Restlessness had gnawed at Anaya's bones all night, and now she felt dead like a wilted flower, reluctant to get out of bed. She heard Icarus moving toward her, checking on her as he had already done several times, but she pretended to be asleep, making sure to keep her breathing slow and steady so he wouldn't know she was avoiding him. She counted each minute until he finally left the room.

His warm eyes would be enough to open the floodgates of her tears, which would then lead to questions to which she had no answers.

She recalled Icarus telling her that Lupinneaus had existed for centuries, even before his grandmother was born, so what she had seen didn't make any sense. But she had a lot of time to analyze, and there was no denying the truth. Icarus had transformed into Lupinneaus, the beast feared by everyone for its menace.

She should have connected the dots sooner. Cy's eyes were like molten fire, blazing with an intensity that could illuminate the darkness, mesmerizing her since the day they first met. And thinking back to the glowing amber eyes of Lupinneaus, it was as if a light bulb had been switched on in her mind. Icarus' blood could heal the worst of injuries. He had healed her hand with his touch a few times. It seemed to have also cured her hallucinations and fever until the day they went to the orphanage. But after they had mated, he closed her mark with his blood, and she again stopped hallucinating. She finally understood why the beast had followed the pack when they migrated to another land.

It made her heart ache because, while she would do anything for her kingdom, she could never harm Icarus nor let anyone else lay a finger on him. Her thoughts cleared with the finality of her decision, giving her much-needed strength despite the exhaustion weighing her down like a leaden cloak.

She rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to finish her morning routine. Once she felt calm and composed, she sat down on the bed and called her mother.

Rasharaya appeared in a flash of shimmering blue light, looking as enchanting as always. Her flawless smile remained intact as she occupied the space beside Anaya on the bed. Silence hung in the air, thick and awkward, with neither of them breaking it. Anaya's apprehension grew, as she knew all too well her mother's tendency to dominate conversations and steer them in the direction she wanted. But the truth had been churning inside her, consuming her with guilt and fear, so she couldn't keep it buried any longer. "We can't kill Lupinneaus."

"Why?"

"The beast is Icarus, Mother," she whispered, her voice trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. "I-I saw him last night."

"I was hoping you wouldn't find out."

"You knew?" The words came out as a gasp, tinged with betrayal. She must have heard wrong, right?

"Does it matter?" Rasharaya couldn't see the relevance of the topic when she had other things to do. "We need the cure."

Her stomach dropped. "How could you send me to kill him?"

"The beast is immortal, but the true mate can kill it. That's you."

"Does Casey know?"

"Listen, my sweet child," Rasharaya said in a honeyed voice, but the underlying steel in her words was unmistakable. "You can get any male in our kingdom. Forget the wolf."

Rage erupted through her, blinding her senses. She stood up, unable to contain herself. How could her mother be so callous? "He is my mate!"

"You must kill him, Anaya." Rasharaya's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing to slits. "You promised us."

"I can't do it, Mother." She shook her head. "I won't sacrifice his life."

"You can't back out. It's the only way to save us all."

"How can I kill the man I love?"

Rasharaya heaved a sigh, reaching out to comfort her. "I know it's hard, but you don't have a choice. The fate of our kingdom rests on your shoulders."

Anaya stepped back. She did not need her false sympathy. "Icarus can donate his blood if I ask him."

"That won't work. We need the blood of Lupinneaus."

"They both are the same! It works on me. Do you not see it?"

"Why didn't your memory come back?" she asked pointedly. "You also hallucinated after returning from the orphanage, didn't you? The effect of Icarus's blood is only temporary, and that too because you're his mate."

Anaya stared at her mother, her eyes pleading as desperation gripped her. "I can't live without him."

"It will be fine. You don't need a mate."

Rasharaya's indifferent tone cut through Anaya, slicing her heart into pieces.

"How can you be so cruel?" Anaya screamed. "This is unfair to me."

"It's for our kingdom. I'm giving you two weeks to rectify your mistake. We will wait for the good news."

"Please leave."

Alone in the room, tears began to flow freely down her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stifle her sobs, knowing that if he heard her, it would only make matters worse. She wasn't worthy of him, not when her kingdom intended to kill him for his blood. The terror of losing him engulfed her, tearing her apart from the inside. Her chest heaved up and down, each breath hurting her more than the last. But that was nothing compared to the thought of hurting Icarus, the only person who had shown her what a blessing it was to be loved. She felt helpless and lost, as if the weight of the world was forced upon her shoulders.

"Anaya?"

She hastily brushed away the wetness from her cheeks before facing the door, hoping to hide away the traces of her sadness. But the concern that took over his face told her that he could see through her façade.

"I'm fine."

"Liar," he said, closing the distance between them and running his fingers under her eyes. "You can share your fears with me."

She nodded, her throat tight with emotion. "I know."

"Tell me then," he urged gently.

She opened and closed her mouth, searching for the right words, but nothing felt appropriate for the moment. It was either spilling all the secrets or nothing. She wrapped her arms around his neck, curling her fingers through his hair. "I love you."

"I love you too." He returned the embrace, squeezing her tightly against him. "Don't be afraid. Healers are working on a cure."

As they pulled away, he cupped her cheeks with a reassuring smile. "Let me take you somewhere."

"What about your work?"

"It's done for this month."

She couldn't help but be curious as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. She wasn't particularly in the mood to swim or sunbathe. Thankfully, Icarus had other plans. He veered her to the art room, which had high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings and wide windows that allowed natural light. The air was thick with the smell of paint, a heady mix of turpentine and linseed oil that clung to every surface. It was at once comforting and familiar, bringing back memories of endless hours spent experimenting with different colors and ideas. A wooden shelf stood in the corner, stocked with jars of paint, brushes, palettes, and other art supplies. Canvases of varying sizes, some blank and others already painted, filled most of the space.

She examined the paintings with concentration and realized Icarus was not joking when he'd once mentioned he could paint.

"Do you sell your works?"

"Nicholas takes them to town once a month. It's a reliable source of income."

"Are you going to paint for me?" she asked, her voice reflecting her excitement.

"We both will." He smirked. "The winner gets to make a wish."

"A painting contest? What makes you think I can paint?"

"Lisa found the canvases you'd hidden in your closet while moving your stuff to the master bedroom," he teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Anaya felt the heat rising up her neck, suffusing her skin with a rosy hue. She had started painting in a desperate attempt to distract herself from thoughts of him. But to her dismay, they turned out to be portraits of him. In a fit of anger and frustration, she abandoned them, unable to stand the reminder of her feelings for him.

"Okay," she agreed, settling in front of a medium-sized canvas. "We don't get to look till the time is up."

The room fell into a hushed silence, with the only sound being the gentle, repetitive stroking of their brushes against the canvas. Anaya's focus was razor-sharp, her mind devoid of everything but the man in front of her. He sat with his back straight and his head slightly inclined as he worked on his painting. Though she couldn't see his canvas from where she sat, she could see the way his hand moved with precision, each sweep of his brush confident and purposeful. The light from the window highlighted his sharp features, giving a lovely shine to his face. She couldn't help but notice how his intense stare made him even more enticing.

Icarus was adding finishing touches to his painting when he sensed Anaya's eyes on him. He glanced at her to find her staring at him. He raised an eyebrow, to which she shook her head and returned her attention to her canvas. But, he noticed her peeking at him again a few minutes later. He wasn't sure if she was painting or just watching him the whole time. He smiled contentedly as he completed his piece and approached her. She moved her canvas away from him before he could see it.

"Don't disturb me."

"Show me, and I'll leave you alone," he promised.

"It's incomplete."

"You mean blank?" he countered.

Anaya's mouth formed an 'o' at his accusation. "Fine," she conceded. "Come here."

As he leaned in, she deftly brushed a streak of paint onto the tip of his nose. He froze, taken aback by the sudden cold touch. She laughed at his comical expression, which only made him want to retaliate. He grabbed a brush and dipped it into the same jar of yellow paint. She scrambled off the chair and backed away from him. But before she could make her escape, he caught her by the waist. She yelped when he swept the brush across her cheeks.

"Now we are even." He grinned, pleased with himself.

"This calls for war!" She tried to snatch the brush from him, but he raised his hands high above his head, evading her attempts and causing her scowl to deepen. He chuckled, finding her determination rather endearing. Slowly but surely, she began to soften, her lips curving into a smile as she watched him, unable to resist the infectious joy that radiated from him.

It solidified her decision to protect him from her kingdom.