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Hailee’s POV

We stepped quietly into the room. The air slled faintly of herbs and dicine. The curtains were drawn halfway, letting in a soft, golden afternoon light that fell across the large bed in the center. Then my heart squeezed when I saw him. My father, once the strongest man I knew, the king whose voice could make warriors tremble, now looked so small, so fragile. He was pale and thin, his skin almost blending with the white sheets. His once-broad shoulders had sunk, and his hands trembled slightly where they rested on the blanket. For a mont, I just stood there, frozen. I didn’t know how to breathe, how to move, or what to call him.

Father?

My lord?

Sir?

The word father felt too heavy, too strange on my tongue. It had been ten long years since I’d said it.

Peter quietly closed the door behind us, and the soft click seed to echo in the stillness. My mother walked closer to the bed, her voice gentle. "Dear, soone’s here to see you."

His eyes opened slowly, tired and heavy. At first, he looked confused. Then his gaze found . He stared. And I saw it, that sa mix of shock, anger, and disbelief that had haunted my nightmares for years.

His voice was rough and dry. "What are you doing here?"

The words hit harder than a slap. Not Hailee, not my daughter, like I was a disease he didn’t want to catch.

My throat tightened. "I... I ca ho," I said quietly. "Peter brought back."

He scoffed weakly, a bitter sound that ended in a cough. "Ho?" he repeated. "You lost the right to call this place ho the day you defied ."

"Dear," my mother whispered, her voice trembling. "Please."

"Silence!" His voice, though weak, still carried command. "You don’t understand, woman. The day she was banished, she shad this family. The daughter of the Stones, defiling herself with gods-know-who, and now she stands here like nothing happened?"

His words cut deep. My eyes burned, but I refused to look away.

"I didn’t co here to argue," I said softly. "I ca because you’re sick. Because despite everything, you’re still my father."

He looked at again, and for a brief second, I thought I saw a flicker of guilt, but it vanished as quickly as it ca.

"You should have stayed away," he muttered, turning his face slightly toward the window. "You bring trouble wherever you go."

Peter stepped forward, his voice authoritative but calm. "Father, enough. She’s not the sa girl you threw out. She’s done nothing but survive, and you owe her at least respect."

My father’s eyes hardened. "Respect? She broke every rule I lived by. She broke this family."

I swallowed hard, stepping closer. "I didn’t break the family," I said, my voice shaking but strong. "You did, when you turned your back on ."

The room went still. For the first ti, he didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened, his breathing uneven.

Finally, he said, "To , I no longer have a daughter."

"Maybe," I whispered. "And I’m not here for your forgiveness."

He didn’t look at . His eyes drifted to the boys standing near the door. His face changed, not soft, but confused. "Who are they?"

I hesitated. "They’re my sons."

His eyes sharpened again. "Your sons," he repeated slowly, his tone like ice. "You never cease to amaze , Hailee. Tell , are they the product of your shaful act?"

"Enough," Peter said sharply. "They’re part of this family whether you like it or not."

My father looked furious but too weak to yell. "This, this is what she calls family?" He turned to , his voice hoarse but biting. "Do you even know what sha you’ve brought upon this house?"

Tears filled my eyes, but I didn’t back down. "Those boys are not sha," I said firmly. "They’re my pride. They’re innocent, they don’t deserve your anger."

For a mont, the fire in his eyes faded. He looked at again, really looked, and I could see the war inside him. Pride against pain. Love buried under years of disappointnt.

He didn’t speak again. He just turned his head away. "I’m tired," he muttered. "Leave ."

My mother’s voice cracked as she wiped her tears. "Please, just."

"I said leave," he growled weakly, though his hand trembled as he pointed toward the door.

Peter took a slow breath and nodded to . "Co, Hailee. Let’s give him ti."

I stood there for a mont longer, my heart breaking all over again. I wanted to say sothing, anything, but the words wouldn’t co.

Finally, I whispered, "I’ll co back later, Father."

He didn’t answer.

As we walked toward the door, Ozzy turned and looked at him. "Goodbye, Grandpa," he said softly.

My father’s hand twitched, just a little, but he said nothing. Still, I saw it, that tiny flicker of emotion in his eyes. A small sign that maybe, just maybe, there was still sothing human left beneath all that pride.

When we stepped out of the room, I let out a shaky breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

Peter looked at . "Don’t worry, he will co around. You know how Father is." Peter tried to assure , and I knew he was right. Father had pride. He was the type who never apologized or accepted he was wrong.

Mother spoke. "I’ll show the boys around," she said, wiping her eyes quickly and forcing a small smile. "Co, my darlings. Let’s get you sothing to eat."

The boys hesitated, still watching , but I nodded gently. "Go with Grandma," I said. "I’ll be right here."

They followed her out of the hall, their small footsteps echoing down the corridor. The mont the door closed, silence filled the space again, heavy, thick, and full of things unsaid.

Peter turned to . "Co," he said quietly. "There’s sothing I want to talk to you about."

I followed him down the long hallway, my heart still pounding from the scene with our father. The palace felt both familiar and foreign, the marble floors, the golden lamps, the old portraits of our ancestors staring down like silent judges. I had walked these halls as a girl full of dreams. Now, I was walking them as a woman full of scars.

We reached his study, a large room with tall shelves full of scrolls, maps, and books. The scent of parchnt and ink filled the air. He motioned for to sit, then closed the door behind us.

I sat slowly on the couch near the window while Peter poured himself a drink. For a while, he said nothing, just stood there, looking thoughtful.

Finally, he turned to . "You made the right decision," he said quietly.

I frowned, confused. "What do you an?"

He walked closer, setting his cup on the desk. "Not ending up with Robert."

The na made my stomach twist. "Robert," I whispered. "It’s been years. I haven’t heard that na in so long."

Peter sighed and sat opposite . "I didn’t want to bring it up, but you should know what happened after you left."

I leaned forward, my heart racing. "What happened?"

Peter’s expression darkened. "He changed, Hailee. Or maybe he was always that way, and we just didn’t see it. A few years after you left, he married the daughter of Alpha Thorne."

My eyes widened slightly. "Alpha Thorne? The one from the Northern Border?"

Peter nodded. "Yes. Her na was Alia. Sweet girl. But after the wedding, things started to co out. He was controlling and cruel; he abused her."

I covered my mouth in shock. "No, that can’t be true. Robert was proud, arrogant maybe, but."

"Hailee," Peter interrupted gently, "he wasn’t just arrogant. He was dangerous. He beat her so badly once that she lost consciousness. A few months later, she died."

I gasped. "Died? But how?"

"He claid she fell down the staircase," Peter said bitterly. "And for a while, everyone believed him. He even held a grand funeral and played the grieving widower. But the truth ca out eventually."

I shook my head slowly. "How?"

Peter stood and began pacing, his tone cold. "He remarried another Alpha’s daughter, from the Mountains Pack this ti. Her na was Liza. The sa pattern repeated: control, violence, abuse. But she was stronger than Alia. She escaped before he could kill her."

My heart pounded. "She told the council, didn’t she?"

Peter nodded. "Yes. She showed them the scars, the bruises, everything. When the truth ca out, Robert was stripped of his title. His own kingdom turned on him. His younger brother took his place as the new King of the Northern Lycans."

I stared at him, speechless. "He, he lost everything."

Peter sighed deeply and sat again. "Yes. And honestly, he deserved it. That man would have destroyed you, Hailee. You were lucky you left when you did."

My chest tightened. "I never liked him."

Peter gave a small, sad smile. "We all thought he was a good choice. Even I did. He was charming, powerful, and clever, the kind of man every king wanted his daughter to marry. But power makes monsters out of weak n. And Robert was weaker than anyone realized."

I stared out the window, my reflection faint against the glass. "So he’s gone now?"

Peter hesitated. "Not gone. Alive, but exiled. He lives far north now, beyond the borders."

I drew a deep breath, feeling a strange wave of relief. At least once in my life, I’d made the right choice.

Then Peter spoke again. "Now our main concern is getting back your wolf and your abilities from Father—and I have a plan for it."

My brow furrowed. "Really?"

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