wrong the moment Kael steps through its gates.
Something has shifted in his absence - a tension in the air that makes his skin crawl, servants who scatter like frightened mice when they see him, guards whose eyes hold secrets they're afraid to speak. Even the stones beneath his feet seem to whisper of changes he doesn't understand.
"Your Highness," Captain Sly appears at his elbow as Kael strides through the main hall, still in his travel-stained leathers. "His Majesty requests your immediate presence in the throne room."
"My father is here?" Kael's steps slow. The King wasn't supposed to return for weeks. "When did he arrive?"
"Three days ago, Your Highness. There have been... developments in your absence."
The word 'developments' sits like ice in Kael's chest. In the language of courts, developments are never good. They're the kind of changes that reshape kingdoms and destroy lives.
"What kind of developments?"
"Perhaps His Majesty should explain, Your Highness."
*****
Kael finds his father seated on the throne like a monument to ancient power, but there's something different about the King tonight. A satisfaction in his cold smile that makes Kael's instincts scream warnings.
"Ah, my prodigal son returns." King Aldric's voice carries across the vast hall. "How were the eastern territories? I trust the rebellions have been... adequately addressed?"
"The lords have been reminded of their oaths," Kael replies carefully, studying his father's face for clues. "The situation is stable for now."
"Excellent. And I'm sure the distance gave you time to think. To consider your priorities."
"My priorities have always been clear, Father."
"Have they?" The King rises, moving down the steps with predatory grace. "Because I've made some fascinating discoveries in your absence. Discoveries about the nature of your... pet."
The bottom drops out of Kael's world. "What discoveries?"
"Oh, come now. Surely you suspected? "You knew she was different. The question is - did you know exactly what she was?"
Kael's mind races. He'd suspected, yes. Had seen her eyes flash silver, felt her bones try to reshape themselves that night. But he'd kept it secret, told her to do the same, hoping against hope that whatever she was could remain hidden.
A flash of bitter realization cuts through him - his own arrogance, his certainty that he could protect her simply by possessing her. He'd removed her collar, paraded her through court, made his attachment so obvious that even the servants whispered about it. Every public display of possessiveness, every moment of jealous rage, had painted a target on her back. He'd been so focused on claiming her that he'd made her impossible to ignore.
"She's werewolf," he says, because denial is pointless now. "I suspected it during the blood moon transformation attempt."
"Suspected." The King's laugh is sharp as winter wind. "My dear boy, you don't suspect a summer shower when you're standing in a hurricane. Your little pet isn't just any werewolf - she's Princess Lunaria Valenheart, last heir of the royal wolf bloodline."
The words hit Kael like physical blows. Princess. Royal bloodline. The girl he's claimed, marked, possessed - she's not just a wolf. She's wolf royalty. The daughter of the very kings his father hunted to extinction.
"That's impossible," he breathes.
"Is it? Think, Kael. The birthmark on her shoulder - a perfect crescent moon, the royal seal of House Valenheart. The way every vampire instinct in you responds to her despite yourself. The reason you've been willing to destroy your own family for her."
"Where is she?" The question comes out raw, desperate.
"Safe. Secure. Exactly where she needs to be for what comes next."
"The tower," Queen Elenora's voice cuts through the tension as she emerges from the shadows. "She's in the tower, chained in silver. As befits her station."
"Chained?" Kael's voice rises to a roar that echoes off the stone walls. "You chained her in silver?"
"Silver prevents transformation," the King explains with clinical detachment. "We couldn't risk her accessing her full power before the trap is complete."
"What trap?"
"Word has gone out to every corner of the realm - Princess Lunaria Valenheart lives, and she's being held in the capital. The surviving wolves are already coming, drawn by bonds of blood and loyalty they can't resist. When they arrive..."
"You'll slaughter them all." Understanding crashes over Kael like a wave. "You're using her as bait."
"I'm finishing what I started twenty years ago. The final solution to the werewolf problem."
Kael takes a step toward the door, but his father's voice stops him cold. "I wouldn't, if I were you."
The prince turns back, his eyes blazing with fury that makes the temperature in the hall drop ten degrees. When he speaks, his voice carries the kind of quiet menace that has made grown men weep. "Nothing will keep me from her."
"Won't it?" The King gestures, and guards emerge from the shadows - not moving to restrain Kael, but positioning themselves with military precision. "Captain Sly, please escort Prince Kael to his chambers. He seems... overwrought from his journey."
"You're killing her." The words come out broken, desperate. "Silver poisoning will kill her before your trap even springs."
"Oh, she'll live long enough. Wolf constitution is remarkably resilient. She'll survive just long enough to watch her people die for her, and then... well, then the bloodline ends forever."
Kael's hands clench into fists, but he doesn't move. Not yet. The guards are ready, waiting for him to make a mistake. "She's mine."
"No," the King says with finality. "She belongs to the realm now. To history. To the greater good of vampire supremacy."
"I'll kill anyone who tries to keep me from her."
"Including me?" King Aldric's voice carries genuine curiosity. "Would you strike down your own father for a wolf? Even a royal one?"
The question hangs in the air like a blade. In the silence, Kael can hear his own heartbeat, the whisper of the guards' breathing, the distant sound of his world crumbling around him.
"Yes," he says finally. "Without hesitation."
"Then you've chosen." The King's voice carries something that might be disappointment. "Captain Sly, Prince Kael will be residing in his chambers until further notice. For his own protection, of course."
"You can't imprison me in my own castle."
"I can do anything necessary to protect this realm from poor judgment. Your judgment, specifically." The King settles back onto his throne like a man who's won a war. "Consider it protective custody. For your own good."
Kael could fight. Could unleash the full extent of his vampiric power and cut through these guards like paper. But that would only confirm his father's belief that he's lost to reason, and it would accomplish nothing except ensuring he never reaches her at all.
So instead, he turns and walks from the throne room with deadly calm, each step controlled and precise. The guards fall in around him - not dragging or forcing, but forming an escort that's clearly prepared for violence if he changes his mind.
As they move through the corridors, Kael catches sight of Princess Lyra in the shadows. Her violet eyes are bright with tears, but she shakes her head minutely - a warning.