Chapter 65: Realization

Words : 2212 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

Chapter 65: Realization Zane~ This had to be a dream—a vivid, almost too-real dream. Because if it wasn’t, then how the hell was I supposed to explain the impossible unfolding right in front of me? The Moon Diamond in Sebastian’s hand flared so brightly that I had to squint. The deep crimson glow painted the entire hall in eerie red light, sending murmurs and gasps through the crowd. Sebastian, standing beside me, let out a low chuckle, his gaze locked on the massive white wolf at the front of the stage. "Told you the stone was authentic," he said smugly. "You really should start believing me more, Zane." I barely heard him. My attention was fixed on the wolf. Its silver fur shimmered like woven moonlight, and its sheer size dwarfed even the largest Alphas I had seen. It was majestic, otherworldly—powerful. Sebastian turned his head slightly toward me, though his eyes never left the wolf. "You know what this means, right?" His voice held an edge of excitement, but also something else—something wary. I exhaled sharply. "That this... thing is the bodyguard we’ve been looking for?" Sebastian nodded, his expression excited. "Which means..." I clenched my jaw. "Which means Amelia Louis might actually be the Celestial Princess." The words felt wrong coming out of my mouth. I glanced at Amelia, who was standing frozen on the stage. Her face had gone pale, her fingers gripping the fabric of her white dress so tightly her knuckles began turning white. The wolf moved. Slow, deliberate steps carried it to the front of the stage, its piercing silver eyes sweeping across the room. The crowd trembled under its gaze—some backing away, others too mesmerized to move. Whispers rippled through the air. "Mist..." someone muttered. "This has to be the wolf spirit," another voice guessed in a hushed tone. "The father of all werewolves." Mist. Something about that name gnawed at the edges of my memory, like a shadow slipping through my grasp. Where had I heard it before? Then, as if deciding it had seen enough of the crowd, the wolf turned its attention to Amelia. She stumbled back. I arched a brow. "For someone who’s supposedly the Celestial Princess, she doesn’t seem too thrilled to see her own bodyguard." Sebastian hummed in agreement. "I was just thinking the same thing." The air thickened. The room seemed to vibrate as the wolf took another step forward. Then, without warning—fog. Thick, dense mist exploded outward, swallowing the ballroom in an instant. I could barely see my own hand in front of me. Gasps and startled cries echoed around me. And then—light. Not from the chandeliers, which were still dark. No, this light came from within the fog itself, illuminating the space like a phantom sunrise. A silhouette began to form. Tall. Ethereal. Floating. As the mist cleared slightly, my breath hitched. The figure hovering before us wasn’t just any man. He radiated an unnatural beauty, something not meant for this world. His features were impossibly sharp, his cheekbones were definitely sculpted by gods themselves. His hair had lengthened, flowing down his back in waves of deep silver with strands of white that shimmered like stardust. His eyes, glowed with an intense, molten gold. And surrounding him was the fog, swirling around his form as if it were alive. I didn’t recognize him at first. But then— My eyes widened. Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath beside me. "Is that...?" I started, my voice a simple whisper. Sebastian finished for me. "Jacob." Jacob’s golden eyes flickered toward Amelia. His voice, when he spoke, was richer, deeper—ancient. "Are you the Celestial Princess?" The room held its breath. Amelia trembled. "I-I..." She stammered, looking around as if searching for an escape. Jacob tilted his head, amusement glinting in his godlike gaze. He let out a soft chuckle. "If you’re going to make such a big claim," he mused, "you should be sure." Then his expression shifted. Darkened. The fog coiled tighter around him, and when he spoke again, his voice carried an eerie resonance, like multiple echoes layered atop one another. "ARE YOU THE CELESTIAL PRINCESS?" The force of his words shook the room. The chandeliers rattled, the ground itself seemed to hum with power. Amelia flinched, eyes darting to the crowd. For a moment, she hesitated. Then, lifting her chin, she forced out the word. "Yes." Jacob studied her. And then—he smirked. "Well then," he murmured. "If that’s true... it shouldn’t hurt if I do this." He lifted his hand. And clenched his fist. Amelia’s scream tore through the room. It was raw, agonizing—then, suddenly, silence. She collapsed. The entire hall stood still. Dead still. Sebastian let out a low whistle. "Well, that escalated quickly." I exhaled slowly, staring at the lifeless body on the stage. Then, my gaze flicked back to Jacob. He met my eyes. And smirked. The smirk sent an unsettling shiver down my spine. His golden eyes burned with something ancient, something powerful—something that made even Red, my ever-defiant wolf, go eerily still in my head. Then, the hall erupted. People screamed, chairs scraped against the floor, and gasps echoed off the high ceilings. The scent of fear was thick in the air. Amelia’s crumpled body lay motionless, and panic spread like wildfire. "What the hell just happened?" someone yelled. "She’s dead! He killed her!" a woman shrieked. Guards rushed forward but hesitated when Jacob—no, Mist—turned his gaze toward them. He didn’t move, yet the sheer force of his presence sent them stumbling back like children caught in a storm. Jacob—or Mist, as I now understood—sighed, tilting his head. "I do love a dramatic crowd." His voice still held that eerie resonance, multiple echoes layered together like the whispers of ancient spirits. Then, he spoke again, this time loud enough for the entire room to hear. "My name is Mist, the Wolf Spirit—the Father of Wolves." Silence fell. Then came the murmurs. Hushed, reverent. "I knew he was the Wolf Spirit?" "We are witnessing a legend!" "This is impossible! The gods are walking among us!" I clenched my jaw as whispers swirled through the air like restless ghosts. This wasn’t just chaos—this was history unfolding. Mist’s glowing gaze swept over the room. "Let me make one thing clear—Amelia Louis is not my sister. She is not the Celestial Princess." Gasps rippled through the crowd. Mist continued, his voice carrying the weight of divine authority. "The true Celestial Princess will soon be revealed to you all. But until then, anyone who dares to make false claims as Amelia did... will meet the same fate." His words settled like a thick fog, suffocating any lingering doubts. Then, Mist did something that made my breath catch. He moved. Not walked—floated. The mist coiled around him, carrying him effortlessly through the crowd. People parted, stepping back as if afraid to touch him. I watched, heart pounding, as he drifted closer. And then—he stopped. Right in front of me. The room stilled. The air grew impossibly heavy. All eyes turned to us. I could hear my own heartbeat slamming against my ribs. Mist’s golden gaze locked onto mine. Before I could process what was happening, the fog surged forward—swallowing me whole. ********’ The moment I opened my eyes, I knew I was somewhere else. Gone were the grand chandeliers, the panicked murmurs, the scent of fear. Instead, I stood in the middle of a clearing, bathed in silver moonlight. Trees surrounded me, their dark silhouettes stretching toward the sky. The air was crisp, thick with the scent of wildlife and earth. "What the—" My voice died in my throat. Jacob stood before me, looking completely normal—no glowing eyes, no ethereal fog, just his usual, annoyingly smug self. My fists clenched. "What the hell just happened?" Jacob smiled. "You finally look awake, Faceless Prince." I growled, but before I could respond, Red—my wolf, my untamed beast—winced inside me. Winced. Red never submitted to anyone. Not to any being. Not even to my father. And yet, he was bowing in my mind. I swallowed hard. "How?" My voice was hoarse. "How the hell are you Mist? The Wolf Spirit?" Jacob’s laughter echoed through the clearing, the sound light and teasing, like he was savoring my confusion. I hated it. "I thought you were smart, Faceless Prince," he taunted, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief, reflecting the glow of moonlight above. Then—like a switch flipping—realization slammed into me. My breath hitched. Jacob smirked. "Haven’t you figured it out yet?" He took a step closer, his presence suddenly heavier, as if the very air shifted around him. Red stirred uneasily inside me, his hackles raised. "Listen," he whispered, his voice laced with an emotion I couldn’t place. "Be careful, this man scares me." Suddenly the pieces fit together too perfectly, too painfully. Jacob and his brothers had been calling someone "Mother" for months. So, they weren’t talking about just any mother. They were referring to Moon Goddess! And earlier—when Jacob was with Natalie—he kept saying she was transforming. No. No, no, no. I took a shaky step back. "You’re not saying..." My voice cracked. "You’re not saying that Natalie—" Jacob’s smirk widened. Then he leaned in, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "Natalie. She’s my one and only sister, the Celestial Princess—the Second Moon, and the one destined to restore balance." I stumbled back further, my stomach twisting. "You’re telling me... that Natalie is the Celestial Princess?" Everything inside me froze. My knees nearly buckled. Natalie. The Celestial Princess. The second Moon. Jacob’s sister. The world tilted, and before I could catch myself, I stumbled backward, my boots skidding against the soft earth. Then—because fate had a twisted sense of humor—I landed flat on my ass. Jacob snorted. "Well, that was graceful." I barely heard him. My heart pounded in my ears, my mind racing. Natalie? My Natalie? The woman who had been tossed aside by fate, who had been broken and betrayed by everyone who should have protected her... was a celestial being? It didn’t make sense. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. "You’re joking." My voice came out hoarse, like I had swallowed glass. "You have to be joking." Jacob just grinned. "Oh, Zane. You really think I’d go through all this trouble just to mess with you?" He tsked, shaking his head. "In four hours, Natalie will wake up... and she’ll be different." A chill ran down my spine. "Different how?" Jacob’s expression softened. "Her memories will come back," he said. "All of them. She’ll remember who she really is. She’ll have powers beyond anything you’ve ever seen. And the first thing she’ll do—" He paused, dragging out the silence like some theatrical villain. I gritted my teeth. "Jacob." He smirked. "The first thing she’ll do is search for him." A strange, sick feeling settled in my gut. "Who?" Jacob tilted his head. "Frederick Moor." I blinked. "What?" "The first Lycan King," Jacob clarified, watching me carefully. My stomach twisted. "That’s impossible. Frederick Moor has been dead for centuries." Jacob chuckled, the sound rich with amusement. "You’d think so, wouldn’t you?" He gave me a slow, knowing look. "But just like Natalie, he reincarnates in every lifetime. No matter where she is, no matter who she is, she always finds her way back to him." My blood turned to ice. Natalie was going to leave me to find another man. My chest tightened. My jaw clenched. No. No, no, no. Natalie was mine. She had to be mine. I shot to my feet, my pulse roaring in my ears. "No." My voice came out sharp, final. "I’m not going to let that happen." Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" I took a step forward, my body thrumming with determination. "She’s not leaving me. I’ll stop her—I don’t care what it takes." Jacob let out a low whistle. "Damn. That’s a lot of possessiveness for someone as dense as you." I ignored him. "You may not know this but Natalie and I have a spiritual bond. And you might not believe me because honestly, it sounds impossible but I found out yesterday that Natalie is my fated mate. I’ll talk to her. I’ll make her understand what we have. I’ll remind her—" My voice cracked, but I forced the words out. "I’ll remind her how much we love each other." I took a step forward, eyes burning into Jacob’s. "I don’t care if he was the first Lycan King. I don’t care if they’re destined since the beginning of earth. She is mine. And I’ll be damned if I let some reincarnated relic take her from me." Jacob laughed, so had that it made me feel more angrier than I was. "You really don’t get it, do you?" He said. I clenched my jaw. "Get what?" Jacob leaned in, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "You are Frederick Moor, dumbass." Silence settled between us. A heavy, suffocating silence. I forgot how to breathe. "What?" My voice came out strangled. Jacob smirked. "Yeah. You are her fated mate. You are the first Lycan King." He clapped me on the shoulder. "Congrats. You’ve been in love with the same woman for centuries."

Chapter 65: Realization

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