Chapter 2 DAPHNE

DAPHNE

Two weeks before the wedding.

I stare at the open journal lying on my desk. The same words stare back at me, no matter how many times I read them. Still, they make no sense.

I let out a sigh, heavy and tired. What are you trying to tell me, Natalie?

This journal is the only thing she left behind before she vanished. No calls, no messages, just this. And inside, just one page with a date and a name:

7 May 2025

Ezekiel Hawthorne

That is it. No explanation. No hint. Every other page is blank.

I flip through it again and again, hoping something would appear. Some clue I may have missed. But there is nothing.

It's been a slow morning here at the office. Most days as a data analyst are quiet, full of spreadsheets and patterns. But today, my thoughts can't settle. Not when Natalie is still missing.

Natalie had never disappeared like this before. She always let me know when she was going on one of her wild trips across the universe as a journalist. Always. This time, though, she just... vanished.

This is different. This is wrong and I don't know what it means.

I glance at the picture frame on my desk. It's a photo of me and Natalie, taken the day I was finally released as collateral to the humans. I remember that day so clearly.

I was just five years old when I was handed over, offered like a peace token between witches and humans. A symbol of harmony, they said.

Natalie was the daughter of the human caregiver assigned to me. She became my first friend. My only friend. She still is.

I can still picture the first time we met, how she smiled at me, how she grabbed my hand and snuck us out of that cold, quiet house. We laughed like we'd known each other forever.

Where are you, Natalie?

"Daphne."

A husky voice cuts through my thoughts. I know that voice. It's Peter, my coworker. I turn around to face him.

"Your aunt is here," he says.

Aunt?

I almost say I don't have an aunt until I see who he's talking about.

Drusilla.

She's not my aunt. She's my father's aide. A true-blood witch. Cold and sharp. And definitely out of place here.

She waves at me like we're close, like she belongs here. I feel my jaw tighten. I hate it when witch business crosses into my human life. Here, I'm living like a normal person. Just Daphne. Just human.

Peter gives me a quick smile before walking off, leaving me to deal with Drusilla on my own.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice sharp with irritation.

"Your father requests your presence," Drusilla replies coolly, leaning against my desk. She lowers her head, trying to peek at the journal I've left open.

I snap it shut before she can read a single word.

"Why does he want to see me?" I ask, folding my arms. "I thought he forgot he even had a daughter."

He hasn't spoken to me since I chose to stay with the humans. Not once. No letters. No magic messages. Nothing.

"Ask him yourself," Drusilla says, her tone bored. She's clearly not interested in small talk and I'm not interested in speaking to her either.

Peter walks over just then, holding a tray with two steaming cups. "Coffee for you and your aunt," he says cheerfully.

Before I can correct him, something happens.

Drusilla lifts her eyes toward one of the cups. It slides off the tray and floats smoothly into her hand.

Peter gasps. The tray slips from his hands and crashes to the floor.

"What the hell did your aunt just do?" he asks, staring wide-eyed at her.

I glare at Drusilla. "Look at what you've done. Erase his memory. Now."

She sighs and rolls her eyes like I'm the one being difficult. I seriously hate her.

"Peter, is it?" she says lazily, locking eyes with him. Her voice drops into a slow, smooth rhythm. "You didn't see anything."

"Yes," Peter answers softly, already under her spell. Then he blinks, confused. "I brought coffee, huh?" He looks down at the mess on the floor. "When did it fall from my hand?"

"Let's go," I say, slipping the journal into my bag. I don't trust Drusilla not to cause more trouble. One more mistake, and my carefully built life as a normal human could fall apart.

She stands from my desk, still sipping her coffee like she owns the place.

"Goodbye, Peter," she says sweetly, handing him the cup. "I enjoyed the coffee."

And just like that, we leave my office.

We arrive at Velwyn Heights, the witch kingdom.

It's been ten years since I last stepped foot here.

The air feels heavier. The sky looks darker. I take a moment to look around, the familiar coldness of this place settling into my bones.

We enter my father's chamber. He's deep in conversation with a few of his subjects. When he sees me, he gives a small nod, then continues talking like I'm not even there.

I walk in without a word and take a seat, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

Finally, he dismisses the others. Good. I have no intention of staying here longer than I have to. This place holds nothing but bad memories.

My father clears his throat as he walks over. Up close, I notice the lines on his face. He's aging.

"How have you been, Daphne?" he asks, lowering himself into the seat across from me.

"As I've always been," I reply, crossing my legs, keeping my voice flat.

"Why did you call me?" I ask, skipping the fake pleasantries.

Father lets out a long sigh before he finally speaks.

"You've probably heard about the alliance between the witches and the werewolves," he says. His voice is dry and tired. "The Alpha and I have agreed to make peace."

I tilt my head, surprised. "Max agreed to peace?" I ask, my voice full of disbelief. That can't be right. Max, the Alpha I know of, hates witches. He's our number one enemy, brutal, violent, ruthless. He never misses a chance to spill witch blood.

"No," Father says, shaking his head. "The new Alpha."

He says it like I should already know. But I don't. I've been too caught up in my life among humans to keep track of werewolf politics.

"There's a new Alpha?" I ask. "What happened to Max?"

"He's dead," Father says simply. "The new Alpha killed him. You know their tradition, kill the Alpha, become the Alpha."

I mouth a silent oh and lean back in my chair, trying to process that. Still, I don't see what any of this has to do with me.

"The new Alpha is of true royal blood," Father continues. "Stronger. Smarter. Far more dangerous than Max ever was. And with the human dignitaries supporting him now, he has the power to wipe us out completely. I had to sign the peace summit for the sake of our people."

"Okay," I say slowly, already losing interest in this political drama. "So why am I-"

"There's going to be a wedding," he cuts in.

"And what does that have to do with me?" I bite out the words.

"It has everything to do with you," Father says calmly. "Because you're the bride."

I sit up straight, staring at him. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not," he says, his voice firm now. "You're the princess. It's your duty to protect our people. If you don't do this, there will be war."

I scoff. "Do I look like I care?"

"Daphne Viremont!" he snaps.

I shoot up from my seat, anger burning in my chest. "You're doing it again, throwing me away, just like when I was five. You gave me up then, and now you're doing it all over again." My hands are shaking. "I won't let you use me."

He says nothing, but I can see it in his eyes. He will always choose the kingdom over me. He always has.

"And for the record," I say, my voice cold, "it's Daphne Jackson now."

That's the name I took after I was adopted by Natalie's mother. That's who I am in the human world.

"I have more important things to do," I say, turning away. Like finding Natalie.

But just as I reach the door, Father speaks again.

"Ezekiel Hawthorne," he says quietly. "He's dangerous."

I freeze.

Slowly, I turn back to face him. "Ezekiel Hawthorne?" I repeat, the name sending chills down my spine.

"Yes," Father says. "He's the new Alpha."

And just like that, everything clicks into place.

The date in Natalie's journal. The name.

It wasn't random. It was a warning.

"The day she disappeared..." I whisper, more to myself than to him.

"If I don't give him a bride before the day ends," Father continues, "he'll take it as a sign that we're not serious about peace. The lives of our people depend on this."

I don't even think twice.

"I'll marry him," I say.

Father looks stunned.

"I'll be the Alpha's bride."