No One Could Calm the Alpha King’s Twin Pups – Until Th… — Transcript

In the halls of the Alpha King's palace, piercing screams echo without end. The raw, relentless cries of two newborn princes left behind by their mother. They say the queen fled with her lover, leaving the Alpha King shattered and her sons inconsolable. And now the heirs to the kingdom reject every attempt at comfort. Every nursemaid fails. All healers are dismissed until Josie, a wolfless, orphaned servant mocked for lacking what every shifter is born with, was never meant to touch royal blood. Yet, when desperation drives her to the princess's side, something forbidden awakens. The crying stops. The princes grow calm in her arms. They cling to her scent and refuse all others. So, the court is forced to confront an unsettling question. What kind of bond forms before words, before choice, strong enough to tie the fate of two Alpha princes to a wolfless servant girl? And how will the Alpha King react when he discovers his sons will not give up their lowly servant? Chapter 1. Young Josie stood elbow deep in dishwater so filthy it had turned the color of old meat. Chef Margarave wouldn't accept it until he could see his reflection in the bottom. Around her, the evening shift wound down in its usual chaos. Well-dressed house servants swept in with silver platters barely scraped, their fine livery somehow making the waste they carried seem almost noble. They heaved the platters into Josie's sink without so much as a glance in her direction. A wave of dirty water hit her square in the chest. Josie gasped, stumbling back as chunks of fat and gristle clung to her already stained apron. She looked up instinctively, some small, stupid part of her still expecting an apology. But the servant was already turning away, laughing at something his companion had said. Hear those pups from the east wing now, non-stop. The king hasn't slept in. Shh, not here. They disappeared through the doorway as Josie exhaled slowly and returned to her pot. One day," she whispered to herself. One day, everyone else will see what he saw in you. "Who are you talking to?" The voice cut across the kitchen, and Josie's stomach dropped. She turned to find Norma standing in the doorway, her clean apron spotless in a way Josie's never was. At 10, Norma was 2 years younger than Josie, but she had a wolf. That made all the difference. "No one," Josie said quickly. She kept her eyes on the pot in her hands, scrubbing harder, even though the copper already gleamed. Don't react. Don't give them the satisfaction. The apple core hit her temple hard enough to make her vision blur. She flinched, her hands jerking in the water, and the pot slipped from her grip and landed with a tremendous splash. More laughter. Not just the kids now. Some of the scullery maids had turned to watch. Oi. Chef Margarave's voice boomed across the kitchen. Clean yourself up and get out of my kitchen, run. You're dripping all over my floor. Yes, chef, Josie whispered. She grabbed the rag. It reeked of onions and something sour and fled. Low, bitter laughter followed her into the corridor until her bedroom. Well, bedroom was a big word. It had been a storage cupboard once, and there was space enough for a thin straw mat. Josie pulled the door shut behind her and stood in the darkness. From somewhere far above, muffled by stone and distance, came that sound again. Thin and wavering. The crying, it never stopped. Not really. Sometimes it faded enough that you could almost forget it. But then it would surge back, piercing and relentless, a reminder that something in the palace was broken beyond anyone's ability to fix. Josie sank down onto her mat and wrapped her arms around her knees. And as always, when she needed comfort, she thought of him. Of the Alpha King Tristan, she closed her eyes and remembered. She'd been small, five, maybe six years old, and somehow she'd gotten lost in the palace gardens. And then he'd appeared, tall and golden in the afternoon light, dressed in hunting leathers. He'd knelt down in the grass beside her, and his voice had been so kind. What's this, a little lost lamb? He'd scooped her up like she weighed nothing, settling her against his chest, and carried her all the way back to the kitchens himself. She remembered the way Paula's face had gone white when she saw who was carrying Josie. The way Tristan had smiled and said something about keeping her safe, about finding her a place here despite her condition. Even then, Josie had known what he meant despite the fact that she had no wolf. "The king saved you," Josie whispered into the darkness. The king saved you. It was proof. Proof that she wasn't worthless, no matter what the others said. If a king could see value in her, then maybe she wasn't nothing. Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the crisis that had consumed the palace for weeks now. Queen Nzarin had left. The Alpha King's own mate had abandoned him and their pups. Some said she'd taken a lover. Josie's hands curled into fists. How could she? How could anyone abandon King Tristan and those poor babies left motherless? The crying seemed louder suddenly. Or perhaps Josie was simply more aware of it. How could she do that to such a good man? Josie whispered to the walls. And to her babies. No answer came. There never was one. Chapter 2. Today Paula was on breakfast duty. Josie felt it the moment she stepped into the kitchen. The way the other servants kept their distance. Paula had that effect. She didn't raise her voice. She simply had a way of looking at people that made them remember their manners. Two kitchen maids stood nearby pretending to chop vegetables but clearly more interested in gossip. My sister works in the family wing. One was saying she says it's driving everyone mad. The nursemaids are taking shifts now, four hours at a time because any longer and they start weeping themselves. The conversation died, but not before Josie caught the tail end. No mother to soothe them. What do they expect? You're late, Paula said without looking up. Wash your hands. Josie obeyed. A ball of dough waited for her, and she sank her hands into it gratefully. The crying was fainter here. The world was bearable. Then the door slammed open. A woman in a nursemaid's uniform came stumbling into the kitchen, her cap askew. Paula, the woman gasped. Paula, please, you have to help me. Paula sat down her dough and wiped her hands on her apron. Catch your breath, Mara. But Mara didn't catch her breath. The princes, she said, her voice cracking. They won't stop screaming. We've tried everything. Everything. But they just keep crying and nothing calms them. They're still at it. Four weeks now since the queen left. Quiet. Paula snapped. She turned back to Mara and gripped the woman's shoulders. What do you need? You're still nursing, aren't you? Mara's hands clutched at Paula's sleeves. Please, we need someone to try. The wet nurses have all failed. The king is furious. He's threatening to dismiss the entire staff if we can't. Paula's jaw tightened. I'll come. As Paula turned back to the counter, Josie felt something cold and heavy settle in her stomach. The pleasant morning was over. Paula would leave and Josie would be alone again. Unless. Can I come? The words were out before Josie could stop them. Paula turned, one eyebrow raised. What? Can I come with you? I can help. I can fetch things if you need them. Clean cloths or water or whatever the babies need. Paula studied her for a long moment. She can carry my supplies, Mara said. But we need to hurry, please. Paula sighed. Fine, but you stay quiet and you don't touch anything unless I tell you to. They left the kitchen at a near run, following Mara through the servants' corridors and up three flights of stairs to the family wing. Josie had never been this deep into the palace before. The halls were wider here, the floors polished marble instead of rough stone. But she barely noticed because with every step they took t

and her [music] sons inconsolable. And now the heirs to the kingdom reject every attempt at [music] comfort. Every nursemaid fails. All healers are dismissed until Josie, a wolfless, orphaned servant mocked for lacking what every shifter is born with. She was

never meant to touch royal blood. Yet, when [music] desperation drives her to the princess's side, something forbidden awakens. The crying stops. The princes grow calm in her arms. They cling to her scent and refuse all others. So, the

court [music] is forced to confront an unsettling question. What kind of bond forms before words, before choice, strong enough to tie the fate of two alpha princes to a wolfless servant girl? And how will the [music] alpha king react when he discovers his sons

will not give up their lowly servant? Chapter 1. Young Josie stood elbow deep in dishwater so filthy it had turned the color of old meat. Chef Margarave wouldn't accept it until he could see his reflection in the bottom. Around

her, the evening shift wound down in its usual chaos. Well-dressed house servants swept in with silver platters barely scraped, their fine livery somehow making the waste they carried seem almost noble. They heaved the platters into Jos's sink without so much as a

glance in her direction. A wave of dirty water hit her square in the chest. Josie gasped, stumbling back as chunks of fat and gristle clung to her already stained apron. She looked up instinctively, some small, stupid part of her still

expecting an apology. But the servant was already turning away, laughing at something his companion had said. Hear those pups from the east wing now, non-stop. The king hasn't slept in. Shh, not here. They disappeared through the doorway as Josie exhaled slowly and

returned to her pot. One day," she whispered to herself. One day, everyone else will see what he saw in you. "Who are you talking to?" The voice cut across the kitchen, and Jos's stomach dropped. She turned to find Norma

standing in the doorway, her clean apron spotless in a way Jos's never was. At 10, Norma was 2 years younger than Josie, but she had a wolf. That made all the difference. "No one," Josie said quickly. She kept her eyes on the pot in

her hands, scrubbing harder, even though the copper already gleamed. Don't react. Don't give them the satisfaction. The apple core hit her temple hard enough to make her vision blur. She flinched, her hands jerking in the water, and the pot slipped from her

grip and landed with a tremendous splash. More laughter. Not just the kids now. Some of the scullery maids had turned to watch. Oi. Chef Margarav<unk>'s voice boomed across the kitchen. Clean yourself up and get out of my kitchen, run. You're dripping all

over my floor. Yes, chef, Josie whispered. She grabbed the rag. It rire of onions and something sour and fled.

Low, bitter laughter followed her into the corridor until her bedroom. Well, bedroom was a big word. It had been a storage cupboard once, and there was space enough for a thin straw mat. Josie pulled the door shut behind her and

stood in the darkness. From somewhere far above, muffled by stone and distance, came that sound again. Thin and wavering. The crying, it never stopped. Not really. Sometimes it faded enough that you could almost forget it.

But then it would surge back, piercing and relentless, a reminder that something in the palace was broken beyond anyone's ability to fix. Josie sank down onto her mat and wrapped her arms around her knees. And as always, when she needed comfort, she thought of

him. Of the alpha king Tristan, she closed her eyes and remembered. She'd been small, five, maybe 6 years old, and somehow she'd gotten lost in the palace gardens. And then he'd appeared, tall and golden in the afternoon light,

dressed in hunting leathers. He'd knelt down in the grass beside her, and his voice had been so kind. What's this, a little lost lamb? He'd scooped her up like she weighed nothing, settling her against his chest, and carried her all

the way back to the kitchens himself. She remembered the way Paula's face had gone white when she saw who was carrying Josie. The way Tristan had smiled and said something about keeping her safe, about finding her a place here despite

her condition. Even then, Josie had known what he meant despite the fact that she had no wolf. "The king saved you," Josie whispered into the darkness.

The king saved you. It was proof. Proof that she wasn't worthless, no matter what the others said. If a king could see value in her, then maybe she wasn't nothing. Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the crisis that had consumed the

palace for weeks now. Queen Nzarin had left. The Alpha King's own mate had abandoned him and their pups. Some said she'd taken a lover. Jos's hands curled into fists. How could she? How could anyone abandon King Tristan and those

poor babies left motherless? The crying seemed louder suddenly. Or perhaps Josie was simply more aware of it. How could she do that to such a good man? Josie whispered to the walls. And to her babies. No answer came. There never was

one. Chapter 2. Today Paula was on breakfast duty. Josie felt it the moment she stepped into the kitchen. the way the other servants kept their distance. Paula had that effect.

She didn't raise her voice. She simply had a way of looking at people that made them remember their manners. Two kitchen maids stood nearby pretending to chop vegetables but clearly more interested in gossip. My sister works in the family

wing. One was saying she says it's driving everyone mad. The nursemaids are taking shifts now 4 hours at a time because any longer and they start weeping themselves. The conversation died, but not before Josie caught the tail end. No mother to soothe them. What

do they expect? You're late, Paula said without looking up. Wash your hands. Josie obeyed. A ball of dough waited for her, and she sank her hands into it gratefully. The crying was fainter here.

The world was bearable. Then the door slammed open. A woman in a nursemaid's uniform came stumbling into the kitchen, her cap a skew. Paula, the woman gasped.

Paula, please, you have to help me. Paula sat down her dough and wiped her hands on her apron. Catch your breath, Mara. But Marla didn't catch her breath.

The princes, she said, her voice cracking. They won't stop screaming. We've tried everything. Everything. But they just keep crying and nothing calms them. They're still at it. 4 weeks now since the queen left. Quiet. Paula snapped. She turned back to Mara and

gripped the woman's shoulders. What do you need? You're still nursing, aren't you? Marla's hands clutched at Paula's sleeves. Please, we need someone to try.

The wet nurses have all failed. The king is furious. He's threatening to dismiss the entire staff if we can't. Paula's jaw tightened. I'll come. As Paula turned back to the counter, Josie felt something cold and heavy settle in her

stomach. The pleasant morning was over. Paula would leave and Josie would be alone again.

Unless. Can I come? The words were out before Josie could stop them. Paula turned, one eyebrow raised. What? Can I come with you? I can help. I can fetch things if you need them. Clean cloths or water or whatever the babies need. Paula

studied her for a long moment. She can carry my supplies, Mara said. But we need to hurry, please. Paula sighed.

Fine, but you stay quiet and you don't touch anything unless I tell you to.

They left the kitchen at a near run, following Mara through the servants corridors and up three flights of stairs to the family wing. Josie had never been this deep into the palace before. The halls were wider here, the floors

polished marble instead of rough stone. But she barely noticed because with every step they took toward the royal nursery, the crying got louder. It wasn't normal fussing. This was something else, raw and desperate and utterly inconsolable.

The sound crawled under Jos's skin and settled in her bones. By the time they reached the nursery door, Jos's hands were trembling. Mara pushed the door open. Two cradles sat in the center of an otherwise beautiful room carved from

dark wood draped with silk. And in those cradles, two tiny bodies writhed and screamed with raw desperation. Three nursemaids huddled near the window, their faces hagggered. They barely looked up when Paula entered. They've been fed, one of them said dully.

Changed, burped, rocked. Nothing works. 4 hours, another nurse maid added, her eyes red- rimmed. 4 hours and then someone else takes over. Any longer and you start hearing them even when they're quiet. Paula moved to the nearest cradle

without a word. She lifted one of the babies, small, red-faced, his little fists flailing, and settled him against her chest. Shh," she murmured, swaying gently. "Hush now, little prince." The baby screamed louder. Paula tried to nurse him. He turned his face away,

wailing. She tried rocking him, singing to him. Nothing changed. In the other cradle, his brother shrieked in harmony.

Jos's feet moved without permission. She crossed the room in a daze. She reached the second cradle and looked down at the tiny, furious creature inside. His whole body shook with the force of his cries.

So Josie reached into the cradle and laid her hand on the baby's heaving chest. He went still. His eyes popped open, wide and dark and startled. He stared up at Josie as if he'd never seen another person before in his short life.

She didn't think. She simply opened her mouth and sang. It was the lullaby Paula had sung to her when she was small. The only song Josie knew all the way through. Her voice was thin and unpracticed, but the baby's breathing

slowed. his tiny fist uncurled and reached for her finger. And in the cradle behind her, the second twin's screaming stopped. "How?" Mara began, but she couldn't seem to finish the question. For the first time in 4 weeks, the royal nursery was completely,

impossibly still. "Capter 3." The nursery had gone so quiet that Josie could hear the clock ticking on the mantle. "At last," Mara breathed, then louder. "You're charmed, girl. One of the other nurse maids stepped closer.

Four weeks we've tried everything. Wet nurses, rocking songs, nothing. And you just walk in and Josie barely heard them. She couldn't look away from the twins. From Veto's long lashes casting shadows on his round cheeks, from Theon's rose bud mouth slack in sleep.

They loved her. She could tell. These perfect, royal, utterly precious things loved her without condition, without judgment. For the first time since the king had carried her from the garden all those years ago, Josie felt chosen. "Can you bring her back tomorrow morning?"

Mara said to Paula. "Please," Paula's gaze was fixed on Josie, her expression unreadable. "Yes," she said finally.

"We'll come back." And one year passed like water through cupped hands. One year of following Paula through the servants passages three times a day, of slipping into the royal nursery like a secret. Mara and Paula had tried to

guard Jos's involvement carefully. The other nursemaids were sworn to silence, but after a year, whispers followed Josie wherever she went. "The king himself couldn't calm them," a servant once said. "But a wolfless kitchen girl can. I heard they scream the moment she

leaves the room," his friend replied. "Unnatural, that's what it is." No one could explain why two royal princes would come for a nobody, a nothing, a girl without even a wolf. Though Josie didn't care about the whispers, the king

had saved her once, given her a place in his palace, and now his sons needed her, chose her. She had Veto and Theon, and they had her. The morning sun was just cresting the eastern towers when Josie and Paula slipped into the nursery. The

moment the door opened, two small heads popped up from their shared crib. Veto saw her first. His whole face lit up and he let out a shriek of pure joy, bouncing and slapping his hands against the crib rail. Theon joined in

immediately, jumping and babbling excitedly. Jos's heart swelled so suddenly it hurt. "Good morning, my little terrors," she said, rushing across the room. She leaned over the crib rail and pressed kisses to the tops of both their heads. "First Veto, then

Theon." Behind her, Paula tutued disapprovingly. Veto grabbed a fistful of her hair while Theon tried to climb the crib rail to get to her. The moment she had them in her arms, they went soft and content. She caught a glimpse of

Paula watching from the doorway, her expression fond but deeply troubled. Josie set the twins down on the thick rug and began the morning routine, wiping faces, wrestling them into fresh tunics while they wiggled and squirmed.

All the while, she sang to them. The twins babbled along in their own language, making sounds that almost resembled words. Behind them, Paula moved quietly through the room, tidying and organizing. After breakfast came playtime. The twins wanted to climb on

Josie to play their version of Peekab-boo. She obliged, of course. She always obliged. When she finally captured them both and pulled them into her lap, they went willingly, settling against her like puppies seeking warmth.

Within minutes, both of them were drowsy. Josie held them close and hummed softly, rocking slightly. This was her favorite part, when they were sleepy and content, when their whole world had narrowed down to her arms. She had never

felt so needed, so utterly, completely loved. And she couldn't help but think, "The king must know. Maybe he would come to see for himself.

Maybe he would recognize her and understand that she was meant to care for his sons. Maybe he would smile at her the way he had in the garden. "We need to talk," Paula said quietly. They stepped out into the corridor, leaving

the door cracked. "You're too familiar with the young princes," Paula said. "You forget your place." "I know my place. It's by their side because they need me," Josie said, defensive. "No one else can calm them." I know, but that

doesn't change what you are. What they are. Paula gripped Jos's shoulders. You are a servant. They are princes. If the king finds out how attached you've become, there will be hell to pay. Josie pulled away. His majesty would be

pleased that his sons are so well-loved. He's so kind. He saved me once. He'd understand. Josie. Paula's voice held a warning. Think about what you're saying.

They need me. I'm special. Maybe this is why the king saved me. Paula stared at her for a long moment.

You think the king will welcome you? Give you a place of honor. Paula shook her head slowly. Those pups will grow.

And where will that leave you? Heartbroken, cast aside. Or worse. You don't know that, Josie said. You are a servant, Josie. Never forget it. Paula turned and walked back into the nursery, leaving Josie alone. But Josie couldn't bring herself to believe it because deep

down she'd been harboring a dream. She wanted the king to discover them. Wanted him to see her with his sons, see how much they loved her so that he would love her, too. He'd saved her once before. Surely he would understand. 3

weeks later, it was an ordinary morning. Josie had dressed the twins in matching outfits, and they'd promptly undone all her work by crawling away the moment she set them down. "FTO, come back here." He squealled and crawled faster. Josie

lunged for him, and he shrieked with laughter. Theon, seeing his brother captured, crawled over at top speed, reaching for Josie with both hands. "Got you!" Josie gasped, laughing. "Got you, my little monsters!" The double doors to the nursery slammed open, and the

laughter died in Jos's throat. King Tristan stood in the doorway, tall and golden and impossibly handsome, but his eyes were fixed on her with a look of such rage, such utter revulsion that Josie felt her stomach drop through the

floor. The twins, sensing the change in atmosphere, went still. Let my children go. The king's voice was very quiet now.

Chapter 4. The king moved so fast Josie didn't have time to react. He grabbed one of the twins crib and hurled it across the room. It hit the far wall with a deafening crash, splintering into pieces. The twins shrieked. They clung

to Josie with desperate strength, their small bodies trembling violently, their screams high and terrified. Veto buried his face in her neck. Theon's fingernails dug into her arm hard enough to draw blood. Josie wrapped her arms around them instinctively, staring at

the king in absolute incomprehension. Why was he so angry? Was he under some kind of spell? The nursery doors burst open and Paula and Mara came running in.

The king whirled on them. Why? He bellowed. Does this servant child have her filthy hands all over my sons? The twins were sobbing now, their small bodies heaving with each breath. Josie barely heard them. This was all wrong.

What was her king saying? She pushed herself to standing on shaking legs, the twins still clinging to her. "Your majesty," Josie said. "Please try to understand. Your sons need me." His attention snapped back to her. The look in his eyes, cold, vicious, utterly

devoid of the warmth, froze the blood in her veins. "Need you?" His voice was soft now, worse than the shouting. "Why would the heirs to my throne need you?" He took a step toward her and she instinctively backed up. You are

nothing, less than nothing. You're a servant and wolfless one at that. He snapped. So get your filthy hands off my sons. Paula and Mara seemed to snap out of their paralysis. Sire Paula said the girl does have a sort of affinity with

the children. I'll make sure she remembers her place, but perhaps get her out of here. The king roared. His scent, sour and angry, the scent of an enraged alpha was stifling. "If I see her even look at my boys again, I'll have her

whipped in the courtyard," he said, and thrown from the palace to die in the woods like the worthless thing she is.

Jos's knees gave out. She collapsed to the floor, the twins still clinging to her, and the sob that tore from her chest was animal in its rawness. "No," she gasped. Please, please, I'll I'll only come at night, Josie. Paula's hand

closed on her elbow, trying to pull her up. Come now. Mara took her other arm, and together they tried to lift her, but Josie couldn't make her legs work. No, she sobbed. The king stroed forward and grabbed the twins by their collars,

yanking them away from Josie with such force that Veto nearly fell. The boys screamed, "High! terrified whales that cut through Josie like knives. Please.

Josie reached for them desperately, but Paula and Mara had her arms now, pulling her backward. The twins fought their father's grip, their little bodies thrashing, their arms stretched out toward Josie. They were crying so hard they could barely breathe. Then the

doors closed, and the sound became muffled, distant. But it didn't stop. Josie curled onto her side immediately pulling her knees to her chest and sobbed into her hands. Distantly, she felt Paula's rough palm against her hair. "I tried to warn you, child," she

said. "They were never yours. The words should have hurt. Should have cut. But Josie couldn't process them." "I don't I don't understand," she wailed. "Why was he so angry? I was helping them. They were happy. I made them happy." Josie,

maybe maybe if I wrote him a letter to explain. Paula's hand stilled in her hair. Child, no, you cannot. Or maybe I could wait until he's calmer and then go to him and remind him. Remind him that he saved me once in the gardens.

Remember when I was little? Josie listened to me. But Josie couldn't stop. The words spilling out faster now. It's because the queen left, isn't it? He's upset about his mate leaving. and he saw me with his sons and it reminded him and

that's why he was so angry. It has to be because he's a good man, Paula. You know he is. He wouldn't hurt me on purpose.

He gave me a home. So if I just wait until he's feeling better, until he's not so upset about Queen Nzin, then I can explain properly and he'll understand and he'll let me see them again. No. Paula's voice was firm now,

almost harsh. No, Josie, he won't. But he has to. Josie sat up suddenly, tears streaming down her face. The twins need me. Did you hear them? They were so scared and they wanted me. She dissolved into fresh sobs, her whole body shaking.

In that beautiful nursery, two babies were crying for her right now. And she wasn't allowed to go to them. So, there had to be a way to fix this. There had to be. Chapter 5.

3 days had passed since the king had thrown Josie from the nursery, and the twins screams had become part of the palace's architecture. Josie stood at the washing basin in the kitchen, her hands raw and wrinkled in the cold

water. Why doesn't she just go to them? Someone whispered behind her, one of the scullery maids, probably. Shh. Another voice hissed back. Josie's vision blurred. At least Paula and Mara hadn't told anyone what had really happened in the nursery. The other servants knew

only that Josie had been caring for the princes and was now forbidden from seeing them. They didn't know about the shattered crib, the king's rage, the terrible things he'd said. They didn't know that he'd called her nothing. Jos's

hands stilled in the water. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. The king had been so angry, angrier than seemed possible for someone that was good and kind. He'd looked at her like she was vermin, but all she'd done was

love his children. All she'd done was make them happy. There had to be a reason, some explanation she was missing. He'd been upset about something else, about the queen leaving, and he'd taken it out on her because she was

there. Or maybe he'd been trying to protect her somehow. Josie. Chef Margarav's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. That pot is clean.

Move on to the next one. Yes, Chef, she whispered. Josie was just turning toward the corridor that led to her room when the kitchen door burst open. Have you heard the news? A footman said, stumbling in. Word from the north. Queen

Nzin. She lives. She's raised an army. She's declared war to reclaim her sons. The kitchen exploded into shocked murmurss. Josie felt the words hit her like cold water. Through the sudden cacophony of voices, the twins crying seemed to cut through even louder, more

urgent, more desperate, as if they somehow knew. "King Tristan has declared Queen Nzin a traitor," the footmen continued. "The whole palace is on lockdown. No one in or out until further notice." The murmurss died. The weight of that announcement settled over them

like a physical thing. They were trapped. Trapped in a palace under siege with two inconsolable infants whose mother was coming to claim them by force. Josie lay on her thin mat in the darkness that evening, staring at the

ceiling she couldn't see. She thought about Veto and Theon alone in that nursery. Were their nursemaids with them? Was anyone holding them? Or were they just lying in their new crib, exhausted and terrified, crying themselves horse? I could help them,

Josie thought desperately. just for a little while. She sat up slowly, her heart starting to pound. It wasn't just for her. It wasn't even just for the twins. The whole palace was on edge.

Surely the king would understand that. Surely, he'd see that she was trying to help. Her feet were moving before she'd made a conscious decision. The nursery was dimly lit by a single lamp when Josie eased the door open. The crying

hit her like a wave. louder here, more immediate, more desperate than she'd heard it in three days. The twins were in a new crib, hastily constructed, not nearly as fine as the one the king had destroyed. The moment they saw her, they

threw themselves against the bars, reaching for her with both hands, their faces red and raw and streaming with tears. They'd been left alone. There were no nurse maids in sight, no one to hold them or comfort them or even sit

with them while they cried. Jos's heart cracked. "Oh, little ones," she breathed, rushing across the room. She gathered them both into her arms, heavier now, solid and warm and trembling, and they clung to her with desperate strength. They pressed their

faces into her shoulders and neck and made small, broken sounds that were somehow worse than the screaming.

"Hush," she murmured, rocking them gently. "Hush now!" The crying stopped. The twins sagged against her, their little bodies going limp with exhaustion. Within moments, their breathing had evened out. They were asleep, truly deeply asleep, for probably the first time in a long time.

Josie held them close, tears streaming down her own face. She knew she shouldn't linger. She'd done what she came to do. The twins were calm and sleeping. She should leave now before I warned you. Josie spun around, her heart

stopping. King Tristan stood in the doorway, two palace guards flanking him. His rage wasn't explosive like before.

Now it was cold, controlled. Surely you can see, Josie said desperately. I can help them. Take her, the king said to the guards. Rough hands seized Jos's arms while others seized the twins. They dragged her toward the door. Behind her,

the twins stirred and began to cry again, frightened, confused sounds. "Please!" Josie twisted in the guard's grip, trying to see the twins one last time, but they were already pulling her into the corridor. The dungeon was cold and dark and smelled of mold and old

fear. The guards threw Josie into a cell without ceremony. "The king has given his order," he said flatly. "You'll be hanged for treason at dawn." A sound escaped her throat. She was 13 years old. She'd only ever wanted to help, to

love, to be loved. How was that treason? Josie crawled to the corner of the cell and curled onto her side. All along she'd been wrong. The king had never been kind. He'd never saved her. She'd built an entire fantasy around a man who

didn't exist, and now she was going to die for it. Chapter 6. At some point, the raw terror had dulled into something more manageable, a hollow, numb acceptance. Josie was going to die. That was simply a fact. Now she sat with her

back against the wall, knees pulled to her chest, waiting. Then came the soft padding and tiny whimpers. Jos's head snapped up. She crawled forward toward the bars. As she reached them, two small shapes appeared in the dim torch light.

Wolf pups, tiny, fluffy, stumbling on legs that seemed too big for their bodies. Their fur was dark, and they couldn't have been larger than house cats. Jos's breath caught. "Veto," she whispered. "Theon, what happened to you?" The pups saw her face, and their

whimpering transformed into excited yips. They tumbled over each other to reach her, their little paws skidding on the stone floor. Veto pressed his small nose through the bars and began licking at her fingers. Theon crowded in beside him, trying to wedge his entire head

between the bars. A tear tracked down Jos's cheek. They'd shifted, but they were far too young, impossibly young.

Even Josie knew that children didn't shift until 8 or 9 years old. The earliest she'd ever heard of was four.

"The twins weren't even two." "You were too stressed, weren't you?" Josie murmured. Theon tried to climb through the bars, his chubby, puppy body getting stuck halfway. Despite everything, Josie felt a laugh bubble up. "You're ridiculous," she told them. "Both of

you." Veto's nose twitched. He'd caught a scent across the corridor. He launched himself toward it, made it three steps, then his legs tangled, and he tumbled snout over tail across the floor. Theon bounded after him, tripped over his own

paws, and crashed directly into him. Both pups went rolling, fetching up against a tall stool. Jos's heart leaped. There on top of that stool, something metal gleaming in the torch light. Keys. And beside the stool, what had attracted Veto, a crust of bread.

The bread, Josie called frantically. Get the bread. Both pups lunged for it. They began a spirited tugofwar, tumbling sideways and crashing into the stool leg. The stool wobbled. Yes, again," Josie encouraged desperately. But the pups had already forgotten the bread,

wrestling and yipping instead. Josie made a high-pitched squeaking sound. Both pups froze and looked at her. "Come here," she called. They started toward her, but Veto got distracted by his own tail. Theon stuck his nose in a crack in

the floor. Josie squeaked again. Theon bounded toward her cell, then veered off, spotting the breadcrust. He grabbed it and shook it violently. Veto charged over to steal it. They collided near the stool again. The stool rocked dangerously. The pups dropped the bread,

now trying to climb on top of each other. Theon went flying and crashed into the stool leg. The stool tipped.

The keys flew through the air and hit the stone floor with a tremendous clatter. The pups jumped, startled, then investigated this new interesting thing.

Veto tried to pick the key ring up. It was too heavy. He dropped it, shaking his head. Theon batted at them with one paw. They jingled. He batted them again, harder. They slid across the floor, away from Josie. No, no, this way. Josie

reached through the bars desperately. The pups wrestled right on top of them, oblivious to Jos's please. Then Veto got his paw tangled in the keyring. He panicked and started backing up. The keys dragged along with him, jingling wildly. He backed directly toward Jos's

cell. Theon grabbed the other end of the key ring in his teeth, pulling in the opposite direction. They moved in a chaotic sideways path that slowly brought the keys closer to Josie. "Yes, yes, keep going," Josie encouraged. Veto

gave a particularly hard yank. Theon's teeth slipped and he tumbled backward, right toward the cell. The momentum pulled Veto forward, too. Both pups and the keys ended up in a heap directly in front of Jos's cell. Jos's hands shot

through the bars and grabbed the keyring. Good boys, she breathed, tears streaming down her face. Oh, you wonderful, silly, perfect boys. The pups sat down, tongues lling out, seeming immensely pleased with themselves. Josie fumbled with the key ring, her hands

shaking. First key didn't fit. Second key didn't fit. The pups started grooming each other. Third key, fourth key. Fifth key. Sixth key. It slid into the lock with a soft click. She turned it. The cell door swung open. Josie

dropped to her knees and the pups immediately swarmed her, climbing into her lap, licking her face. "You saved me," she whispered, gathering them into her arms. Veto made a small, proud yipping sound. Theon pressed his face into her neck and sighed contentedly.

Josie stood on shaking legs and ran. She stumbled through the dungeon corridors, following the torch light upward. The pups were heavy, solid little bodies that squirmed occasionally, but they stayed mostly quiet. She pushed through the kitchen door and stopped dead. Paula

stood at the work table, a knife in hand. Josie. Her voice was barely above a whisper. They said you'd been taken to the dungeon. Her gaze dropped to the pups and her words died. Paula sat down the knife. We need to get you out of

here, she said, already moving. She grabbed a canvas pack and began filling it with supplies. And those pups need to go to their mother. Paula spread a map across the table, tracing a route north.

I'm loyal to Queen Nzin. Always have been. She's gathering forces here in the Northern Territories. Paula's voice was firm. The king is a dangerous man. He'll hurt you. He'll hurt his own sons. But the queen, she'll protect you. Take

them. Go north. Jos's eyes filled with tears. I'm scared. Please come with me. Paula's face softened. I'll stay. Lead them off your scent. By you time, but you must hurry. She pressed the map into Jos's hand and helped settle the pack

onto her shoulders. A warning bell began to ring somewhere above them. Paula pulled Josie into a tight embrace. "Go," she said. "Be safe," Jos's voice broke.

You're my only family, Paula. I love you. Paula's eyes glistened. She brushed away a tear, then grabbed Jos's arm and pulled her toward a corner of the kitchen. She yanked aside a rug, revealing a trap door in the floor.

"There's a passage," Paula said, heaving it open. "It comes out beyond the palace walls. Head northwest into the forest.

Don't stop." Footsteps echoed outside, voices shouting. "Thank you," Josie whispered. for everything. Paula's stern expression cracked. Go, child. Josie descended into the passage. Paula lowered the trap door, and the last thing Josie saw was her face before darkness swallowed everything. Josie

stood in the darkness, clutching two wolf pups who had saved her life. All right, she whispered to them. Northwest to your mother, to the queen. Chapter 7.

Josie fled through the dark forest, her heart torn in two. Behind her, somewhere in that palace, was Paula. The only person who'd ever truly loved her. And Josie had left her there. The guilt was a physical weight in her chest, heavy as

the pups in her arms and the pack on her back. But she couldn't stop. She had to get the twins to safety. The pups were heavier than she had expected. Solid, squirming weight that shifted constantly. The pack dug into her

shoulders with every step, but she kept moving. Only when the forest grew dense did Josie finally slow. She fumbled for the map Paula had given her. Northwest.

Paula had said northwest. But which direction was? A howl cut through the night. Distant but unmistakable. Tracker wolves. The map crumpled in Jos's shaking hands as she shoved it back. No time. She had to run. The pups whimpered

as she took off again. She held them tighter and pushed through the undergrowth. Behind her, the howls grew louder. Men's voices now, too. "Faster," she gasped to herself. "Come on, faster." But her legs were already giving out. Her knees shook with each

step. Without the map, without any sense of direction, Josie knew she was getting lost. Through the trees ahead, amber eyes gleamed. Josie veered hard left, crashing through a thicket that tore at her clothes. The pups yelped in protest.

"Shh," she pleaded breathlessly. But they were frightened now, making distressed sounds that seemed impossibly loud. The snarls were gaining, the thud of paws on earth growing closer until Josie stumbled. She threw herself behind a massive oak tree and sank to the

forest floor. "This was it. This was as far as she could go." Shh, little terrors," she whispered, her voice shaking. But the pups were too scared.

They whimpered and squirmed, their little bodies trembling. Through the darkness, amber eyes blinked, moved closer. The growls of tracker wolves surrounded them. Three, maybe four circling the oak tree. Josie pressed her back against the rough bark. She didn't

stand a chance. The pups' whimpers grew louder. They couldn't help it. They were babies, terrified and exhausted. Then a massive shadow moved through the undergrowth. The tracker wolf nearest to Josie turned toward the movement and a wolf unlike any Josie had ever seen

exploded from the darkness. He was huge, easily twice the size of the palace trackers with a scarred muzzle. He slammed into the first tracker with enough force to send it flying. The attack was savage, merciless. Another tracker leaped onto his back, but he

shook it off, sending it crashing into a tree with a sickening crunch. Josie pressed herself harder against the oak, her eyes wide with terror. Palace guards burst through the undergrowth, swords drawn. Rogue wolf, kill it. The lone wolf reared up and released a howl that

seemed to shake the very trees. The guards stumbled backward, their swords wavering. The lone wolf dropped to all fours and charged. The guards scattered, crashing through the undergrowth. Then there was silence. The tracker wolves were either dead or fled. The guards

were gone and the massive scarred wolf turned toward Jos's hiding spot. His eyes, pale gold in the moonlight, locked on hers. He took a step forward. Josie bolted. She didn't think, just grabbed the pups tighter and ran. Behind her,

she heard a surprised huff, almost like a laugh, and then paused giving chase. The wolf was faster, but he wasn't attacking. He was just following. Josie spotted a cluster of large boulders and dove for them, wedging herself into a

gap. The space was barely big enough, but she squeezed in. For a long moment, there was only silence. Then the sound of bones cracking. The distinctive sound of a shift. Josie pressed her hand over her mouth. The pups, exhausted, had

finally gone quiet. "Well," a deep male voice said nearby, tinged with amusement. "That's one way to thank someone for saving your life." Josie didn't respond. The voice continued casual. Those palace wolves were about to tear you apart, kid. Can't say I've

ever been run away from quite so enthusiastically after a rescue. There was rustling fabric. He was getting dressed. You can come out now, the voice said. I'm not going to hurt you. If I wanted to, I would have left you to the

trackers. Josie stayed frozen along sigh. All right, then. Let's see. Footsteps circled her hiding spot once, twice, then they stopped directly in front of the gap. A man's face appeared in the opening. He was probably in his 40s, with long unckempt hair streaked

with gray, but his eyes, those pale wolf eyes, were sharp, with something that might have been kindness buried beneath the weariness. "There you are," he said mildly. "What are you doing wedged in there? Can't be comfortable." Josie stared at him, trembling. He studied

her. Then his expression softened. I'm not going to hurt you. I just saved you from trackers who very much wanted to hurt you. Remember? Jos's voice came out as a croak. You killed them. The man shrugged. Some of them. He said it

without apology. They were hunting a child carrying babies. I don't take kindly to that sort of thing. Jos's arms tightened around the twins. The man noticed and huffed a soft laugh. Easy, Mother Wolf. I'm not going to take them

from you. He settled on the ground a few feet away. I'm Bram. What's your name?

When Josie didn't answer, he shrugged. That's all right, but you should probably come out of there. Those guards will regroup eventually. "How do I know you're not going to take me back to the palace?" Josie asked. Bram's expression

hardened. because I'd sooner cut off my own arm than help that bastard king with anything. The venom in his voice was real, raw. So slowly, cautiously, Josie began to edge out of her hiding spot.

Chapter 8. Josie stared up at Bram's tall form, her heart hammering. She wanted so desperately to trust him. But trust had gotten her nothing but pain before. "You don't like King Tristan?" she asked, her voice barely above a

whisper. Bram snarled. The king has no honor. I'd rather have no pack than belong to his. Emboldened by his clear hatred of the man, Josie took a chance.

She shifted the twins slightly in her arms. They'd drifted off to sleep during her hiding. They're the king's sons, she said, nodding down at them. I need to reunite them with their mother. Her voice broke slightly. Will you? Will you

help me? Bram glanced down at the sleeping boys, then back at Josie. "Those are the princes?" he asked, stunned. Josie nodded. "And they're here alone with a 10year-old?" Bram asked, dumbfounded. Josie huffed. "I'm nearly 13, and I'm all they have." She looked

down at the sleeping pups. "And they're all I have?" Something shifted in Bram's expression. He groaned, then snatched her map and studied it briefly in the moonlight. I'll walk you to the river crossing, he said gruffly. About half a

day's journey from here. But after that, kid, you're on your own. Relief flooded through Josie. Thank you. Don't thank me yet, Bram said, already turning deeper into the forest. We've got a lot of ground to cover before dawn. Can you

walk? The river crossing came and went. Bram didn't leave. The water's too fast here, he'd said, barely pausing.

We<unk>ll need to go upstream. Another few hours. Those few hours turned into a full day, then another. There's a village near here, Bram announced on the third morning. Royal sympathizers, we'll need to go around. That'll add another day, maybe two. By the end of the first

week, Bram still hadn't left them. Josie stopped questioning it. She simply accepted that Bram was staying, at least for now. The days fell into a rhythm that was almost peaceful. Bram taught her how to set proper snares. At night,

they slept in a formation that felt sacred. Bram stretched out in his massive wolf form. Josie with her back against his warm flank, and the twin pups curled against her stomach. One morning, Josie watched in horror as Veto

discovered a rabbit snare Bram had set. The little pup approached it cautiously, then pounced. The snare collapsed immediately, and Veto found himself tangled in cord and sticks. He yelped, thrashing. Theon rushed over to help and promptly got tangled himself. Within

seconds, both pups were a yipping, rolling ball of fur and rope. Josie rushed over, but Bram was already there, kneeling down with surprising patience.

His large, scarred hands worked gently through the tangles, freeing one pup, then the other. "Easy, little warriors," he murmured. "You've conquered the fearsome rope trap. Very impressive." Veto, finally freed, shook himself indignantly and immediately tried to attack the remains of the snare. Bram's

lips twitched. He glanced up at Josie, who was trying hard not to laugh. "They're going to destroy every trap I set, aren't they?" he asked. "Probably," Josie admitted. Bram sighed. "That night, after the twins had fallen asleep, Bram fed another stick into

their fire. We<unk>ll reach the foothills tomorrow," he said. After that, it's maybe three more days to the Northern Territories. Jos's heart sank.

And then you'll leave. Bram didn't answer immediately. He poked at the fire, sending sparks spiraling up. I left Tristan's pack when he banished my brother, he said finally, his voice low.

My brother was injured in one of the king's wars. Took a wound that never quite healed right. He couldn't shift properly anymore. He shook his head.

Tristan said he was too weak. Josie watched him in the firelight, seeing the pain in his face. I should have left with him that day, Bram continued. But I stayed, told myself I was a man of honor. A few weeks later, I found my

brother dead. He looked up at Josie, his eyes fierce. If I'd left when my brother needed me, he'd still be alive today.

Jos's eyes burned. The Alpha King destroys anyone he deems unworthy," Bram said, his voice rough. "But I won't let that happen to you. I won't let any harm come to you or those boys." Josie believed him. "Get some sleep," Bram

said. "We've got a long walk ahead of us tomorrow." She was just drifting off when the first howl echoed through the trees. Jos's eyes snapped open. Bram was on his feet instantly. "Get behind that tree. Take the pups and the supplies.

Stay down." Josie grabbed the pack and scooped up both pups. Through the trees, she could see shadows moving. Tracker wolves, at least four of them, and guards with torches and swords. Bram surged to his feet and launched himself

at the first tracker wolf before it could enter their camp. The fight was brutal. One of the guards broke through, heading straight for Josie. Without thinking, Josie kicked the dying embers toward him. The hot coals scattered across his face, and he screamed. Bram

was on him in an instant, driving his branch into the man's chest. The others fled, but then Bram made a sound. A low groan of pain that sent ice through Jos's veins. She scrambled out from behind the tree. Bram had fallen to his

knees, one hand pressed to his side. Blood seeped between his fingers, dark and too much. Josie said, her voice rising. It's not healing. Why isn't it healing? Bram ground out through clenched teeth. poisoned. What do we do?

Bram tried to push himself upright and failed. There will be more. They'll have heard the fight. We have to move. You need to rest. It's not safe. He tried again. We keep moving now. Josie stared at him. All right, she said, her voice

steadier than she felt. We move, but I'm helping you walk. Bram gripped her arm and levered himself to his feet. He swayed and Josie braced herself to take his weight. Together they stumbled forward into the dark forest. They would

make it. They had to. Chapter nine. They stumbled forward across terrain that had finally flattened, rocky and sparse, but blessedly clear after weeks in the dense forest. Bram walked beside Josie, leaning heavily on her shoulder. Every step seemed to cost him, his face gray

with pain and exhaustion. But they were so close now. She looked up and saw it spread across the wide valley ahead. A massive camp. Dozens of canvas tents, cook fires sending black smoke into the gray sky. Figures moving with purpose

between the structures. An army. Bram, she said, her voice cracking. I think we're here. Bram lifted his head with visible effort. They pushed forward one agonizing step at a time. The camp was a hive of activity. Soldiers sharpening

weapons, armor smmiths hammering at forges, scouts reporting in. No one noticed them at first. "Somebody," Josie called out, her voice cracking. "Please help!" A few soldiers glanced their way, but didn't stop. "Please!" Josie shouted, putting every ounce of strength

she had left into her voice. More heads turned. People started to notice this filthy girl supporting a bleeding man and wolf pups. At that moment, Bram's legs gave out completely. He collapsed, his weight pulling Josie down with him.

They all hit the rocky ground hard. Bram didn't make a sound, didn't move. Suddenly, people were rushing toward them. Soldiers, camp workers, a woman in healer's robes. The twin pups scrambled to Josie, whining with fear. A woman with gray streaked hair knelt beside

Bram, turning him onto his back. She glanced at Josie with sharp eyes. "What happened, child?" she asked. Jos's words tumbled out. "We were attacked by King Tristan's army. Bram fought them off, but one of the guards had a poisoned

blade." The woman examined Bram's wound, pulling aside his blood soaked shirt. "I need to find the queen," Josie said desperately. The twins need someone fetch her majesty, the woman called over her shoulder. A soldier sprinted away.

What's your name, girl? Josie, she said. I'm Pandra. I'm going to help your friend. Soldiers appeared with a canvas stretcher and carefully lifted Bram onto it. His eyes were closed, his face ashen, but his chest still rose and

fell. Meanwhile, Pandra glanced at the twin pups. Unusual to shift so young. Josie pulled them closer protectively.

They're special. Before Pandra could respond, a powerful feminine voice cut through the gathered crowd. "What's the meaning of this?" it asked. The crowd parted. The queen appeared. Josie immediately knew it was her. Tall and regal and beautiful even in fighting

leathers. Her dark hair pulled back in a severe braid. Her eyes swept the scene, then locked on the twin pups pressed against Jos's legs. Recognition and disbelief flashed across her face. Her hand went to her mouth, her eyes filled

with tears. Then she was running. She dropped to her knees and gathered both wolf pups into her arms. "My babies!" she sobbed. "My babies! You've come back to me!" She held them and wept, her whole body shaking. The pups pressed

closer, nuzzling against her, their tails wagging slightly. They recognized their mother's scent instantly. The entire camp had gone silent. "Who?" She pulled back, her voice thick with emotion. "Who brought you back to me?" Josie found herself suddenly visible as

the queen's gaze locked on her. Her face went absolutely white. "You," she whispered. Fear trickled cold down Jos's spine. "They were lost without you," she hurriedly said. "I tried to keep them safe. I'm sorry if I did something

wrong." Nzarin reached her and cupped Josie's face in both hands. Her touch was warm. Careful. Her eyes were filled with tears. "You brought my sons back to me," Nessin said, her voice trembling.

"I tried," Josie managed. Up close, Josie could see the queen's hands shaking. See the way her eyes searched Jos's face with an intensity that bordered on hunger. The queen pulled her into an embrace. Josie went stiff with shock, but the queen held her with the

same desperate relief she'd shown her sons. "Thank you," Nezarin whispered against Jos's hair. When they pulled apart, Nzin kept both hands on Jos's face. "What's your name, child?" she asked, her voice strained. "Jossie?" The queen flinched as if the name had struck

her. "Jossie," she repeated. "How old are you, Josie?" "13, I think." Nzarin's eyes closed briefly. When they opened, they were swimming with tears. She pulled Josie close again, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Behind them, Pandra called out urgently. "Your

Majesty, the wounded man. We need to get him to the healing tent immediately." Nzin pulled back, but kept one hand on Jos's shoulder. "Who is he?" she asked.

Jos's voice broke. "Bram, he helped us, protected us." Fierce determination flashed across Nzin's face. Take him to my personal healer, she commanded. Use whatever you need. I want him alive.

Pandra nodded and followed the soldiers carrying Bram's stretcher. Nzin turned back to Josie, brushing a strand of dirty hair from her face. You must be exhausted. When did you last eat? Sleep?

Josie couldn't remember. I'm fine. The twins. The twins are home now. Nzan smiled through her tears. Her hand trembled against Jos's cheek. And so are you. You're home, too." Josie frowned.

All she could think about was Bram lying pale and still on that stretcher and the twin pups pressed warm against her sides. They were here. They were safe.

And the queen had held Josie like she was something precious. Josie didn't understand any of it. Chapter 10. Josie woke to the warmth of two small bodies pressed against her chest. The twin pups were curled together on top of her,

their soft breathing steady and peaceful, and sitting in a chair beside the bed was Queen Nzin. Jos's heart jumped. Nzarin raised a hand gently.

"Easy, you're safe here." Josie settled back against the pillows, her arms instinctively curling around the twins.

The queen's expression softened. "Thank you again. I don't think I can ever thank you enough for what you've done." Josie nodded politely, not trusting herself to speak. Nzarin studied her face and frowned. "Is something the matter? Are you still hungry? Cold? Do

you need anything?" Josie shook her head, looking away. She stroked the pups's soft fur, focusing on the feel of it beneath her fingers rather than the queen's searching gaze. She wanted to ask about Bram, but she didn't know if

she had the right to demand anything from a queen. Nezarin's voice was gentle. It's all right, child. If there's something you need, you can tell me. Josie hesitated. She'd trusted a king before, built her whole world around his supposed kindness. She

wouldn't be that foolish again. But Nezarin reached out slowly, and Josie flinched back before she could stop herself. The queen froze. Her scent changed, not angry, but sad. Painfully sad. Nzin withdrew her hand. I apologize. I didn't mean to startle you.

Josie swallowed hard. The queen didn't smell angry. Didn't look threatening. She looked down at the pups worriedly and the words came out small and frightened. They haven't switched back.

Nzin leaned forward slightly. What do you mean? Jos's throat tightened. Not since we left the castle. They've been pups the whole time, and I don't know why. And I Her voice cracked, tears burned in her eyes. Josie cried out. I

should have made them feel safe. I should have done better. Nzarin's voice was firm but not unkind. Stop. This is not your fault. Josie shook her head.

But I was taking care of them. And Nzin said, her own voice thick with emotion.

They're babies. Babies who were taken from their home, from everything they knew. Babies need stability, security, familiar surroundings. Of course they were scared. Not even their own mother.

A queen with an army could have prevented that. She paused. So it is certainly not your fault. Do you understand me? Josie wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. The queen said, "You were incredibly brave. You

saved them. You kept them alive and brought them home when no one else could have. I am so Her voice broke. She whispered, "I am so proud of you." The words settled around Josie like a warm blanket. She didn't understand why the

queen looked at her like that, but something in Jos's chest loosened. Josie asked quietly, "May I see Bram? I need to know if he's if he's going to be all right." Surprise flickered across Nzin's face, but she recovered quickly. "How

about you rest for a bit longer? I'll go check how he's doing and ask the healer if you can visit him later." "All right." Despite the tension still coiled in her stomach, Josie found herself nodding. Nzin stood, "Good sleep. You're

safe now. I promise." Josie tried to stay awake, but the bed was so soft, and the twins were so warm that sleep pulled her under like a tide. When she woke again, the tent was darker, and Queen Nzin hadn't returned. Josie carefully

extracted herself from beneath the sleeping pups. She had to find Bram. had to see for herself that he was all right. Josie slipped out and let her nose guide her. Even without a wolf of her own, she could track Bram's scent.

It led her to a larger tent on the far side of camp. Inside, a soldier sat sleeping near the entrance. Beyond him, rows of cotss held injured soldiers, and at the very back, she could see Bram. He was lying unconscious, his chest bare

and bandaged. And beside his cot, bending down to check his wound, was Queen Nzin. Josie froze. Suddenly, Bram's eyes snapped open. His hand shot out, and he pressed a knife against Nzin's throat. "Where are the kids?" he growled. "Narin didn't flinch. She

reached up slowly and gently removed his hand from her throat. "They're safe, sleeping," she said calmly. She helped ease Bram back down as he blinked at her, clarity slowly returning to his eyes. You're the queen, he sighed. The

twin's mother. Nezarin nodded. Bram stared at her for a long moment, his brow furrowing. Have we? Have we met before? He asked. No, I don't think so.

Why? Your scent, it seems familiar somehow, Ram said, sounding confused. Then he seemed to remember himself that he was lying in bed, having just held a knife to a queen's throat. I apologize, he began. I didn't mean to. No apologies

necessary. Nezarin interrupted. You were protecting my children, even unconscious. She paused. I owe you a great debt, sir, for bringing them all back to me. Bram shrugged uncomfortably.

It was all Josie. She got them out of the palace. She kept them safe. She's one brave kid. Nazarin tensed visibly at his words, though her expression remained neutral. Yes, she nodded. She is. Bram studied the queen's face. What

are you planning to do with her? He asked. What do you mean? Bram pushed himself up to sitting despite the obvious pain it caused. She brought you back your pups. Great. Happy for you.

But now, what's going to happen to her? Jos's breath caught. She pressed herself closer to the tent wall, her heart hammering. I don't plan to send her back to the king if that's what you're wondering, Nzin said. Glad to hear it,

sweetheart. Bram snapped. But there is a world of difference between not being sent to her death and being properly taken care of. She's just a kid. She'll be needing guidance. Guidance? Nin repeated. You know what I mean? Bram met

her eyes. Someone to look out for her, care for her. I assure you the child will be well taken care of," Nezarin said, looking away. Bram sighed. "Right, but the kid's been through a lot. It's not just about giving her food and

shelter." "What are you saying?" Nzin asked quietly. "I could take her," Bram met her eyes again. "Take care of her.

I'll do it." Jos's hand flew to her mouth, holding back a gasp. "You do that?" Nzin asked, sounding genuinely touched. Bram shifted uncomfortably.

Well, somebody has to. Might as well be me. Narrin was quiet for a long moment.

When she finally spoke, her voice was gentle but firm. That's very kind of you to offer, she said. Truly, but it's one I cannot accept. Josie will stay here with me. Why? Bram frowned. Did you even ask her if she because she is mine?

Nzarin interrupted. Bram just gaped at her. Josie is my daughter, Nzaring continued. From her hiding spot, Josie felt the world tilt sideways. You're You're serious, aren't you? Bram stammered. You said yourself my scent reminded you of someone. Nezin pointed

out quietly. Bram's eyes widened as realization crashed over him. You're saying Josie is a princess and that is why you smell like her? Nezarin confirmed. Yes, she said. a princess and King Tristan's firstborn child and heir, one he rejected the moment he discovered

she couldn't shift. Josie staggered backward, her hand pressed to the tent wall for support. The king. The king who she'd idolized. He was her father. When Josie was born without a wolf, it didn't matter to me. I loved her. Nzarin said

she was beautiful, mine. But Tristan, her voice hardened. Tristan was furious. He demanded that our daughter be killed, said she was defective, an embarrassment. Josie couldn't breathe. I begged him for her life. Nzarren continued, "I said I would try to give

him full shifter pups would keep trying, but only if he let her live." "And he agreed," Bram asked. "Yes," Nzarin's voice cracked. But to keep me compliant, he took her from me. Josie, my baby.

Fresh tears ran down her face. I wasn't allowed to hold her or nurse her or even see her. Not until I gave him his heir.

His proper heir, the queen explained through her tears. I was a prisoner in my own palace for 12 years. Endured miscarriage after miscarriage, all while my daughter lived floors below me, and I couldn't even speak to her. Bram cursed.

Bastard. That absolute bastard. But it wasn't enough, Nessin said, her voice hollow. When the twins were born, when I'd finally given him what he wanted, he still wouldn't let me see her. I realized then that he never intended to

keep his word, that Elodie. She paused and took a breath and corrected herself, that Josie wasn't safe, that none of my children were safe. So, I tried to escape with all three of them. I was caught. Nzin's voice was flat. Tristan

had me arrested for treason, was going to execute me in front of the entire court. But those loyal to me, servants like Paula, they helped me escape. Jos's heart lurched at Paula's name. I fled to my family, my old pack. Nzin finished,

gathered an army, declared war. Not for the throne. I don't give a damn about the throne, but for my children. Silence fell. Josie stumbled backward, her hand falling from the tent wall, and turned to run, but she only made it a few steps

before a hand caught her shoulder gently. "Jossie?" she turned. Nzin stood there, tears streaming down her face.

Their eyes met. "Is it true?" Josie asked. Nzin nodded, and Josie began to cry, great heaving sobs that tore from her chest. "You have to keep fighting," she said. You have to stop him. For Paula, for everyone he's hurt. I will,

Nzarin swore. I promise. Josie threw herself into her arms. The queen caught her, holding her close, and they both wept. For the years they'd lost, for the cruelty they'd endured, for Paula's sacrifice, for everything that had been stolen from them, but also for the

impossible fact that despite everything, they'd found each other again. Epilogue. Bram's recovery was slow but steady, and Josie visited him every day.

At first, she'd come alone, slipping into the healing tent to sit beside his cot and tell him stories about the twins. But as the days passed, she noticed she wasn't always his only visitor. One evening, as the sun dipped

low and painted the canvas walls amber, Josie approached the healing tent to find Nezin already there. The queen sat beside Bram's cot, sleeves rolled up, carefully unwrapping the bandages around his torso. Bram was watching her face with an expression Josie had never seen

on him before. "You're terrible at following orders, you know that?" His voice was teasing. "Nzan said something too quiet for Josie to hear, and Bram huffed a laugh that made him wse." "Pretty sure I told you to stop fussing

and let the healers do their job," he said. And I'm pretty sure I told you to stop being so stubborn. Bram caught her wrist gently. I'm serious, your highness. You don't need to. I want to.

Their eyes met and held, the air between them thickening with something warm and waited. Josie felt suddenly like an intruder. A smile tugged at her lips as she turned away. She found the twins exactly where she'd left them. Two wolf

pups sprawled on a blanket outside Nezin's tent, playing with carved wooden animals. They'd finally shifted back to their human forms a week after arriving at camp. Josie had woken to find two small boys instead of pups, and she'd

nearly cried with relief. Now they switched back and forth constantly, as if making up for lost time. Theon spotted a butterfly landing on a nearby flower and pointed his nose at it urgently. "Yes, I see it," Josie said.

"It's very pretty, but you have to be gentle." "Too late." Theon bounded after it. Veto gave chase. Within seconds, both pups were tumbling through the grass, yipping excitedly. Josie laughed and lay back on the blanket, letting the last warmth of the sun wash over her

face. Above her, the sky turned from gold to pink to deep purple. She heard footsteps and opened her eyes to find Nezin standing over her, silhouetted against the sunset. "How is Bram?" Josie asked. "Healing well. There was something soft in Nezarin's eyes.

Stubborn as ever, but healing, they sat together in comfortable silence. Eventually, both pups tired themselves out and trotted back. Theon curled up in Nezin's lap, and Veto flopped against Jos's side with a dramatic sigh. As darkness settled and the stars wheeled

overhead, Bram made his way slowly from the healing tent. He settled himself on the grass beside the blanket with a low groan. "Should you be up?" Josie asked.

"Should you be mothering me?" Bram countered. Veto yipped happily and scrambled over to climb into his lap.

Bram winced but helped the pup, settling him carefully against his chest. You're getting heavy, little warrior. Theon lifted his head from Nzin's lap and whed softly. I stay with your mother, Bram said. There's not enough lap for both of

you. Josie watched them exchange a look over the pups' heads, something warm and knowing passing between them. Then Nzin smiled at Josie. They love you, she said, looking at the twins. They trusted you when they couldn't trust anyone

else. Because I smelled like you, Josie said, her voice thick. Because you are their sister, Nzin corrected gently. The fire crackled between them, sending sparks spiraling into the star-filled sky. Josie looked at her small, fierce family. Nezarin beside her, Theon

sleeping in her lap. Bram with Veto curled against his chest. Tomorrow would bring more preparations for war. King Tristan wouldn't surrender easily. But tonight, for this one perfect moment, they were just a family.

Thank you so much for listening. I hope you enjoyed this story. I tried something new this time by adding a bit of background music to the introduction, and I'd really love your feedback. Did you enjoy it, or did it distract you

from the story itself? Let me know what you think in the comments. And as always, if you'd like more, feel free to check out my Patreon for extra content, bonus chapters, and exclusive stories.

The link is in the description. Much love Lily.