Welcome home.

Driven by the source of the echoing blast, Amara slipped out the backstage exit and sprinted. Adrenaline surged, fueling her flight as her sharp, light grey eyes darted around. She ran with the urgent grace of a bat fleeing a dark corner, her instincts pulling her forward. Abruptly, she found herself at the edge of a cliff, a natural dead end she hadn't registered in her pursuit. Unknowingly, the loud explosion had drawn her beyond familiar territory.

Amara turned, her gaze sweeping over the unfamiliar surroundings, a knot of unease tightening in her chest. She knew she should turn back, that lingering here courted danger. But as she pivoted, a different sound drifted up from below the precipice – a powerful rush of wind intertwined with another, deeper resonance. Curiosity snagged her attention. Slowly, she approached the edge and peered down.

Thick green foliage obscured whatever or whomever was causing the disturbance. Yet, a sudden, undeniable impulse seized Amara. Without hesitation, she launched herself into the air, a swift, headlong dive. The ground rushed up to meet her, and the impact, though absorbed by her practiced landing, still sent a tremor through the earth. She straightened, her expression hardening into a serious mask as she faced the unseen.

“Show yourself, foul beast!” Amara’s voice cut through the stillness, carrying across the distance. The only reply was a heavy silence.

Long, quiet minutes stretched.

Then, with cautious steps, Amara began to move forward. Her posture remained guarded, her pace deliberate and unhurried, her unwavering gaze fixed on the space ahead. Her mind was a quiet hum of alertness, every sense on high alert. Yet, beneath the caution, a strange undercurrent pulsed – a feeling that this place, whatever it was, was calling to her in a way that felt distinctly… wrong.

"What?" Sergei murmured, a furrow creasing his brow in confusion.

"Did he do it?" Barbara asked, a musing tone in her voice, betraying no hint of disapproval at the thought of harm coming to the fox woman. In fact, the idea seemed to sit quite well with her, given the perceived threat.

"Barb," Sergei began, a note of warning in his tone.

Barbara turned, her expression a blend of amusement and annoyance, a disbelieving smile playing on her lips as she faced Sergei. "Isn't it obvious? The longer we let that fox woman stay here, the more danger we're in. She's a clear and present threat."

Mina, who had been quiet until now, looked away, a flicker of memory in her eyes. She gazed upwards, lost in thought for a moment.

"I saw her, Barb," Sergei interjected, "she didn't seem like—"

"Seem like what exactly?" Barbara cut him off, her voice sharp. "An innocent face doesn't negate the fact that she could be incredibly dangerous."

Sergei started to speak, then clamped his mouth shut, swallowing his words.

"No, she's not a threat," Mina stated firmly, her voice cutting through their bickering, causing both Sergei and Barbara to turn towards her, their argument momentarily forgotten.

"When I saw her," Mina continued, her voice softer now, "she was lost and confused. It made me think she belongs somewhere else and somehow ended up here, in our world." She paused. "She wanted to go back to where she came from; she has no desire to stay here... But..." Mina's voice trailed off, her words slow and hesitant.

"But what?" Barbara prompted, her initial annoyance still lingering.

Mina remained silent for a moment, searching for the right words. "I just... I don't think she's what we think she is," she finally murmured.

"Oh, please," Barbara scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Maybe," Mina added, a hint of uncertainty in her voice, "just maybe she's not all that bad."

"That's it, I'm out," Barbara sighed dramatically, turning and heading for the door, leaving Sergei standing there.

"Barb?!" Sergei called after her, taking a step forward but then stopping, his gaze shifting slowly to Mina.

He hesitated, considering his next words. "Is she... alive?" he finally asked.

Mina was silent for a beat, then offered a small, almost imperceptible nod.

"Where is she now?" Sergei pressed, curiosity evident in his voice.

"I have no clue, but I have a feeling His Majesty might," Mina replied flatly.

Sergei paused, nodding slowly to himself, lost in thought. Without another word, he turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Mina lay still, resting, the silence of the room settling around her.

"Catherine, huh."

"I wonder where she is now."

The fox woman's name escaped her lips in a soft murmur. Mina's mind replayed the encounter, a curious intent warring with a lingering doubt about Catherine's true nature.

"You were attacked by some unknown, vile animal, Your Majesty?" Eddie asked, a flicker of concern in his eyes. His hands were held slightly in front of him, a subtle tension in his posture.

The two men, Eddie and Jasper, were alone in the meeting room, the atmosphere having taken an abrupt turn towards unease.

"Honestly, it's nothing to lose sleep over," Jasper waved off, trying to sound nonchalant. "At first glance, it seemed like any other creature..." He paused, adding with emphasis, "But. This being... it felt out of place, like it belonged somewhere else entirely. I don't know where it came from, but it spoke of some kind of lord."

"What did it look like, sir?" Eddie inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Jasper fell silent for a moment, his arms crossing as he delved into his memory, trying to recall the details of his encounter, the struggle he'd had with the strange entity.

"Like a goddamn thing dragged straight out of hell," Jasper finally muttered, his voice rough and low.

Eddie absorbed this description in silence, his expression shifting to one of deeper confusion. He remained quiet, giving Jasper space to continue.

"Cancel the upcoming party at the palace, and any other events for the time being," Jasper stated, his tone firm and commanding. He turned to meet Eddie's gaze directly, his hands now resting in front of him. "Let everyone know what happened to me, and instruct the guards to be on high alert, to patrol the grounds with stricter vigilance."

Eddie nodded, composing himself. "Yes, Your Majesty." He turned and headed for the door, opening it and exiting the room, closing it quietly behind him.

Jasper sank onto the nearby couch, settling into a relaxed posture, though the events of the day still lingered in his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment, replaying the encounter.

Catherine found herself on a deserted road, an unsettling emptiness stretching in every direction. No sign of life, no distant figure, just the silent expanse as she walked. A faint sense of unease prickled at the back of her neck.

"I really hope this road leads somewhere," she murmured to herself, "preferably miles away from that palace."

A shiver ran down her spine. "I don't know why, but if I'd stayed there any longer... I'd have been in serious trouble."

A soft sigh escaped her lips. "I mean, I got a decent vibe from that Jasper guy. He was nice, even though he looked like he could swallow someone whole... but still... I really need to get home, and fast."

Muttering to herself, Catherine tried to get her bearings. After what felt like an eternity of wandering, a low murmur of voices drifted from just around the bend. She froze. A few figures were approaching, their voices growing clearer as they drew nearer. Lost in conversation, they hadn't noticed her. Instinctively, Catherine darted behind a thick tree, melting into the shadows to avoid detection. She waited, holding her breath, until their words became distinct.

"Hey, did you hear what happened to His Majesty?" a male voice rumbled.

"Yeah, they say a demon really did a number on him," another deeper voice replied.

"You think it's the..." the first voice trailed off, a hint of dread in his tone.

"Definitely," the second voice chuckled darkly. "Ever since a thousand years ago, that demon's been a plague on our race and land." There was a raw edge of annoyance in his words.

"We need to be more careful," the first voice cautioned.

"Right. This time, if that thing attacks, we fight back," the second voice declared with grim resolve.

Hidden behind the tree, Catherine listened intently, unseen. She waited for their voices to fade as they passed.

"That sick bitch fox woman," one of them muttered loudly, the words laced with venom.

Catherine stiffened, her ears pricking up at the unexpected slur. She remained perfectly still, concealed by the tree, her senses on high alert.

"You ever wonder what a fox tastes like?" the same voice mused, a disturbing amusement in his tone.

"I bet it's something rare, not like the usual forest critters," his companion replied, a similar dark humor in his voice.

A wave of disgust washed over Catherine as she remained frozen in her uncomfortable position. When the sound of their voices finally died away, she cautiously peered around the edge of the tree. Seeing no one, she slowly stepped out.

"Woah."

Catherine whirled around, instinctively backing away from the source of the exclamation. Leaning casually against a tree across the path were the two men she'd overheard – wolfish in appearance, with fair complexions. They watched her with a mixture of surprise and amusement, clearly having spotted her emerging from her hiding place.

"Told you someone was there," one of them said, a playful smirk on his face.

Catherine frowned, her gaze fixed on them. Without a word, she turned sharply and began to walk away, choosing to avoid any confrontation.

"Hey, wait up," the first wolf-man called out, pushing off the tree and crossing the path. The other followed close behind. Catherine ignored them, quickening her pace.

"Are you lost?" the second wolf-man asked, a disarming smile on his face.

Catherine offered no response, her steps growing even faster.

"Hey, it's not—" The first wolf-man reached her, his hand closing around her arm.

Catherine spun around, a sharp, guttural hiss erupting from her throat. Her eyes flashed with a piercing yellow light, her annoyance, tinged with anxiety, radiating off her in waves.

The smiles vanished from the wolf-men's faces. They recoiled slightly, their expressions shifting to a strange mix of surprise and distaste. They exchanged a silent glance, a flicker of unspoken communication passing between them.

Catherine cut off her hiss, the unnatural yellow fading from her eyes. Without a word, she turned and walked away, her pace now bordering on a run.

"Dude..." one of the wolf-men murmured, staring after her retreating figure.

"No shit..." the other replied, equally bewildered.

Catherine continued her walk, her thoughts preoccupied, and didn't immediately register the growing hum of activity around her. As she looked up, she realized she had stumbled into a bustling local market and a collection of small stores. Wolfmen and wolfwomen milled about, engaged in their daily routines. Some chatted animatedly, others browsed the stalls, while still others simply passed by, and a few wolf children chased each other in playful circles. A wave of relief washed over Catherine at the sight of other people, but a nagging worry quickly followed.

Those guys earlier... they definitely smelled something different about me. "Well," she murmured to herself, her steps slowing as she pondered, "if I have to stick around here for a bit, I need to do something about that."

A thought sparked in her mind, and she stopped walking abruptly. "What do wolves..." she began, then paused, a slightly awkward expression crossing her face. "...smell like?" she mused, before continuing her stroll, her mind now actively searching for a solution, a plan beginning to form.

"And that's the bloody lot," Lucas slurred, his voice thick with drink.

"All those damn years, how could he keep that a secret? Felt like I was fucking pushed right to the edge of a cliff," he continued, his words lazy and sodden with alcohol.

"I hear you, sir. Some people you've known your whole life will still keep secrets from you," Elliot agreed, offering Lucas another drink, another glass of potent liquor.

"Bugger them all. Hope their dinner's nothing but rotten meat every day," Lucas muttered dramatically, downing the drink Elliot offered in one go. He slammed the empty glass down, already beginning to slump from the effects of the alcohol.

As he lowered the glass, a peculiar scent drifted into his awareness. An intoxicating aroma, a blend of musk and flowers, caught his attention despite his inebriated state. Not only that, but it felt strangely familiar, a scent he somehow recognized. A flicker of alertness cut through the haze of drunkenness. Lucas turned, his gaze sweeping over his surroundings, his ears and nose suddenly keen as he tried to pinpoint the source of the intriguing smell amongst the other patrons and the pub's general aroma.

"Is something the matter, sir?" Elliot asked, noticing Lucas's sudden shift.

"Think I fucking losed it, Elliot " Lucas chuckled, his eyes still glazed with drink.

"Don't I know it," Elliot quipped playfully, gesturing towards the array of empty bottles Lucas had already emptied.

"Nah, nah..." Lucas mumbled, his movements clumsy and his words slurred. "I smell her..." The unintended revelation slipped out, a consequence of his drunken state.

Elliot paused, a flicker of intrigue in his eyes. "A woman of yours, sir?" he inquired.

"I... I have to go," Lucas declared, abruptly abandoning his plans for further drinking. He lurched towards the door.

"Sir, your payment—" Elliot began, but Lucas had already bolted.

"Damn. Well, as usual..." Elliot muttered, shaking his head. "Must be nice to be royalty."

Stepping out into the night air, Lucas immediately noticed the scent intensified. He scanned his surroundings, trying to isolate its origin, to track it down. The throng of people passing by made it difficult, a cacophony of competing smells assaulting his senses. However, focusing his heightened sense of smell, Lucas managed to lock onto the specific aroma. He turned sharply and took off running to his left. The sudden urgency seemed to burn away some of the alcohol's fog, his movements becoming more controlled, his demeanor shifting back to his usual sharp self. His gaze darted around, searching for anyone carrying that distinctive, intoxicating scent. It wasn't a scent he particularly liked; in fact, he disliked it intensely. Yet, he was undeniably drawn to it, an instinctual familiarity tugging at him. Only one person he knew carried that particular aroma.

Amara slammed against the rough bark of a tall tree, a sharp cry escaping her lips at the sudden, brutal impact. Despite the jarring collision, she wasted no time scrambling to her feet.

"I must say, it's rather surprising to find someone... different out here. Though, considering I've been away for what feels like millennia, perhaps it shouldn't be," a male voice mused. Its tone was gentle, almost melodic, a deceptive sweetness that belied any true warmth.

Amara hissed, a sharp, bat-like screech tearing through the air, her eyes burning into the figure before her. Without a moment's hesitation, she lunged, leaping forward, claws extended and sharpened, her body coiled tight for the attack. The man easily sidestepped her first strike, then her second. Amara pressed her assault, a flurry of swipes, but each was met with an effortless dodge. Then, with a swift, brutal movement, the man's fist shot out, connecting with Amara's cheek. The force of the blow sent her flying sideways, crashing heavily onto the ground.

"Please," the man began, his voice retaining its gentle quality. "I truly can't bring myself to fight a woman. Surely we can settle this in a manner more befitting our... age, wouldn't you agree?" His tone was polite, almost solicitous.

Amara lay on the ground, struggling to rise, her jaw and cheek throbbing with a searing pain. The man's punch had landed with surprising force, making her fear a fracture. A trickle of green blood dripped from her bat-like nose. Frustration surged through her. She pushed herself to her feet, facing the man with renewed ferocity, her stance coiled for another attack.

"You won't get away with this," Amara snarled, her voice a low, animalistic threat, her face contorted in a warning hiss.

The man offered only a mocking sigh and a gentle smile, remaining silent for a long moment.

What does this man want?

I've been fighting this demon for a goddamn age, why won't he just die already? Annoyance simmered within Amara as the memory of their first encounter flashed through her mind.

I was heading away from the source of that sound. I still don't know what it was, but I need to figure it out quickly, or things could get much worse. Not only that, as queen of my kingdom, I have a duty to my people. Whatever's out there is undoubtedly a threat. We've faced unwelcome visitors and disasters before, three times in as many centuries, but we've always survived. I'm sure this won't be any different, as long as I deal with it swiftly.

I continued walking, my gaze sweeping over the unfamiliar green trees, bushes, and ground, suspicion coloring my every step. Then, I stopped. No, my body just... stopped moving. My eyes widened as a sudden chill ran through me, my ears flattened in alertness. I didn't dare lower my guard for a moment. A thick bank of fog was rolling in from the distance, a dense, suffocating cloud that slowly began to envelop my surroundings. I was unfamiliar with this kind of temperature, but I'd heard that fog and smoke like this were never a good sign. An urgent instinct screamed at me to run, to escape. But my body remained stubbornly still.

"Run."

No, I shouldn't. The thought felt foolish, cowardly. No queen should flee from a challenge, from a problem. For my people, I had to stand my ground. I remained motionless for what felt like an eternity, the fog growing thicker with each passing minute, though it seemed to be slowly dissipating as well. I waited, anticipating something, someone. My gaze never wavered, and I shifted my weight, ready to strike at whoever emerged from that disgusting, smoky haze. Then, as I stood unmoving, I was suddenly slammed backward by an unseen force, a powerful gust of wind that sent me hurtling through the air. The impact was brutal, like being struck by a massive rock. Pain shot through me.

"Oh my..." A male voice spoke, loud yet oddly gentle. "My apologies, I mistook you for one of those pathetic little creatures of my own kind..."

As soon as I heard the voice, I slowly looked up to see who it was. A slender figure of a man stood there, his skin as pale as a flower or some exotic fruit I'd never encountered. He wore a long, grey robe. As I looked at him more clearly, Azur's words echoed in my mind: "He looked like you." No, no, no, how could a demon look like me? But as I studied the male... I don't know why, but how could a being... look... what was the word again?... Beautiful... Yes... What was he...? I stopped, realizing that while his features weren't exactly like ours, not even close to mine, there was a resemblance, a faint echo...

"Who are you?" the male voice asked gently. "Again, my sincerest apologies. Please, allow me to accompany you on your way as a way to compensate for my clumsy mistake." He extended a hand, his face open and smiling, a seemingly trustworthy expression. But...

I scrambled to my feet, wasting no more time on contemplation. Without a second thought, I lashed out, my claws extended. The sudden attack caught the man by surprise; my claws raked across his face, drawing blood. I immediately sprang back. The man lowered his head, but he didn't retreat. He simply stood still, slowly raising a hand to his injured cheek.

He slowly lifted his head, looking at me with a disconcerting smile in his strangely gentle eyes – eyes that held the vulnerability of a small prey animal. His hand covered the long, evident scratch I had inflicted.

"Now we're even," the male voice said softly.

I didn't let him finish. I attacked again, claws bared, but he easily dodged. He wasn't retaliating, merely evading my strikes as I continued my relentless assault, searching for any opening. Impatience began to gnaw at me. I changed my tactic, attempting to grab him, to sink my claws deep. But he was too quick. He caught my wrist, then with a powerful swing, sent me flying in the opposite direction, landing hard in a thicket of green bushes.

Ignoring the pain, I was on my feet in an instant, lunging again, the fight continuing.

Back in the present, the memories faded.

I have to kill him as soon as possible, or else... Amara's thoughts raced, a knot of tense stress tightening in her chest as she pictured her people in the palace, their safety hanging in the balance. The thought fueled her resolve. She took a deep, steadying breath, then another. Her eyes fluttered open, and she launched herself forward again, ready to strike. But in a sudden, disorienting flash, the man vanished from her sight. The next moment, Amara's vision swam, her body growing weak. Darkness crept in, her senses fading rapidly as she crumpled to the ground.

"It's no fun at all to fight a woman; I might just lose quickly..." the male voice purred, a sinister amusement lacing his tone as he gazed down at Amara's unconscious form, a cruel smile playing on his lips. He turned, lifting his face to the sky, inhaling deeply, his eyes closed. When he opened them again, a sinister smirk stretched across his features.

"It's good to be back."

Catherine ducked into a narrow alleyway, seeking refuge behind a stack of overflowing dumpsters. Her mind raced, desperately searching for a way to mask her distinctive fox scent with something more... wolf-like. But the how eluded her.

My grandma always said wolves and dogs might share some distant blood, but they sure as hell don't smell the same.

"So, how...?"

Catherine sighed, frustration bubbling up. With no immediate solution, she slumped down beside the dumpsters, resting her cheek in her hands, utterly clueless about her next move.

It'd be so easy if I could just change my scent, but I don't exactly have that kind of magic at my fingertips.

Or if a random stray dog would magically appear, I could just rub its scent all over me. That would do the trick.

Now that I'm actually out here... why did I even leave in the first place?

Especially when I don't know a soul. Well, I know the Emperor, Wilbert, and his absolute ass of a brother...

Did I really make the—

Catherine cut off her internal monologue as a new scent drifted into her awareness. Someone was nearby. She stood up quickly, her senses on high alert, trying to pinpoint the source of the strong aroma. She paused, silent, still, carefully analyzing the air. Her ears twitched, straining to catch any sound that might accompany the scent.

"Haven't seen anyone yet, but I definitely smell someone," she muttered under her breath, her gaze sweeping over her surroundings with even greater intensity.

Deciding to move, Catherine crossed to the opposite side of the alleyway, noticing that the scent seemed to be strongest in that direction. She crept towards the alley's mouth, hesitant to step out fully. While she still desperately needed to mask her own scent, the persistent presence of this other, stronger one made her uneasy. Cautiously, Catherine peered around the corner, observing the passersby, trying to identify the source of the intriguing smell. The street was its usual noisy self, people hurrying about their business. Minute after minute ticked by as Catherine scanned the crowd, but no one seemed particularly suspicious.

"What you looking at?"

Catherine jumped, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. She whirled around to find herself face-to-face with a familiar, if unwelcome, figure. Her annoyance flared as she recognized him. Lucas. She wasn't intimidated by him anymore, just wary, her guard subtly raised in case he had any hidden motives.

"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise? That distinctive fox scent always makes an impression," Lucas drawled, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. His earlier drunkenness seemed to have completely vanished, replaced by his usual composed and casual demeanor. "Did you run off on my pathetic brother?" he asked, a hint of passive aggression coloring his tone.

Catherine studied him, noticing a faint air of sloppiness in his mannerisms and speech, but she couldn't be entirely sure, given how easily Lucas could mask his true state. She remained silent for a moment, then turned her back on him, intending to ignore him completely.

"Where are you off to?" Lucas called after her. "You know, the moment you step out there, people will know exactly what you are..." His words were soft, more of a warning than a threat. "Not exactly the smartest move, is it?" he added with a sly smirk.

Catherine hesitated, his words hitting their mark. She was indeed without options.

"I have to go somewhere. I can't go back to your brother," she said sharply, her voice tight.

Lucas paused, tilting his head, a look of amusement and intrigue flickering across his face. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Oh, and why is that? Lover's quarrel, I suppose? Well, that sucks for him," he muttered flatly.

"Lover's what?" Catherine repeated, her annoyance escalating. "No, no, no, we're not—" she sputtered, a disgusted tone creeping into her voice.

"I get it, I get it. Sometimes those new feelings can be a bit... icky," Lucas joked playfully.

"Shut up," Catherine muttered, her irritation growing. "Look, if I can't go anywhere, then I'll just..." she trailed off awkwardly.

"Just what?" Lucas prompted with a teasing grin.

Catherine shot him an annoyed look, then brushed past him, determined to ignore him.

Lucas paused, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he turned to watch her walk away, his arms crossing as he observed her with amusement.

Catherine continued to walk quickly, not looking where she was going. She rounded another corner into a different alleyway and promptly bumped into someone. "Sorry—" she began, offering a quick apology as she looked up at the figure she had collided with.

Her eyes widened slightly. The figure was tall, clad in long grey robes, the face obscured by a deep hood. The figure stood motionless, then slowly, deliberately, turned its head to look at Catherine without uttering a single word. Catherine, equally silent, simply stared back, a sudden, unwelcome feeling washing over her. An instinctive sense of unease prickled her skin as she observed the cloaked figure.

"Hey, honey... There you are."

Catherine glanced over her shoulder at the sound of the voice. Lucas was approaching in the distance, a charming smile plastered on his face, his eyes glinting with an annoying intensity.

"Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you," Lucas said as he reached her, smoothly taking Catherine's hand. She was too surprised to react, a bewildered look on her face at his sudden action. Lucas winked at her, a silent communication passing between them.

"Sorry about my wife, she's new to this town. She can be a bit clumsy and bump into anyone without noticing," 

Lucas offered as a playful cover-up. He turned, pulling Catherine along with him, his charming smile vanishing the instant his back was turned. Catherine glanced at Lucas's now-serious expression, then looked back to where the cloaked figure had been. To her surprise, it was gone. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she looked back at Lucas.

"Hey, the—" Catherine started.

"Ignore it. We'll talk later," Lucas said curtly, his grip on her hand firm as they continued walking.

Catherine fell silent, her curiosity burning, but seeing the uncharacteristic seriousness on Lucas's face, she decided to let it go for now. She glanced back one more time, then focused on the path ahead as they walked out of the alley.

"I can't—" Catherine muttered, noticing they were now out on the main street.

"Don't worry, they didn't even see you," Lucas replied, his voice assured.

"What?" Catherine asked, confused.

"It's one of my tricks, idiot," Lucas joked, a hint of his usual playful demeanor returning.

"Father's been calling for you. Where the hell have you been all this time?" Young Lucas demanded, his voice sharp.

A boy lost in silent contemplation stood gazing at the trees, his expression unreadable. He seemed oblivious to Lucas's presence behind him.

Lucas paused, then sighed in exasperation. He picked up a small rock and tossed it, hitting his brother squarely in the back to finally get his attention. The boy turned slowly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features at the unexpected projectile.

"I already know why Father's calling me," the boy acknowledged, his tone flat.

"Cool," Lucas said mockingly. "And you need to go see him, or I'll get my ass kicked again," he added with a pointed look.

"He wants me to be the Captain General when I'm older," the boy revealed, stating it as a simple fact.

"So? Isn't that awesome?" Lucas exclaimed, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "You'll be the best at it, fighting right alongside Father..."

The boy looked at Lucas, then turned away, walking over to sit down at the base of a tree, facing his brother. He leaned back against the trunk, crossing his arms. "I don't want any of those royal official roles. I have a different path in mind," he shared sincerely.

Lucas stared at him, intrigued yet conflicted. He approached and sat down beside his brother, turning to face him. "Pray tell," Lucas prompted.

"I want to understand our nature," the younger boy began, his voice earnest. "I want to learn more about what we can do. I want to take action, to learn from the complexities..."

He paused, a hint of excitement entering his voice. "I want to know if we can discover and create something that we can truly call our own." A faint smile touched his lips as he spoke of his aspirations.

Lucas watched him, his eyebrows raised as his brother spoke with such passion. He fell silent for a moment, considering the unexpected revelation.

"It's the coolest thing, brother," the boy said, turning to Lucas, his eyes bright with interest and enthusiasm. "If you like, you can join me..."

"Where is he?" Lucas demanded, his voice raw with pain and urgency. His injuries were stark and severe, his body barely obeying his will, yet he fought to move.

He was trying to push his way into one of the makeshift medical cabins, where medics and wolf guards were tending to the badly wounded and unconscious survivors of the recent devastation.

"Your Royal Highness, please, you need to stay back," one of the wolf guards insisted, trying to guide him away.

The once magnificent forest surrounding the palace was now scarred by fire, a grim testament to the attack of a colossal fox beast. Driven by instinct rather than malice, the creature had rampaged through their land, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Wolf people, from commoners to royalty unprepared for such a monstrous assault, fled the inferno, clutching their belongings and loved ones. Lower-ranking guards worked tirelessly to usher them to safety. The air was thick with the cries of those escaping, a symphony of chaos.

"Tell me where he is!" Lucas repeated, his voice laced with anger and desperation, ignoring the blood seeping from wounds on his arms and legs. He fought to maintain a semblance of composure.

"Sir, please. His Majesty requested your presence with the other evacuees... We'll handle things here," a wolf guard reported, trying to redirect him.

Lucas stopped, momentarily still. But his stubborn nature wouldn't allow it. He surged forward, shoving past the guards who tried to restrain him, a frustrated glare silencing their protests. Inside the crowded cabin, he spotted Jasper in the distance, sitting propped up on a cot amidst the injured. He hurried towards him. Jasper's hands were swathed in thick bandages, his eyes hidden beneath layers of gauze, and his right leg was similarly bound.

"Where is he?" Lucas asked urgently as he reached Jasper's side.

Jasper remained silent, his gaze unfocused. He let out a heavy, silent sigh, a shadow of pain crossing his features as a memory flickered in his mind.

"I don't know... He... he left," Jasper finally said, his voice rough and strained.

"He left with the woman?" Lucas asked quickly, his voice sharp with a sudden realization.

"When the beast emerged from our side, we both engaged it... attacked. And after that..." Jasper's voice trailed off, his eyes squeezing shut in a mixture of stress and anxiety.

"After that, I didn't see him anymore," Jasper finished after a long, heavy silence. His tone was flat, devoid of emotion.

Lucas stood frozen, unable to speak or move, staring at Jasper in disbelief. A choked chuckle escaped him, a sound of utter denial as he slowly shook his head.

"No..." Lucas began, his voice rising with frustration. "I refuse to believe he was killed that easily!"

"So that woman was also..." Lucas murmured, the realization dawning on him, a mixture of disbelief and a strange confirmation in his tone.

Jasper remained silent, his gaze drifting away, his body still and unmoving on the cot.

"Does Father know?" Lucas asked, the question heavy in the air.

"He will know now," Jasper confirmed, his voice grim. The already somber atmosphere in the cabin seemed to deepen, a heavy silence settling between the two brothers, each grappling with their grief in their own way.