Julian stood in front of a tall, weather-worn building cloaked in age and silence. Cracks lined the stone walls, and wild ivy curled around rusted metal, giving it the look of a ruin left behind after the great war. If not for the parchment clutched tightly in his hand, he would have dismissed it as just another forgotten relic. But the magic guiding him here pulsed with certainty. This was the place.
The thick iron gate creaked open, and two guards emerged—one vampire, one werewolf—standing side by side in a way that would have been unthinkable just years ago.
The vampire's eyes widened in shock. "Sir Julian?!"
Julian didn't waste time. "Take me to Prince Raymond."
The vampire's surprise hardened into caution. "How did you find this place?" His tone grew tense, hand drifting toward the hilt of his blade.
Wordlessly, Julian tossed the parchment forward. The vampire caught it, unrolling it briefly before his expression softened.
"From the Queen," Julian added simply.
The vampire exchanged a glance with his companion, then nodded. "Follow me."
They walked through the heart of the hidden sanctuary—a community that was neither vampire, nor wolf, nor witch, but all three. Children played under the trees. Warriors trained side by side. And in the distance, under the shade of a vine-covered archway, Prince Raymond stood watching quietly.
He didn't turn as they approached.
"If you want children so badly," Julian said, his voice gruff, "why don't you have your own and stop watching someone else's?"
Raymond's head snapped around, surprise quickly shifting into a guarded look. "How did you get in here?"
"He has the Queen's parchment," the vampire guard answered.
Raymond blinked, brows arching. "Mother gave you her parchment?" He waved the guards away. "Leave us."
The moment they were alone, Julian took a deep breath. "Prince Raymond—"
"'Prince,'" Raymond cut in, a dry smirk curling his lips. "That's new."
Julian's jaw tensed. "I need to find Natalie. Please."
Raymond studied him silently for a long moment, his gaze sharp and unreadable. "You still remember her name after three years?" he asked coolly. "I'm impressed. I figured you'd have forgotten it by now—after all, you were very determined when you left her bleeding on the forest floor."
Julian winced, pain flickering across his features. "I was a fool. A coward. I know that now."
Raymond said nothing, his eyes drifting back toward the group of children where his mate sat in the grass, weaving flower crowns with her tiny hands. His expression softened for a moment—then hardened again as footsteps approached.
A young woman with raven-black hair that reached her waist and eyes like the deep ocean walked up with a graceful bow.
"Your Highness," she said gently. "We are ready to depart to the Gozzand clan."
Raymond glanced at Julian. "Take him with you."
The witch looked at Julian with quiet curiosity but gave a small nod.
As Julian turned to follow her, Raymond spoke again, his gaze never leaving his mate. "Hope you aren't too late this time, Julian."
Julian's throat tightened as he followed the witch, the weight of regret but pushing against his every step.
He had left once.
He wouldn't fail again.
"How long does it take to get there?" Julian asked, falling into step beside the witch as they passed through the winding forest path beyond the gates.
The witch didn't look at him immediately. Her deep blue eyes remained forward, her long black hair swaying behind her like a curtain of silk. Finally, she spoke in a calm, even voice, "Prince Raymond has strictly forbidden the use of spells for transport—at least within the outer borders. He doesn't want to risk attracting the attention of the high witches, especially Selene."
Her tone hinted at irritation, not directed at him, but at the burden of restraint. "If we were free to cast, we'd be there in a matter of seconds—maybe two."
Julian exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "So we're walking."
"For the next three to four hours, yes," she said, finally giving him a sidelong glance.
"Great," he muttered under his breath, frustration leaking through.
The witch arched a brow, her lips twitching as though she might smirk, but she said nothing. She had clearly heard him but chose silent.She had heard about him and the werewolf Natalie. Perhaps it wasn't her place to say what she was thinking. Natalie had waited for him for three years. That a few hours of walking was nothing compared to the pain of being abandoned.
The path narrowed, and the trees thickened, their shadows stretching long over the trail like arms trying to pull something back. Julian glanced down at the parchment he still held in his hand, now folded and slightly worn. The very thing that had led him here was now tucked like guilt into his coat.
He picked up his pace slightly.
He couldn't walk fast enough.