Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 81

Adelaide

The celebration officially began with traditional werewolf music and ancient dances around the bonfire. Lycanthar led me away from the crowd's center to a quieter corner.

"Why?" I finally found my voice. "Why announce this so suddenly? We haven't even..."

"Because I've recovered all my memories," Lycanthar said softly, his hand gently touching my cheek. "During those days when I lost my mind, it was you who sat by me night after night, telling me stories, stroking my fur. You don't know what that meant to a soul trapped in a beast's body."

I stared at him in amazement. "You... remember those times?"

"Every night, every story, every moment you fell asleep curled against me for warmth," Lycanthar's voice trembled with emotion. "I remember when you cried, when you laughed. Adelaide, even in my darkest moments, my soul recognized you."

I could no longer control my emotions, throwing myself into Lycanthar's embrace as tears soaked his chest. He held me tightly, as if I were the most precious treasure in the world.

"My King, my Moon Bride," a familiar voice interrupted us. I looked up to see the werewolf mother I had saved in the oak grove, holding her child. "Please forgive my intrusion, but I must express my gratitude. Without you, my child and I would have perished."

"Faelina," I said in surprise, wiping away my tears. "How is your wound?"

"Healed, thanks to your salve," Faelina smiled, hesitating before producing an intricate wooden carving from her cloak. "My husband carved this for you—our family's protection charm."

I accepted the small carving, discovering it depicted an elegant wolf with a tiny human girl sitting on its back. The symbolism warmed my heart.

After Faelina left, more werewolves approached. A young warrior showed me his completely healed arm; twin sisters brought me a crown woven from forest flowers; an elderly werewolf with trembling hands placed an ancient silver amulet in my palm, saying it had been passed down through seven generations of his family.

I was overwhelmed by this sudden outpouring of kindness and acceptance. Looking at Lycanthar, I saw pride and love shining in his eyes as he watched me.

"Do you see?" Lycanthar said quietly. "You've won their hearts, just as you won mine."

From the bonfire, a group of young werewolves waved me over, inviting me to join their dance. Lycanthar nodded encouragingly.

"Go ahead. Tonight belongs to you."

I was swept into the celebration, my initial awkwardness quickly melted away by their warmth. A werewolf girl took my hands, teaching me the ancient steps. Though clumsy, I tried my best to follow, earning friendly laughter and applause.

When Lycanthar finally joined the dance, taking my hand, the werewolves automatically formed a circle around us, performing a traditional bonding dance. I felt his arm encircle my waist, lifting me gently as we spun together.

In this moment, it seemed all hatred and prejudice melted away in the moonlight, leaving only hope growing amid the songs and laughter.

The morning sun filtered through the gaps in the council tent's canvas, casting patches of golden light across the central square of Greywolf Pack. I stood in the heart of the bustling settlement, watching the werewolves make their final preparations for our departure.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and letting the cool dawn breeze wash over my face, trying to memorize the scent of this place—the earthy smell of the forest, the lingering smoke from cooking fires, and something indefinably wild that belonged purely to this pack.

"Having second thoughts about leaving?" Lycanthar's voice came from behind me, carrying a hint of teasing warmth.

I turned to face him, finding the Wolf King already dressed in practical traveling attire, his silver hair braided neatly down his back. In the morning light, he appeared more approachable than usual, the harsh edges of leadership softened by something almost tender.

"A little," I admitted honestly, surprising myself with my candor. "Here, everything feels so... simple. No court intrigue, no facades to maintain."

Lycanthar's golden eyes sharpened with keen interest. "You've lived in a court before?"

My heart nearly stopped. I had let my guard down, almost revealing my true identity in a moment of unguarded reflection. I forced my expression to remain steady, scrambling for a plausible explanation.

"I mean, I've treated nobles at the physicians' guild," I said quickly, hoping my voice didn't betray my panic. "They always seem to wear masks, even when they're dying. Everything is a performance for them."

Lycanthar studied me for a long moment, and I held my breath, wondering if he had seen through my hasty cover. But then he nodded thoughtfully, seeming to accept my explanation without further probing.

"Come," he said, gesturing toward the area near the chief's tent. "The tribal elders want to bid us farewell before we depart."

The pack's elders had already assembled in a formal line before the great tent where we had held council. Elder Orion, who had shown such distrust toward me yesterday, now stepped forward with an expression I could hardly recognize—awkward gratitude mixed with grudging respect.

"Silver leaf and starlight flower blend," the old werewolf explained gruffly, pressing a beautifully crafted pouch into my hands. His weathered fingers trembled slightly. "Good for wound healing. This is... thank you for saving my granddaughter."

I accepted the gift with genuine surprise and warmth. "Thank you, Elder Orion. This will be invaluable."

For the first time since beginning this dangerous mission, I dared to hope that peace between our peoples was not just a dream. Perhaps Adelaide Valendria, the princess who had set out to spy on her enemies, could instead become the bridge that united two worlds torn apart by ancient wounds.

Yet as Lycandor Keep drew closer with each passing mile, I remained blissfully unaware of the storm gathering on the horizon—unaware that my carefully guarded secret was already unraveling in ways that would soon threaten everything I had come to cherish.