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~Elara’s POV
I slept more deeply than I ant to.
It was the kind of sleep that wraps around your body and pulls you under without asking. No dreams. No thoughts. Just darkness and warmth. And when I woke, it felt like I had been dragged back instead of gently called.
My body hurt.
Not sharp pain. Just sore. Heavy. Like I had run for miles the day before. My head throbbed softly, and my throat felt dry. I tried to sit up, but my arms shook, and I groaned before I could stop myself.
"Easy," my mother’s voice said imdiately.
I opened my eyes. She was right there. Sitting close. Too close. Like she had not moved all night.
"You scared us," she said, brushing my hair back gently. Her hand felt cool on my forehead. "How do you feel?"
"Tired," I murmured. "And strange."
That was the best word for it. Strange.
She smiled, but her eyes were worried. "Stay still."
The door opened, and my father walked in with long steps. Alpha Rowan. Strong. Tall. His face changed the mont he saw my eyes open.
"Elara," he said quickly. "You’re awake."
"I am," I replied. My voice sounded weak, even to .
"One of your maids ca to call us at midnight, saying that you were sweating profusely and won’t wake up,"
"I was a bit tired," I said, softly.
He sat beside the bed, taking my hand like he was afraid it would disappear.
"We called the healer," my mother said softly.
As if on cue, the old healer stepped forward from the corner of the room. I hadn’t even noticed him before. He bowed low to my parents before turning to .
"Princess," he greeted.
He checked my eyes. My pulse. Pressed his fingers against my wrist, my neck. Whispered things under his breath, I did not understand. Signs and words that sounded older than the walls.
I lay there quietly. Watching.
Not just with my eyes.
Sothing in was watching from deeper inside. My present self. Standing back. Feeling wrong. Because none of this matched my world. None of this made sense.
But the Elara in the bed did not question it.
Finally, the healer stepped back and bowed again.
"She is fine," he said. "Her body is tired, but not hard. She needs rest, and needs to take the herbs that I will brew for her."
My mother let out a breath she had been holding. My father nodded once, sharp and firm, like he had been holding himself together with rules alone.
"Thank you," my father said.
The healer bowed again and left quietly.
"I’m not leaving you," my mother said at once, turning to . "Not today."
"You have to stay with her. How I wish I can stay with you..." my father said, though his voice was reluctant. "But I must attend the council. And we are hosting an important guest today."
She looked at him, then back at . "Go," she said. "I will stay."
He leaned down, kissed her forehead, then mine. The kiss on my head was soft. Protective.
"Rest," he told . "I’ll be back soon."
When he left, the room felt gentler.
My mother helped sit up slowly, supporting my back with pillows. She fed warm food herself. Spoon by spoon. Like I was younger. Like she had all the ti in the world.
"Eat," she said. "You’ll feel better."
She was right.
The herbs slled bitter, but after I drank them, my body slowly loosened. My head cleared. The heaviness faded.
Later, I leaned back and sighed. "I want fresh air."
She frowned. "You should stay in bed."
"I’ve been in bed," I said lightly. "I just want to breathe."
"Elara...."
"Please."
That word worked.
She hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But I’ll be with you."
She wrapped a light shawl around my shoulders and guided slowly through the palace halls. Guards bowed. Servants smiled. Everyone looked at like I mattered.
It unsettled my present self deeply.
We reached the fountain in the inner courtyard. Sunlight danced on the water. Birds chirped nearby. It felt peaceful.
My mother sat beside . "Better?"
"Yes," I said. "Much."
We talked. About nothing. Small things. The feast. Lira’s laughter. Ronan’s terrible jokes.
Then I told her.
About Ronan.
"He told he likes ," I said quietly.
She smiled gently. "I guessed."
"I said no," I added quickly. "I told him I don’t feel that way."
Her smile grew warr. "That was the right thing."
"I don’t want to hurt him."
"You didn’t," she said. "You respected him."
I looked at the water. "I only want my true mate."
She squeezed my hand. "And you will know him."
That was when I felt it.
A shift.
My eyes lifted without aning to.
And then I froze.
Darlon.
My present self went still. My heart slamd. Of all people. Of all faces.
He stood across the courtyard, walking toward us.
Alpha Darlon.
My past self just watched calmly.
Darlon stopped in front of us. His gaze t mine. And sothing passed between us. Sothing deep and quiet.
My mother stood and bowed low. "Alpha Darlon."
It took a second to rember myself. I bowed too.
"Princess Elara," he said. His voice was smooth. Calm. Like he was not standing too close. Like he did not suddenly fill all the space around .
Then he smiled.
And goodness help , my past self smiled back.
It wasn’t forced. Not shy. Just natural. Like this was normal. Like I had known him for a long ti and was happy to see him again.
We spoke lightly. Small words. Easy laughter. The kind of talk people use when they enjoy standing in front of each other and want to stay a little longer.
"You look well," he said, his eyes moving over my face slowly, as if checking for sothing only he could see.
"I am," I replied, without thinking. My voice sounded warm. Too warm.
"I hear you were unwell."
"Only tired."
He nodded. "You should not push yourself."
"I won’t," I said.
We laughed then. It was a soft laughter. It was quiet. The kind that slips out before you can stop it.
Too softly.
I felt it in my chest. That strange pull. Like sothing pulling towards him.
"Is this how others feel once they et their mate?" I thought inwardly.
My mother cleared her throat. Loud and sharp.
The sound broke sothing between us.
Darlon straightened, his smile turning polite, careful. "I will return later," he said, bowing slightly. "You should rest."
"I will," I answered.
He held my gaze for one more second. Just one. Then he turned and walked away.
I watched him go.
I did not realize I had stopped breathing until my mother spoke again.
"What was that?" she asked.
Her voice was not angry. Just curious and gentle.
I looked at her, then again at the space where he had stood. My heart was beating too fast. My hands felt warm.
"I don’t know," I said truthfully. "But I feel it here."
I touched my chest. Right over my heart.
She watched my hand. Then my face for a long mont, and she said nothing.
Finally, she smiled.
"Then maybe," she said softly, "that is where it begins."
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