By morning, you could already taste the tension in the air.
Ann stood on the palace steps looking over the work sites, cloak thrown over her shoulders against the chill, Coral at her side with a clipboard and two guards hovering close enough to twitch at every sound.
They came in a ragged line through the main gates...men, women, a handful of children clinging to whatever scraps they carried. Wolves in them, yes, but now they were stripped down to bone and stubborn will. No banners flying, no armor on their bodies, just scars and tired eyes.
Lycan survivors.
The guards shifted uneasily.
"They shouldn't be here." One of them muttered
"They're under my protection the moment they set foot on these grounds. Remember that." Ann snarled as she whipped round to face them.
He flushed, bowed his head.
The group halted at the base of the steps. Their leader was tall, even with his shoulders hunched under a torn cloak, and he lifted his chin and met her eyes.
"Majesty," he rasped. "We come from Drask Hollow. What's left of it anyway."
Ann descended the steps slowly, not rushing, not retreating, as her guards scrambled to follow.
"What happened."
His jaw clenched as if the memory was painful.
"The King's men came. A man...no, a monster called Ely was with them. He…" His voice caught in his throat, "He took anyone not noble-born. Said they were… useful stock. We heard the screams from the castle dungeons for days. Some never stopped."
A woman behind him spoke, voice tight.
"He calls them 'corrections.' Flesh twisted, bones broken and reset wrong, wolves spliced with things they shouldn't be. The ones who came back didn't stay alive long. Or wished they hadn't."
Another man broke in, younger, with bruises still yellowing around his throat.
"He takes the ones with strong wolves and..." He swallowed, hard. "Turns them into things that don't remember their own names. They hunt in packs, but they don't speak anymore. Just growl. Like dogs."
A woman clutching a child muttered, voice bitter.
"And the breeders. Taken to the castle. Locked in cells. Forced to bear his… creations." Her face twisted. "We ran before they came for us too."
Coral's pen stilled. Even she couldn't keep scratching notes through that.
Ann's stomach twisted, but her voice stayed level.
"And you?"
"We ran. We ran because rumors said Greyson still lived. That he stood with you. We ran because the King's leash doesn't reach here." He sank to one knee, the rest following suit like a wave. "We pledge to you now, Majesty. Not to bloodlines but to our own choice."
Ann looked over them...battered, scarred, their wolves snarling just beneath their skin. They weren't broken. Not yet.
Army of strays, Maeve cautioned,. And every stray's got teeth. Careful, Ann...you're starting to look like a kennel master.
Ann ignored her.
"Stand. All of you."
They obeyed, slowly, uneasily.
Behind her, the nobles had begun gathering on the terrace, their whispers loud enough to scrape.
"…accepting Lycans into the palace..."
"…she'll destroy the kingdom from within..."
"…strays and monsters..."
"…look how they kneel. Savage mutts pretending at loyalty..."
Ann turned her head just enough for her voice to carry.
"If you have something useful to add, speak. If not, shut your mouths."
The whispers choked off.
But in the camps beyond, refugees weren't as restrained.
A rock hit the dirt near the newcomers' feet. Then another.
"You don't belong here!" a man shouted. "You'll lead all of them here to us!"
A woman spat in the dust. "Your kind are nothing more than murderers! Monsters!"
One of the refugees shoved forward, grabbing the sleeve of a young Lycan and snarling in his face.
"You'll slit our throats in our sleep, won't you? That's what your kind does!"
The young wolf's hands trembled but he didn't raise them. His jaw clenched. His wolf howled behind his eyes, but he held.
The leader kept his gaze on Ann, waiting.
Her chest ached with it...their silence heavier than any defense.
Coral leaned in, low.
"Majesty… if this breaks out into open hostilities, we don't have enough guards to stop it cleanly."
Ann stepped forward, raising her hand until her voice cut the rising tension.
"Enough!" The word rang against the stone. "They are here because they chose peace. Because they chose me. And if any of you think spitting on that choice makes you brave...try it again in front of me."
The refugee who had grabbed the young Lycan froze. The boy's wolf growled low in his chest, but he still didn't strike back.
The camp stilled.
The Lycans bowed their heads, not in submission, but in acknowledgment.
Ann turned back to them.
"You'll be fed, housed, and worked like any other. You'll answer to the same rules. Break them, and you answer to me. Prove yourselves, and you'll find this kingdom is yours as much as anyone's."
The leader's voice was rough but steady.
"We'll prove it. We'll bleed for it, if we must."
Ann nodded once.
"Then you are welcome."
She pivoted back toward the palace, forcing herself to walk confidently and calmly but, inside she felt anything but.
Congratulations, Maeve muttered. You've just adopted the war's orphans. Every noble's chewing their tongue bloody. Every refugee's one insult away from rioting. And Adam's not here to scare them into silence.. But hey...at least you sounded convincing.
In the entrance hall, Eva was waiting, arms folded, expression sharp enough to cut stone.
"You realize what you've done."
"Yes," Ann said flatly.
Eva's brow arched.
"Do you? You didn't just accept survivors. You accepted Lycans. Nobles will call it reckless. Refugees will call it betrayal. They'll spin it into scandal the moment you turn your back."
"Then let them spin, they seem to be having a great time of it at the moment anyway." Ann snapped. "I'd rather be accused of sheltering too many than leaving innocents to be slaughtered."
Eva's lips pressed into a thin line. But she didn't argue.
Coral caught up, breathless and already scribbling.
"We'll need a full resettlement plan. Supplies are thin enough. Do we put them in with the refugees, or keep them apart? Ah there are so many questions and adjustments to be made…"
"They need to be housed together," Ann said instantly. "Separate camps only build walls and separate communities. We're not building walls inside our own gates, what we need is integration."
Coral hesitated.
"That's going to make it a whole lot harder, my Queen. People will lash out."
"In the beginning, yes but then they'll learn," Ann said firmly, "If they can't, then they'll learn from me. The same rules apply to both sides, if they dont want to integrate then the gates are open for them to leave."
The two women exchanged looks but nodded.
Ann sank into a chair for the first time since dawn, exhaustion tugging hard at her ribs. But she didn't let it show.
Not in front of Coral. Not in front of Eva. Not with Adam gone.
She pressed her palm to her temple, only for Maeve's voice to slice through.
You're not leading anymore, Ann. You're stitching corpses of communities together and hoping they'll dance to your tune. Do you think they'll thank you for it? Or tear each other apart the second you take your eyes off them?
"Shut up," Ann muttered under her breath.
Coral looked up. "Majesty?"
"Nothing."
Her eyes slid closed for a second. She could still see the Lycans kneeling, the refugees' rage, the nobles sneering. And through it all, that strange new weight.
Not just survival.
They were looking at her like she was their shield. Their only one.
Her.
Ann exhaled slowly, opening her eyes. "Draft a statement," she told Coral and Eva. "Make it clear: this land belongs to all who seek peace. Refugee, wolf, lycan, human… it doesn't matter. If they want a home, it's here. If they want a fight, they'll find it elsewhere."
Coral scribbled away as Eva tilted her head and Ann sat back, her exhaustion thrumming through every muscle and every nerve in her body but her royal mask?
It was still in place.