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Iona brushed her hands on the inside and found herself… naked. She was covered till her neck with the bedroll and blanket, but she blushed a thousand shades of red observing that she was without clothes. She slid beneath the blanket a bit more. 

"Oh good!" the man replied and sagged with relief. 

"Wh— who are you?" she asked in her hoarse voice. 

"I am Rolfe Cranan Aramaer, the youngest son of Edyrm Cranin Aramaer, the King of Galahar. And at the moment you are in the camps on the southside of Galahar," he said while still staring at her. "And you?" 

Iona's eyes bulged as shock flitted through them. How did she manage to get to the lands of Galahar? The demon kingdom, which was the arch enemy of Vilinski. It was falling from the sky, into a bramble? And why was it that the prince's vicinity was like she wanted to savor… forever? And what was a young prince doing in a camp on the south side of his kingdom? Was he on a hunting trip? Shouldn't he be in his kingdom? He looked so roguishly charming that she was sure he must be having way too many dalliances. The thought made her close her fists tightly out of what seemed like jealousy. She shoved the stupid thought down by swallowing her saliva. 

Should she tell who she was? Or should she hide her identity? "I am Iona Volkov," she found herself telling him in a low voice. 

"Iona Volkov…" Rolfe said in a lilting voice, as if pondering where he had heard the name. "Where are you from, Iona?" 

Iona licked her dry lips and held her breath. "I don't remember…" If she said that she was from Draoidh, it would get her killed immediately. She was sure that the news of Anastasia defeating Etaya was already circling in the Lore. She had to keep her identity secret until she found a way to go back to Draoidh. Anastasia had given her a second chance to live and she was not going to waste it. She would make the most of it. And right now, she had to cleverly hide all traces of her associations. She just hoped that her wolf didn't come out. She had stopped her first shift and she knew that it wouldn't be long before her wolf would want to come out again. And she was also aware that the moment her wolf was out, she would scent her mate. 

Iona gave a side glance to the prince and then lowered her eyes when she found him staring at her intensely… again with those emerald eyes. Her heart accelerated. 


"In that case you should stay with us till you get healthy, Iona," he said in a deep throaty voice that stirred something in her belly. "South Galahar is not a place to roam around on your own. When I found you unconscious and alone on the banks of the lake, you were being hunted by what we call Obsidian Demons. They tend to charm you to death and feed off your miseries." 

Fear crawled on her skin like a spider. With eyes wide, she managed to say, "Obsidian Demons?" 

"Yes, and they are vicious. So you can stay in this camp for as long as you like," he replied, curling his fingers as if resisting a temptation. His pointy ears twitched a little. 

"Thank you, Prince Rolfe," she replied. She had heard the demons of the demon kingdom were merciless, ruthless bastards who were only interested in butchering and slaughtering and looting, but this hulk was exactly the opposite of that image. He was… kind. And except for his horns, he looked like faes. But that wasn't a surprise because the past few days she had done enough research on the bloodlines of two brothers, Faelar and Estelar Aramaer to know that both were faes and while Faelar had created the fae kingdom, Estelar created the demon kingdom. It was obvious that the features had to be similar. 

He chuckled. "Don't call me prince." He got up from his place and walked to the edge of the bed. "I am the son who revolted against his father's policies and hence was exiled from his kingdom. Why do you think I have camped in this wilderness?" 

Revolted? Against the Galahar king? Iona stifled a gasp. What did this mean? Why did the prince revolt? What information was she missing? Her head pounded again and she moaned softly. 

Rolfe strode back to see her and then leaned over her with his arms on both her sides. The muscles on his forearms bulged. "I am sorry to tell you all that, Iona. Rest well. Till you are with me, you will not have any trouble and I will ask my men to find your way back home." His gaze flitted between her eyes and her lips. "Whenever you remember your memories, you must tell them to me, okay?" 

Swept by his pine and misty smell, Iona managed to nod. She was thankful to all the gods that she was completely covered. She wanted to ask as to who removed her clothes, but she went against it. The thought of him leaning over her for another second was embarrassing as hell. 

With yet another intense look, Rolfe left her and she subdued a cry as the intoxicating pine and mist smell went away with him. She closed her eyes to manage her thoughts and figure out a way to get out of Galahar. She had to go back to Draoidh someway. If only she had seen the map of the Lore. Where was Galahar located? Her mind went to the war between faes and the alliance led by her mother. The memory made her chest swell with pride. "Mother…" she whispered. "Papa… I am coming back… soon." Her headache increased with every passing minute and once again she slumbered off in deep sleep. 

--- 

Anastasia woke up nestled against the warm brown fur. The fire in front of her had died and her stomach grumbled. The wolf stirred immediately when she woke up. He let out a small growl that she should remain in the cave while he went out hunting. 

Kaizan shifted into his human form and removed the boulder to get out of the cave. "Don't venture out for too long and stay near the cave," he said, looking over his shoulder before he leapt towards a wall of trees and mist that was swirling around them and shifted. 

Anastasia saw him disappearing into the woods and stretched her limbs. She closed her eyes and stretched. Her stomach rumbled again. She was getting so hungry these days. It was chilly but as the sun ray filled the sky, some of the mist cleared. She took her pair of spare clothes and walked to the nearby pool, right beside the cave to take a bath. Her wings were too dirty and with the sun overhead, she didn't know why, but she wanted to stretch them, clean them. 

When she reached the pool, she took her clothes off and stepped in the coolness of it. She submerged completely with her wings wide open, and when she resurfaced, a pair of golden eyes greeted her. 

"Who—" 



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