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Comrade 116

Comrade 116

va stood at the edge of the Crescent Pack’s grounds, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The air was still, the only sounds the distant howls of wolves and the occasional rustle of the wind in the trees. But the silence felt heavier tonight—oppressive, like the calm before a storm.

A note had arrived earlier, sealed with Vladymyr’s mark. The message was clear: Meet him alone, or face the consequences. And so here she was, standing at the designated spot in the forest, where the shadows seemed to stretch on forever.

Max, ever protective, had wanted to accompany her, but she had insisted that this was something she needed to face alone. She had never been one to bow to threats, and she wasn’t about to start now.

The ground beneath her feet shifted slightly, and from the shadows, Vladymyr emerged. His presence was unmistakable, the aura of ancient power that surrounded him sent a chill through her. He was tall, his features sharp, and his eyes glinted with a dangerous mix of amusement and malice. He was exactly how she remembered him—a reminder of a past she was determined to bury.

“You came alone,” Vladymyr said, his voice smooth, almost mocking.

Eva’s gaze remained unwavering, her jaw tight. “You wanted peace. I came to listen.”

Vladymyr chuckled darkly, taking a step closer. “Peace?” He let out a low, derisive laugh. “No. I’m offering something much more valuable. Immortality, for you and your legacy. The safety of your children—my children.” His eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride and entitlement. “All you need to do is give me what I want.”

Eva’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of her children. Silas, her vampire-blooded son. He was everything to her, and the thought of handing him over—of losing him—was more than she could bear. But she didn’t let her emotions show. Instead, she stood tall, staring him down.

“You think I’ll give him to you?” she said, her voice sharp. “You think that after everything you’ve done, I’ll hand my son over like some kind of… prize?”

Vladymyr’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “He is mine, Eva. He is of my blood, my legacy. It’s only right that he come back to me.”

Eva’s hand twitched at her side, but she remained still. “He is my son, Vladymyr. And you should’ve stayed banished, where you belonged. You never understood the bond between a mother and her children. You think they’re pawns. But my children aren’t pawns. They’re players.”

The words hung heavy in the air between them, an unspoken promise of everything she was willing to fight for. Her family. Her legacy. She wasn’t going to let him win.

Vladymyr’s gaze hardened, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes. “You think you can stop me, Eva? You think you can protect them from me?” His voice grew colder, more dangerous. “I have the power of centuries behind me. And you? You’re just a wolf. A mother who can’t even see the game she’s caught in.”

Eva’s heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t back down. She refused to let fear guide her actions. Her children were not a bargaining chip. Not anymore. “You can’t control me,” she said, her voice a low growl. “And you won’t control them.”

Vladymyr took another step forward, his eyes narrowing with a sense of inevitability. “Then you’ll lose them. You’ll lose everything. And you’ll have no one but yourself to blame.”

Eva’s blood boiled at the threat, but she stayed focused. “You think that by threatening me, by using my children against me, you’ll win? You think that offering me immortality will make me bend to your will?”

“I think you’ll do whatever it takes to protect them,” Vladymyr replied, his voice smooth. “And I think you’ll realize that the only way to keep them safe is by making a deal with me. It’s the only way forward, Eva.”

Eva took a deep breath, her thoughts flashing to her children. Caelum, her strong, wolf-born son, and Silas, her quiet, vampire-blooded child. She had spent so long fighting for them, protecting them from the world. But now, it felt like the world itself was closing in around her, threatening to tear everything apart.

The truth was, she wasn’t sure what the future held. But one thing she knew for certain was that she couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow Vladymyr to control their fate.

Without warning, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the small, delicate scroll. She unrolled it slowly, the parchment crackling slightly in the cold night air. Her eyes flicked down to the words written in Vladymyr’s elegant, old-fashioned script, the treaty he had promised her. A document that would have bound her to him, signed away her children’s freedom.

Eva’s eyes met Vladymyr’s one last time. There was no fear in her gaze, only cold resolve. She raised her hand, and with a single motion, she tossed the treaty into the fire at the altar of the Crescent Pack. The paper ignited instantly, curling into ash before his very eyes.

“No,” Vladymyr growled, his eyes flashing with fury. He took a step forward, but Eva stood her ground, her voice steady.

“You should’ve stayed banished,” she said, her voice ringing clear and strong in the stillness of the night. “My children aren’t pawns. They’re players.”

The flames consumed the treaty, turning it to dust, and with it, any hope he had of controlling her or her legacy. Eva’s heart raced, but she didn’t flinch. This was the only choice she could make.

Comrade

Comrade

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Comrade Summary & Review: Comrade

Princess Evangeline of Morwyn sat in the quiet waiting room of the royal physician’s office, her mind a whirlwind of fear and fragile hope. The grand palace, bathed in soft afternoon light, felt both like a home and a cage. She had been married to Crown Prince Sebastian of Valdris for three years, but their union was nothing more than a political arrangement—an alliance forged by their fathers to secure peace between their lands.

From the very beginning, Sebastian made it clear that his marriage to Evangeline was purely out of duty, not affection. They slept in separate chambers, exchanged only polite words in public, and maintained a cold civility that masked the emptiness beneath. Evangeline had once dreamed that time might change things, that she might earn his heart, but years of distance had buried that hope deep inside her.

Recently, however, her body had begun to change. She felt nauseated in the mornings, dizzy, and uncommonly tired. These signs, though subtle, stirred a small flame of longing within her—a desperate wish that she might finally be carrying his child. Perhaps, she thought, a baby could soften Sebastian’s heart and give meaning to their lifeless marriage.

When the physician, Master Aldrich, appeared at the doorway, his kind smile gave her both comfort and dread. He led her into his study, a cozy room filled with the scent of herbs, the warmth of a crackling fire, and shelves of ancient medical texts. Evangeline sat nervously as the old man took a sealed parchment from his desk.

With a gentle voice, Master Aldrich delivered the news that would change everything: “Your Highness, I’m delighted to tell you that you are indeed expecting.”

Evangeline’s breath caught in her throat. Her trembling hands broke the royal seal and scanned the words written neatly across the parchment. Pregnant. She was truly with child. Before she could even absorb the shock, Master Aldrich continued, beaming with joy—she was not carrying just one baby, but twins.

The revelation sent a rush of emotion through her—relief, disbelief, joy. Twins! Two heirs for the royal family. The weight of that realization made her dizzy, but it also filled her with warmth and purpose. For the first time in years, she smiled with genuine happiness. Perhaps this was the miracle she needed to mend what had long been broken.

In that moment, she imagined Sebastian’s face lighting up with pride and excitement. She pictured him embracing her, maybe even thanking her. The thought filled her with renewed courage. She thanked Master Aldrich graciously and insisted that she would tell Sebastian the news herself. This moment, she decided, must belong to them alone.

Walking through the grand marble corridors of the palace, Evangeline’s heart felt light for the first time in years. Servants bowed as she passed, but she hardly noticed them—her mind was focused only on Sebastian and the life growing inside her. She wanted to see him, to share the joy, to believe that maybe, just maybe, love could still bloom between them.

As she approached the door of Sebastian’s private study, her steps quickened. She called out softly, “Sebastian! My lord, I have the most wonderful news to—”

But her voice faltered.

Through the half-open door, Evangeline froze at the sight before her. Her husband stood with Lady Cordelia Ashworth, daughter of the Duke of Greymont, wrapped in his arms. The woman’s fiery red hair cascaded over Sebastian’s shoulders as he held her close. Evangeline’s heart stopped when she saw him tilt Cordelia’s chin upward and press his lips to hers—a tender, passionate kiss filled with the warmth and love she had begged the heavens for all these years.

It was everything she had ever wanted—and it wasn’t hers.

For a long, unbearable second, Evangeline could only stare. The parchment with her pregnancy confirmation still trembled in her hand. Then, in a broken whisper, she said his name: “Sebastian…”

The Crown Prince turned sharply, surprise flashing across his features before being quickly masked by his usual calm. Cordelia paled and stepped back, though Sebastian’s arm lingered protectively around her waist.

“Evangeline,” he said evenly, as though she were a stranger interrupting him, “what brings you here?”

Her throat tightened. She forced herself to stand tall, even as tears burned behind her eyes. “I… I live here,” she managed, her voice quivering. “I’m your wife.”

Sebastian’s cold gaze didn’t soften. “Is there something you need?” he asked, the same way he might address a court official.

Something inside Evangeline broke. Just minutes ago, she had been radiant with hope, ready to tell him that she carried his children—the future of his line. But now, staring at the indifference in his eyes and the woman in his arms, she realized the truth she had avoided for too long.

He would never love her. Not even their unborn children could change that.

A calmness settled over her—a cold, regal resolve that masked the chaos in her chest. Straightening her shoulders, Evangeline met his gaze with all the dignity her title demanded.

“Yes, my lord,” she said clearly. “There is something I need.”

Sebastian raised a brow, perhaps expecting her to plead, to cry, to beg for an explanation. Instead, she spoke words that shattered the silence of the study.

“I want an annulment.”

Both Sebastian and Cordelia froze. The shock in their eyes was almost satisfying. Cordelia gasped aloud, pressing a hand to her mouth, while Sebastian’s expression turned dark and unreadable.

“What did you say?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Evangeline’s chin lifted higher. Her hands no longer trembled. “You heard me perfectly,” she said. “I want our marriage annulled.”

In that instant, the timid princess who had once waited for scraps of affection was gone. What remained was a woman who had found her strength—not through her husband’s love, but through the pain he had caused.

Inside, she knew she carried the next heirs of the throne—his heirs—but she would not allow that to bind her to a man who treated her like a political pawn. She would raise her children with dignity, even if she had to walk away from the palace to do it.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the crackle of the fireplace and the unspoken consequences of her declaration. But Evangeline didn’t wait for a reply. Gathering her skirts, she turned toward the door, her heart broken yet unburdened.

Her steps echoed through the marble halls as she walked away from the man who had never seen her—and toward the freedom she was finally claiming for herself.

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