AUBREY

I jolt awake with a scream tearing from my throat, my heart hammering so violently it feels like it might burst from my chest. The nightmare clings to me like a second skin, more vivid and horrific than any before it. Every detail burns with crystal clarity—the metallic scent of blood thick in the air, the desperate screams of my pack echoing across the coronation grounds, the sickening wet sound of crawls meeting flesh.

But it's my brother's death that destroys me completely. James, lying broken in my thirteen-year-old arms, his neck torn open in jagged wounds that pump crimson onto the trampled wildflowers. His eyes—so bright just moments before during the ceremony—growing dim as life bleeds out of him. The way his hand went limp in mine, how his final breath rattled in his chest like autumn leaves.

I'm gasping, trembling, drenched in sweat that makes my nightgown cling to my skin. The nightmare was so much worse than usual, every wound more detailed, every scream more piercing. I can still taste the copper of blood on my tongue, still feel my brother's weight going slack in my arms.

As my breathing slowly steadies, another memory floods back—Jax's brutal punishment earlier tonight. The way agony exploded through my skull when I dared ask about the missing children. His rage, so disproportionate to my simple question, the torture that felt designed to silence rather than educate.

Why did he hurt me for asking about innocent young wolves?

The question burns in my chest like acid. If Jax wasn't involved in those disappearances, why not just say no? Why respond with such vicious punishment? His extreme reaction doesn't match someone with a clear conscience. It matches someone with something to hide.

What is Jax hiding? Why won't he let me ask questions about dead children?

"Aubrey?" Knox's gentle voice cuts through my spiral of doubt. "Bad dream?"

I turn to find him watching me with concern etched across his features, moonlight catching the worried lines around his green eyes. Something about his expression—so genuinely caring, so free of calculation—breaks open the dam I've been building around these doubts.

"The worst one yet," I whisper, my voice still shaky from the nightmare's grip.

Knox shifts closer, his warmth radiating through the space between us. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Since losing my memory, the only thing I could vividly recall was that blood-soaked coronation day. As I begin describing how my pack was ambushed without warning, the gut-wrenching pain nearly chokes me. My voice breaks as I recount my brother dying, each word scraping against my throat like broken glass.

"The horrifying images keep flashing through my mind," I continue, tears streaming down my cheeks. "His broken body, the fatal wound on his neck, the gashes covering him..."

Suddenly, memory strikes like lightning. The young wolf we saw earlier—its injuries matched my brother's exactly. The same tearing wounds, the same pattern of violence. This realization sends a chill down my spine that has nothing to do with the night air.

Could it be that King Alexander wasn't the true killer?

The thought shatters something fundamental inside me. The truth I've clung to, the foundation of everything I believed about that night, begins to waver like a candle in the wind.

Knox pulls me into his arms without hesitation, his embrace warm and steady as he gently comforts me. His hands stroke my hair with infinite tenderness, and for the first time in weeks, I allow myself to sink into someone else's strength.

"Aubrey," he says carefully, his voice soft against my ear, "did you see the killer's face that night?"

I shake my head, the admission torn from me against my will. Once, I would have been certain it was King Alexander. The memory felt so clear, so undeniable. But now, even that belief is starting to crumble like sand through my fingers.

Knox's arms tighten around me protectively. "I promise you," he says with quiet conviction, "I will uncover the truth. I will bring justice for your pack."

***

The next morning brings crisp autumn air and the sound of young voices echoing across the training grounds. Knox finds me picking at breakfast, still haunted by last night's revelations.

"I have something to ask you," he says, settling beside me with that careful attention he's been showing since my breakdown. "Would you be interested in training the young wolves today?"

The suggestion catches me off guard. "Training them?"

"Escape drills, basic safety protocols," Knox explains, his green eyes serious. "With children disappearing, we need every young wolf prepared to protect themselves."

The opportunity calls to something deep in my soul—the need to protect innocent children, to ensure no more families suffer what mine did. And honestly, I need the distraction from this crisis of faith about Jax that's tearing me apart.

"Yes," I say without hesitation. "I'd like that very much."

Knox's smile could power the entire castle. "Perfect. They're gathering on the training grounds now."

We make our way across the castle grounds, where a group of young wolves has been assembled for safety drills. The moment they spot Knox, their faces light up with unrestrained joy.

"Crown Prince Knox!" A girl who can't be more than twelve launches herself at him with complete confidence that he'll catch her. He does, swinging her around as she giggles with delight.

"Your Highness!" A boy with sandy hair bows with exaggerated formality before breaking into laughter. "Are you here to train with us?"

"Actually," Knox says, setting the girl down gently, "I've brought someone even better. This is Lady Aubrey, and she's going to teach you some very important skills."

The children turn their bright, curious eyes toward me, and something in my chest cracks open. These are the innocents being targeted, the precious lives someone—possibly Jax—is hunting for reasons I can't fathom.

I will keep them safe.

"Alright, young warriors," I say, my voice finding its strength as I step into the role of instructor. "Today we're going to learn how to disappear when danger comes calling. Who wants to learn how to become invisible?"

Every hand shoots up enthusiastically, their excitement infectious despite the serious nature of what we're teaching.