Avenging Luna
Chapter 128: The Return Of The Crown Prince

Chapter 128: The Return Of The Crown Prince

Chase POV:

Back in the palace, it felt like stepping into a memory that had refused to fade. The sprawling halls, adorned with their cold, marbled grandeur, seemed unchanged, yet the weight of loss hung even heavier in the air. The kingdom, once vibrant and alive, was now draped in mourning, shrouded in a sense of grief that echoed the night my mother was killed. It was the same oppressive heaviness, only now it extended to my father as well.

Rumors of my return had spread like wildfire. I could hear the whispers as I walked through the grand corridors and into the courtyard, where my people had begun to gather. Some faces lit up with excitement, their murmured voices filled with hope. To them, the return of the crown prince meant stability, a sign that their kingdom would endure. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to bask in their joy, feeling the faint stirrings of a connection I hadn’t realized I’d missed.

But their joy wasn’t mine.

As I passed through the palace gates, the familiar scent of cedar and ancient stone enveloped me. Nostalgia hit me hard, unbidden and unwelcome. This was the place where I’d grown up, the place where I’d once believed I could make a difference. Back then, I was just a boy—a naive prince who thought he could save everyone, even rogues. That belief had cost me dearly. It had cost my mother her life.

And now my father was dying.

I clenched my fists as I approached the throne room, the faint hum of voices inside alerting me that court was still in session. My father’s advisors, always the loyal servants of power, were likely debating how best to navigate the kingdom’s future in his absence. Or perhaps they were already laying plans for my ascension, eager to align themselves with the next ruler.

The guards flanking the grand doors straightened as I neared. "Your Highness," one of them said, bowing deeply before pushing open the heavy doors.

Inside, the room was just as I remembered—intimidating and opulent. A long red carpet stretched to the dais where the throne sat, its golden frame catching the dim light filtering through stained-glass windows. My father wasn’t there, of course. He was confined to his chambers, too weak to hold court. The sight of his empty throne made my chest tighten.

"Prince Chase," one of the advisors said, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "It’s been far too long."

I nodded curtly, my gaze scanning the room. "Where is he?" I asked, not bothering with pleasantries. I didn’t have the patience for their empty words or veiled agendas.

"In his chambers, Your Highness," another advisor replied, stepping forward. "The king has been eagerly awaiting your return."

Eagerly awaiting. That was a stretch. My father and I hadn’t spoken since the fallout after my mother’s death. He had blamed me for her murder, and I hadn’t argued. How could I, when I blamed myself just as much? The thought of facing him now, of seeing him reduced to a frail shadow of the man he once was, filled me with a mix of dread and guilt.

As I turned to leave the room, another murmur rippled through the crowd—a hushed, excited energy that made me pause. I glanced over my shoulder to find dozens of eyes fixed on me, their expressions ranging from awe to curiosity. They were hopeful, I realized. My return wasn’t just a family matter to them; it was a symbol. To them, I represented continuity, stability, and strength.

They didn’t know the truth—that I was barely holding myself together, that my thoughts were consumed by a wolf I couldn’t find, that my heart was heavy with unresolved guilt and unspoken grief.

I gave them a tight, formal smile, one that didn’t reach my eyes, before continuing toward my father’s chambers. The journey through the palace felt surreal, like walking through a dream where every corner held a memory. I passed the library where my mother used to read to me, the training grounds where my father had drilled me relentlessly, the garden where my brother and I had played as children.

Finally, I reached his chambers. The guards stationed outside stepped aside, their faces solemn. I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and pushed open the doors.

The sight that greeted me made my chest tighten further. My father lay in a massive four-poster bed, his once-imposing frame now gaunt and frail. The fire in his eyes, the one that had always burned so brightly, was now a faint flicker. He turned his head as I entered, his gaze sharpening when he saw me.

"Chase," he rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You’ve come."

I nodded, stepping closer to the bed. "I’m here, Father."

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between us. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to ask, but I didn’t know where to start. Instead, I sank into the chair beside his bed, the enormity of the moment pressing down on me.

This was the man who had raised me, who had shaped me into the crown prince, who had pushed me to be stronger, better, relentless. And this was the man I had disappointed, the man whose grief I had deepened with my mistakes.

"I didn’t think you’d come back," he said after a long silence, his voice tinged with something that might have been regret. Or relief. I couldn’t tell.

"I couldn’t stay away," I admitted. "Not now."

He closed his eyes briefly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Good. The kingdom needs you. Your brother... he’s not ready."

I swallowed hard, my mind flashing to Leila once again. Could I balance being a king and searching for her? Could I fulfill my duties to my people while trying to find my beloved?

I didn’t have the answers. But one thing was clear: my return marked the beginning of a new Chapter, one that would test me in ways I couldn’t yet imagine.

"Father," I began, my voice steady but laced with urgency, "could you fight to stay alive for a little while longer? I’ve found my beloved."

The change in him was instant. His sunken eyes brightened, and a faint flush of color returned to his pale cheeks. He pushed himself slightly upright, gripping the edge of the blanket as though the news alone gave him strength. "You’ve found her?" he asked, his voice raspy but filled with a spark of hope. "Where is she?"

The light in his eyes twisted a knife of guilt into my chest. I hadn’t expected such a strong reaction, but now that I saw it, I clung to the idea. If this could give him the will to hold on, even for a little while, then I’d use it. Though the truth was more complicated than I wanted to admit.

"I... messed up," I admitted, dropping into the chair beside his bed. The words felt heavy, dragging me down. "She’s hiding from me."

His hopeful expression faltered, and he slumped back against the pillows. "Hiding?" he repeated, his tone sharper now, a hint of the old king slipping through. "What do you mean, Chase? How could you let her get away?"

"It wasn’t intentional," I replied, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "I—I didn’t handle things the way I should have. She panicked and ran. But I’ll find her. I swear I’ll find her. You just have to fight a little longer, Father."

He coughed, the sound deep and rattling, before fixing me with a glare that reminded me of the man he used to be—strong, commanding, unyielding. "You scared her away? Chase, I thought I taught you better than that. A lady, let alone your beloved, isn’t someone you chase off! Did you storm in like a brute? Demand she fall at your feet?"

"No!" I protested, though his chastising tone made me feel like a boy all over again. "I didn’t storm in, and I didn’t demand anything. I..." I paused, the memory of Leila’s fear-stricken face flashing in my mind. "I wasn’t prepared. She found out what I am before I had a chance to explain. She panicked, and things spiraled out of control."

His expression softened slightly, though his disappointment lingered. "Chase, a beloved is a gift. A treasure. We don’t get second chances with them. You must handle this carefully."

"I know," I murmured, my voice low. "I know I messed up. But I won’t give up. I’ll find her and make things right."

He studied me for a long moment, as if weighing my words. Then he sighed, leaning back against the pillows. "You’re my son, Chase. I know you won’t rest until you bring her back. Just... be better. For her sake and for yours."

"I will," I vowed. "But you have to hold on until then. Please."

The faintest smile tugged at his lips, and for the first time in years, he looked like the father I remembered. "Then go," he said, his voice weak but resolute. "Find her. Bring her home. And don’t come back without her."

I nodded, standing. I couldn’t tell him she was a wolf—not yet. That revelation would come in time, once I had Leila by my side. For now, I had a promise to keep.

And I wouldn’t fail. Not this time.

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