Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 147

Draven

The silver chains bit into my wrists, each rune-inscribed link searing my flesh. I'd lost track of how many days I'd been hanging in this cursed cell beneath Lycandor Keep. The black mark on my chest, Morgana's gift, pulsed with malevolent energy, draining my strength while preventing any werewolf transformation.

*Thalia.* Her name whispered constantly in my mind, the only thing I'd thought about these past four years. Bitterness and alcohol had numbed me, leaving me vulnerable to Garrick's trap.

Distant footsteps echoed through the corridors—something that didn't belong to the usual guard rotations. Light and careful, moving through the outer chambers.

"Shh, little ones," a familiar voice whispered. "Stay close to Seraphina."

Seraphina—but who was with her? The footsteps were too light to be adult.

"Scary place," a tiny voice trembled. "Dark magic everywhere."

"I know, Nova," Seraphina replied gently. "But we need to find him. Can you feel him?"

Something in my blood stirred uneasily at the name.

"There," another small voice piped up. "The sad man is there. He hurts like Mama hurts."

Children. Very young children. What was Seraphina doing bringing cubs here?

"Good, Pax," Seraphina said softly. "The guards ahead have red eyes—they're not real wolves anymore."

Brief combat echoed through the corridors—flashes of purple light, healing magic turned to warfare. Then footsteps again, closer.

"This way," Nova said with startling certainty. "The hurt man is crying inside. Like Mama cries when she thinks we're sleeping."

The cell door creaked open. Seraphina entered, dusty purple robes trailing, and behind her—

My world shattered.

Two toddlers, perhaps three years old, with features that stopped my heart. The girl had golden curls and familiar blue eyes—not mine, but eyes I'd gazed into countless times. The boy had darker hair but bore unmistakable resemblance to my childhood portraits.

Their scent destroyed me completely. Pack. Family. *Mine.*

"Papa?" Nova said uncertainly, tiny hand reaching through the bars. "Are you our papa? Mama said papa was brave and strong, but you look hurt."

The word hit like a physical blow. These children—these *babies*—were calling me papa.

"I don't understand," I said hoarsely, but truth crashed over me. The timing. Thalia's departure. Her mysterious illness.

"Draven," Seraphina said gently, examining my restraints. "Meet Nova and Pax. Your children."

*Your children.*

Four years. Four years these children had existed, and I'd known nothing. Four years of Thalia raising them alone while I wallowed in self-pity.

"Thalia was pregnant," I breathed, pieces falling into devastating clarity. "When she left..."

"With twins," Seraphina confirmed quietly, her magic probing the cursed mark. "The pregnancy was killing her slowly. She left to spare you watching her die, and to protect the children from political consequences."

Pax stepped closer, round face set with heartbreaking determination. "We came to save you, Papa. Mama is sick, but she's coming too."

*Mama is sick.* Ice shot through my veins. "Where is she?"

"Coming here," Nova said, concentrating. "But the bad lady knows. The red lady with scary eyes."

Her eyes began glowing with otherworldly light—prophetic gift. Like her mother.

"Morgana knows," I realized with horror. "My capture—it's a trap for Thalia."

Pax suddenly stiffened, nostrils flaring. His canine teeth extended, eyes taking amber gleam. At three years old, showing transformation ability that most werewolf children didn't develop until adolescence.

"Bad smells coming," he announced matter-of-factly. "Six scary people. They smell like dead animals."

Nova placed her tiny palm against my chained wrist. Power exploded between us.

*Blood calling to blood.*

The sensation overwhelmed—not just pack bonds, but something far more profound. These children carried my bloodline mixed with something equally powerful from their mother's line.

Nova gasped, little body going rigid as visions flooded her mind. Pax's transformation completed with stunning speed, revealing impossible strength.

The cursed mark writhed, black veins pulsing as the children's awakened blood battled Morgana's corruption. Not enough to break it, but I felt strength returning.

"The bloodline resonance is weakening the curse," Seraphina breathed.

Through our connection, I sensed another presence approaching through the forest. Weak, flickering, but unmistakably beloved. Thalia.

But the power surge rippled outward—every magical creature within miles would have felt that awakening.

"We need to move," I said urgently, testing bonds that were finally weakening. "Morgana will have sensed that."

Nova's eyes went wide, pupils dilating. "The scary lady is angry. She's sending monsters."

I made the hardest decision of my life. "Seraphina, take them and find Thalia. Don't let her come here—it's a trap."

"No!" Pax said fiercely, moving to stand before me despite barely reaching my knees. "No leaving Papa!"

"We just found you," Nova added, tears starting. "Mama said we might never find you."

The loyalty in their small voices nearly broke my resolve. But I could hear hunters approaching, inhuman sounds echoing above.

"Nova, can you see where Mama is?" I crouched as low as my chains allowed.

She nodded, concentrating. "She is on her way to this place."

"Show Seraphina the way," I commanded gently. "Tell Mama that Papa loves her, and loves you both more than all the stars."

"But Papa—" Pax's chin wobbled.

"I'll find you," I promised, feeling chains beginning to give way. "I swear I'll find you both. But keeping you safe is most important."

Seraphina scooped Nova up, weaving concealment magic. "We'll get word to her. And we'll be back."

"Remember your names," I called softly. "Nova and Pax, children of Draven and Thalia. You are brave, and you are loved."

"Love you too, Papa," Nova whispered.

"Love Papa," Pax added solemnly through tears.

They vanished under invisibility just as the first corrupted guard appeared.

But somehow—clever, stubborn Pax—had slipped from the magic and remained, pressing against the shadowed wall.

The vampire guard entered with predatory smile, but as he reached for me, Pax let out a howl no child so young should make—carrying the authority of ancient bloodlines.

The guard stumbled, stunned. The silver chains finally snapped under the assault of awakened blood and weakening curse.

I caught Pax as I rose, feeling more myself than I had in years. The curse mark still burned, but no longer controlled me.

"Time to go, little wolf," I murmured, carrying him toward the drainage passage.

Behind us, more guards poured in, but we moved through shadows that seemed to part before us. In my arms, my son clung with complete trust.

Four years of believing myself abandoned, when I'd had everything—love, children, a future—and been too blinded by pride to see it.

"Mama?" Pax whispered against my chest.

"We're going to find Mama," I promised. "And this time, nothing will separate our family again."