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Comrade 97

Comrade 97

Tiana was the first to notice. She burst into Max’s cabin, her voice frantic. “She’s not in her room. Her scent ends at the edge of the clearing.”

Max sat up, pale and stunned. “She ran again?”

Dany stood behind Tiana, already pulling on his boots. “No guards saw her leave. No notes. No word. She vanished.”

The whole pack stirred into motion, but Tiana and Dany knew where to start. They tracked her scent through the forest, past the border lines, until it reached the old trails—the ones Eva hadn’t walked in years. The ones that led to the lake behind her childhood home.

Tiana paused, breath catching in her throat. “She used to come here when she needed to think. When everything got too loud.”

“She’s not just thinking,” Dany murmured. “She’s breaking.”

When they reached the clearing, they stopped. The early morning mist curled above the lake’s glassy surface. And there she was—Eva—kneeling at the water’s edge, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her face hidden in her hands.

Tiana took a step forward but Dany grabbed her arm. “Wait.”

From the treeline, a figure emerged.

Sylvester.

He moved slowly, deliberately, as if he’d known exactly where she’d be. His dark clothes contrasted with the soft blue morning. But there was no arrogance in his steps. No threat in his voice when he spoke.

“You ran from your wedding,” he said softly.

Eva didn’t look up. Her shoulders trembled as another sob slipped from her lips.

Sylvester knelt beside her, not touching her, just watching. “That means something.”

Her voice cracked when she replied. “It means I’m scared.”

He tilted his head. “Of what?”

“Of you,” she admitted, her body shaking. “Of this… of all of it. Of loving people I can’t protect. Of carrying something inside me I can’t understand. Of losing everything I’ve fought for.”

Sylvester was quiet for a moment. Then, he reached out—not threatening, not forceful—and placed a hand gently on her belly.

Eva flinched at first, but didn’t pull away.

“I can hear them,” he whispered, voice almost reverent. “One heartbeat strong and proud. The other… irregular. Faint but ancient. Like it doesn’t belong to this world.”

“They fight already,” she murmured, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Even now. What kind of mother lets her children fight before they’re even born?”

Sylvester’s eyes softened in a way she’d never seen before. “You were always meant to create destruction, Eva. That was never your choice. But I—” he paused, lowering his head slightly—“I was meant to help you finish it.”

Eva’s eyes widened. “You knew about the prophecy. About them.”

“I knew long before Max ever touched your hand,” Sylvester said. “I knew the moment I saw your power rising. You were the storm that would shatter the world or save it. But only if someone gave you the choice.”

She looked away. “Why are you being gentle with me? You’re supposed to be the villain in all of this.”

He gave a sad smile. “Because I was born a villain. Not by choice. But you… you were born a queen. And you’ve forgotten how to ask for help.”

Eva stared at the lake, the water perfectly still. “I don’t know who I am anymore. Not with these babies inside me. Not with Max’s hope or Tiana’s faith or the war knocking at my door.”

“You’re all of those things,” Sylvester said. “And none of them. You’re something new. Something dangerous. And that terrifies the world.”

She wiped her cheeks roughly with the back of her hand. “I don’t want to destroy the world.”

“Then don’t,” Sylvester said simply. “But if you must, let me be the one to hold it steady while you do.”

Behind the trees, Tiana’s hands trembled. She wanted to rush forward, to pull her sister away from the man who had haunted their lives for so long. But Dany held her back again, whispering, “Let her speak. Let her feel what she needs to feel.”

Tiana’s eyes narrowed. “She’s too close to him.”

“She’s broken,” Dany said gently. “Sometimes when everything falls apart, even the devil’s hand can feel like comfort.”

Back at the lake, Sylvester stood slowly and offered Eva his hand. “Come with me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to betray them,” he said. “I’m asking you to remember who you are… and who you’ll need to become. The people who love you can’t see the darkness in you. But I do. And I’m not afraid of it.”

Eva stood up on her own, not taking his hand. “That darkness almost killed me.”

“But it didn’t,” Sylvester said. “And it won’t. Not if you learn how to wield it.”

Her hand trembled as she placed it protectively over her stomach again. The wind moved through the trees like a whisper. She turned her face away from him and toward the water again, a storm in her eyes.

And she whispered, so quietly that it almost didn’t reach him:

“You were always meant to create destruction… and I was meant to help you finish it.”

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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