Avenging Luna
Chapter 127: The Crown Prince

Chapter 127: The Crown Prince

Chase POV:

She was gone. Just vanished. It was as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth, leaving no trail, no clue, nothing but a gaping void where she used to be. I called Damon—the only person I could trust with the truth. I needed help, and he was the only one I could count on to have my back. He was my brother, and the only one who wouldn’t judge me for what I was about to tell him: that my mate was a wolf.

Yeah, a wolf. My fucking mate. The Moon Goddess must have been drunk when she decided to pair me, a vampire, with someone from the very species I was supposed to hate.

Damon had agreed to help, despite being less than thrilled about the whole wolf situation. His loyalty wasn’t the issue—it was his cocky attitude. I warned him not to underestimate her. I told him she wasn’t just any wolf. Leila was strong, smart, and resourceful. But Damon? Of course, he didn’t listen.

He found her before I could. He called me, sounding all smug, saying she was holed up in some rundown motel. I told him to keep an eye on her. Do not engage. That’s what I said. Wait for me. But no. Damon being Damon, he didn’t listen. By the time I got there, I found him sprawled on the ground with a broken neck. I could have laughed if I wasn’t so angry.

When Damon finally healed, he told me what happened. She’d tried to run, and instead of just following her like I told him, he decided to pick a fight. With my mate. I wanted to break his neck again, just for good measure. What the hell was he thinking? But I guess she taught him a lesson. My Leila wasn’t one to be underestimated, and Damon paid the price for his arrogance.

The worst part? He let her escape. By the time I got there, she was gone. Again. We were back to square one. No trains or buses were scheduled to leave that night, so she must have gone off the grid.

It’s been a year. An entire fucking year, and I still haven’t found her. At first, I blamed Damon. Hell, I still kind of do. But deep down, I know it’s my fault. I should have handled everything differently. I should have told her what she was to me gently, not let her find out the way she did. She panicked, and now she’s gone.

The only thing keeping me sane is the bond. That faint hum in my chest reminds me she’s alive. Somewhere out there, she’s still breathing, still existing, still mine—even if she doesn’t want to be. But every day that hum feels fainter, as if she’s slipping further and further away.

I’ll find her. I have to. Because no matter how far she runs, no matter how hard she tries to hide, she’s my mate. And I don’t care if it takes a lifetime—I’ll bring her back.

THREE YEARS LATER.....

The summons came as a blow I wasn’t prepared for. My father was dying. Damon’s voice had carried an edge of urgency when he delivered the news, but I still didn’t want to believe it. My father, the vampire king, was supposed to be invincible. At least, that’s the illusion he had always maintained. But even kings fall, especially when the weight of grief becomes too much to bear.

It had been five years since my mother’s death. Five long years since a rogue ripped her away from us. She was my father’s beloved, his reason for living. Without her, his will to endure had been slowly crumbling. Vampires live for their beloveds. They are our light, our purpose, our very reason for existence. Without them, we either turn to madness, succumbing to bloodlust like feral beasts, or we wither away, consumed by the void they leave behind. My father was the latter—dying not from injury or age, but from sheer heartbreak.

I’d always blamed myself for my mother’s death. Hell, my father had blamed me too. A rogue vampire had taken her, one I should have killed long before. He had been my friend, someone I foolishly believed could be saved, even after he turned. I thought there was still humanity left in him. I was wrong.

When he killed her, it shattered everything. My family, my convictions, my faith in second chances—it all crumbled. My father’s fury was unrelenting, his grief an open wound he lashed out with every time he looked at me. "Your mercy cost me my mate," he had spat at me once, venom dripping from every word. And he was right. I should have killed the rogue when I had the chance.

Unable to bear the weight of my guilt or my father’s scorn, I left. I joined the Order, a faction dedicated to hunting rogues, and became their weapon. Killing rogues became my penance, each execution a futile attempt to absolve myself of the sin I carried. I promised myself that one day I would find my mother’s killer and bring his head to my father. But years passed, and the rogue remained elusive. The longer I hunted him, the more hollow my promise felt.

And then Leila happened. She stormed into my life like a whirlwind, derailing everything I thought I knew about myself, about mates, about destiny. My obsession with her had overshadowed everything else, including my quest for vengeance. It wasn’t until Damon’s call that I was forced to confront the fact that I had failed my father yet again.

Now, I was being summoned back to a home I hadn’t stepped foot in for years. My father wanted to see me, and Damon insisted it wasn’t just a request—it was a deathbed wish. The idea of facing him without the head of my mother’s killer was unbearable. How could I ask for his forgiveness when I had nothing to offer him? Not even the satisfaction of justice.

And what about Leila? She was still out there, running from me, from herself, from the bond we shared. Would my father ever get the chance to meet her, to see the woman who had turned my world upside down? The answer was painfully clear. If I didn’t find her soon, he never would.

Dread clawed at me as I prepared for the journey back home. The palace was a place of memories, most of them painful. I wasn’t the same man who had left it years ago. The boy who once sought his father’s approval at every turn was gone, replaced by someone harder, colder—a rogue hunter driven by guilt and regret.

But deep down, I knew that no matter how much I tried to steel myself, facing my father would tear me apart. He was the only one who truly understood the depths of what it meant to lose a beloved. And now, as his life ebbed away, I realized just how much I had let him down.

I didn’t know if I was ready to see him again, to face the raw wounds I had left behind. But one thing was certain: time was running out—for him, for me, for the chance to set things right.

And as I prepared to step into the shadow of my past, I couldn’t shake the lingering ache in my chest. Somewhere out there, Leila was still running. And I couldn’t decide what hurt more—the idea of losing my father or the possibility that I might never catch her.

Returning home wasn’t just a necessity—it was a responsibility. With my father’s health deteriorating, it fell to me, the crown prince, to shoulder the weight of the throne. I had spent years running from that inevitability, burying myself in rogue hunting and avoiding the palace like it carried a plague. But now, I had no choice. My father was dying, and I had to step up.

Becoming king wasn’t a position I had ever wanted, but it was one I was born into. The firstborn. The heir. It wasn’t just a title; it was a burden. And with it came expectations, traditions, and scrutiny. It was already scandalous enough that I had left the palace to work with the Order, forsaking my royal duties to chase redemption. Now, I’d have to walk back into that world of formality and politics, all while carrying secrets no king should ever have.

Leila. My mate.

The thought of her made my chest tighten with equal parts yearning and frustration. How could someone I had known for such a short time consume my every waking thought? But she wasn’t just anyone. She was my mate. My beloved. The one the goddess had crafted for me. Except... she was a wolf.

If my father knew that, it might push him over the edge entirely. He was already weakened, wasting away from the loss of my mother. Vampires, especially those bonded to a beloved, don’t just live—they exist for their mate. When that bond is severed, their will to live crumbles. For my father, it had been a slow unraveling ever since my mother’s death. Telling him I had found my beloved, and that she was a wolf of all things, would be like pouring salt into a gaping wound.

No, I couldn’t tell him. Not yet.

Not while he was dying.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to use my new position to search for her, though. Being king would give me resources and influence far beyond what I had as a rogue hunter. I could put out discreet feelers, track her movements, and locate her without anyone suspecting the truth. To the outside world, it would seem like the crown prince—soon to be king—was simply tying up loose ends and ensuring stability in his realm. No one needed to know I was searching for a woman who had my heart, a woman who didn’t want to be found.

And yet, the closer I got to returning home, the more I questioned how my father would feel if he knew the truth. Would he understand? Would he see Leila for who she truly was—my salvation? Or would he only see her wolf side, a being he had been conditioned to see as lesser, as different, as something no vampire should ever bond with?

I shook my head, dismissing the thought. There was no point in speculating. My father wouldn’t know. Not now. Maybe not ever.

The train of thoughts gnawed at me as I prepared for my journey. I was about to enter a new Chapter of my life, one that would require me to put on a mask of composure and strength for my people. I had to become the king they needed. But beneath the surface, I would remain a man haunted by his past, a man desperately searching for the one person who could make him whole again.

And as much as I hated to admit it, there was a bitter irony in all of this. For years, I had resented my father for blaming me for my mother’s death, for holding me responsible for a tragedy I couldn’t undo. Now, I was standing on the edge of making the same mistake. If I couldn’t find Leila, if I couldn’t bring her back, would I let her absence consume me the way my father had let my mother’s?

Would I lose myself in the same abyss of grief and regret?

Shaking off the thought, I steeled myself. I had a kingdom to return to, a legacy to uphold, and a mate to find. The road ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: I would not give up on Leila. Not now. Not ever.