WonNovels

Chapter 1: The Boundary Between Dawn and Dusk

For Elara, the distance between heaven and hell was simply the arc the sun traced across the sky.

The first rays of morning light pierced through the heavy velvet curtains, sprinkling like gold dust into the castle's master bedroom. Elara woke in warmth, the familiar, scorching body behind her. A strong arm lay across her waist, locking her firmly in his embrace with a suffocating possessiveness.

This was the only moment of the day she could breathe.

"Don't move," the man behind her murmured, his voice husky with the laziness of waking, "Let me hold you a little longer."

Elara closed her eyes, tears silently seeping into the pillow. She greedily inhaled his scent—cedar, rain-washed forest, and the domineering yet reassuring musk of an Alpha wolf. This was Kael's scent. It was the Kael who loved her, not the monster who hated her.

Kael turned over, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his warm lips gently grazing the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Good morning, my Queen."

Elara turned to meet those amber eyes. At this moment, they were filled with a tenderness so deep it could drown a person, thick as honey. This was the cruelest part of this accursed spell—it gave her the best lover in the world, but only for twelve hours.

"Good morning, Kael." She forced a smile, though her voice trembled slightly.

Kael keenly sensed her unease. His brow furrowed, his long fingers gently stroking her cheek before sliding down to stop at her collarbone. There, a bruise, dark and purple, stood out shockingly against her pale skin.

The air instantly solidified. The tenderness in Kael's eyes instantly transformed into a murderous rage, the instinctive reaction of an Alpha wolf seeing his mate injured.

"Who did this?" His voice was low as thunder, his fingertips trembling as they hovered over the bruise, as if afraid to hurt her. "Who dares to harm you in my castle? Give me a name, Elara, and I will tear his hands off."

Elara's heart constricted violently, as if gripped by an icy hand.

It was you. She screamed silently in her heart. It was you who left this when you shoved me against the stone pillar last night. It was you who choked me, calling me a lowly spy.

But she couldn't say it. She absolutely could not say it.

"It was my own carelessness," Elara lowered her eyelids, lying skillfully—a painful skill she had perfected over the past year. "Yesterday at the training grounds, I accidentally bumped into a weapon rack."

"The training grounds?" The anger in Kael's eyes didn't subside, but a hint of self-blame appeared. "What were those damn guards doing? You are the Queen; you shouldn't suffer like this. I shouldn't have let you leave my sight."

He lowered his head, planting a reverent kiss on the bruise. His lips were so soft, so hot, trying to heal the wound with a kiss. Elara felt a sharp pain, not from her skin, but from the depths of her soul. His tenderness was like salt sprinkled on her hidden wounds.

"Promise me, Kael," she cupped his face, her fingers tracing his strong jawline, her gaze desperate as if taking a last look, "No matter what happens, tonight... do not blame yourself for anything."

Kael looked at her in confusion and chuckled lightly. "Fool. I will only blame myself for failing to protect you. You are my Fated Mate, my soul. As long as the sun rises, I will love you forever."

As long as the sun rises.

Elara's heart broke in two. Because the sun would eventually set.

The day passed too quickly. As if to make up for her "injury," Kael kept her by his side all day. When dealing with official business in the study, he insisted she sit on his lap; when inspecting the territory, he held her hand tightly. The look in his eyes was filled with the obsession and adoration only a Fated Mate possesses.

But Elara's gaze could not leave the sky outside the window.

Time was ticking away. The shadows were lengthening.

When the clock struck six, the last glow of the setting sun stained the horizon red. The light in the study began to dim. Every muscle in Elara's body tensed, and fear drowned her like a tidal wave.

"I should go," she stood up abruptly, her movements so flustered she knocked over the inkwell on the desk. "I don't feel... very well. I want to go back to my room to rest."

"I'll accompany you." Kael stood up immediately, reaching out worriedly to support her.

"No!" Elara screamed, her voice so loud it stunned Kael. She took a step back, gasping for air. "No, Kael, please, don't come over. Let me go by myself."

She had to leave his sight before he turned. She couldn't bear to watch that transformation in his eyes again—from deep affection to instant disgust, like looking at a pile of trash.

Kael frowned, a flash of hurt in his eyes, but he respected her wishes. "Alright, my love. If that is what you want. But I will check on you later..."

"Don't come!" Elara practically fled the study.

She ran barefoot along the cold stone corridor, her heart slamming against her ribcage. She had to run back to her corner, the dark servant's room at the bottom of the castle. That was her shelter for the night.

Just as she ran past the corner, the last ray of sunlight vanished below the horizon.

A terrifying chill instantly swept through the entire castle. Elara stopped, leaning against the wall, gasping for breath. She knew it had happened.

The Kael who loved her deeply had fallen asleep. Awakened was the cursed Alpha who had forgotten everything.

Heavy footsteps approached from behind. It wasn't the brisk, energetic pace of daytime Kael, but the oppressive pacing of a predator.

Elara turned stiffly.

At the end of the corridor, Kael stood in the shadows. His figure was still tall and upright, but his entire aura had changed completely. Those amber eyes that were once warm as honey had now turned into a cold, temperature-less gold, pupils slit like a beast staring at prey.

He looked at her as if looking at a total stranger and intruder. No, worse than a stranger. His eyes were filled with disgust reserved for filthy things.

"You again," Kael's voice was cold as a poisoned knife; he didn't even deign to say her name. "The woman who always scurries around the castle like a rat."

Elara lowered her head, hiding her trembling hands behind her back. She curtsied humbly, her voice hoarse. "Your Majesty."

Kael walked up to her, looking down at her imperiously. He reached out, and Elara flinched instinctively—a movement that enraged him. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up. His grip was strong, pressing exactly on the bruise he had kissed that morning.

The pain struck again, but his words hurt more.

"You smell disgusting," Kael wrinkled his nose in revulsion. It was the scent he had left on her during the day, but he couldn't recognize it now; he only felt it was some lowly mark. "Tell me, who sent you? A witch? Or a rival wolf pack? Do you think you can confuse me with this pitiful look?"

"I am just... a servant here, Your Majesty," Elara whispered, tears swirling in her eyes.

"A servant?" Kael sneered, flinging her face away as if he had touched something dirty. He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket, meticulously wiped the fingers that had just touched her, and then threw the handkerchief on the ground.

"Get back to your dungeon. If I see you lingering near my study again, I'll throw you to the wild wolves in the forest."

He turned and left, his black cape billowing behind him like a wall of finality.

Elara slid down the cold stone wall to the floor, picked up the handkerchief he had discarded, and clutched it tightly to her chest. This was her life. A queen who owned the world by day, a prisoner lowly as mud by night.

This was the price she paid to save his life.

Chapter 2: Memories in the Dungeon

The castle's underground area always smelled of mold, mixed with old straw and dried blood. Elara curled up on the narrow wooden cot; this was her "bedchamber" for the night.

Compared to the four-poster bed upstairs draped in silk and velvet, the cold here almost seeped into her bones. But Elara didn't care about the physical pain. She closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift back to a year ago, to that stormy night that changed everything.

Back then, she was dying.

A curse called "Shadow Poison" was eroding her body. It was a trap set by a rival clan to take revenge on Kael. As an ordinary wolf with no strong healing abilities (and even half-human), Elara could only lie in bed waiting for death.

She remembered Kael's state back then. That proud Alpha King who never bowed to anyone, kneeling in the rain, covered in mud, roaring and begging frantically.

Holding the dying her, he broke into the Forbidden Forest and found the legendary witch—Selene.

"Save her!" Kael's roar drowned out the thunder. "As long as you can save her, I'll give you anything! My throne, my power, even my life!"

Selene walked out of the shadows. She was breathtakingly beautiful, but cold as a viper. She looked at Kael, her eyes gleaming with greed. She didn't want the throne, nor his life. She was jealous. She was jealous of the bond between these Fated Mates that transcended life and death.

"I want your memories, Wolf King," Selene's voice was like silk rubbing against sandpaper. "I want to take away your memory of 'love.' I want you to completely forget who she is at night—when the moon rises, and when wolves crave their mates the most. You will see her as an enemy, you will loathe her, and you will personally torture the one you love most."

"If you agree, she lives. But the price is that you will live forever in a cycle of 'oblivion' and 'hatred'."

Elara couldn't speak then; she tried desperately to shake her head, wanting to tell Kael: No, let me die, don't accept this curse.

But Kael didn't hesitate. He looked at Elara's pale face, his eyes filled only with resolve.

"Deal," he said. "As long as she lives."

The contract was sealed. Elara survived, but their love died—or rather, half of it died.

A loud bang in reality pulled Elara back from her memories. The dungeon door was kicked open.

"Come out, slave."

It was the castle steward, a snobbish man who was extremely harsh to her at night.

"His Majesty is entertaining distinguished guests in the banquet hall tonight, and Lady Selene is there too. His Majesty specifically asked for the woman who 'looks the most pitiful' to pour the wine." The steward looked at Elara mockingly. "He's talking about you. Hurry up, don't keep His Majesty waiting."

Elara's heart sank to the bottom. Selene. That witch not only cast the curse but often visited the castle as a guest, enjoying this twisted drama. She loved watching Kael humiliate Elara.

Elara changed into a rough gray linen dress and walked into the banquet hall with her head lowered.

The hall was brightly lit, the aroma of fine wine and food filling the air, a stark contrast to the moldy smell underground. On the throne, Kael sat lazily, swirling a glass of red wine. His shirt collar was open, revealing a solid chest full of wild charm.

But beside him sat Selene. The witch wore a crimson gown, like a burning fire, pressing closely against Kael's arm.

"Your Majesty," Selene giggled, pointing at Elara as she walked in. "Look, this is that strange servant in your castle. She always looks like she's suffered some great injustice; it's such a killjoy."

Kael glanced coldly at Elara. At that moment, Elara felt a physical pain—like an invisible thread tugging at her heart. This was the reaction of the Mate Bond. Even if his brain had forgotten, his soul was still in pain for hurting her, but he mistook this pain for the bad luck Elara brought.

"Come here," Kael commanded.

Elara walked over with the wine pitcher, her hands trembling. She didn't dare look up, afraid the love in her eyes would anger him.

"Pour."

She tilted the pitcher, red liquid pouring into Kael's glass. Because of her nervousness, a drop of wine splashed onto the back of Kael's hand.

"Useless trash!"

Kael stood up abruptly and knocked over the wine glass. The sound of shattering glass instantly silenced the entire hall. He grabbed Elara's wrist—the place he had gently kissed that morning—with enough force to almost crush her bones.

"You can't even do this little thing right?" He loomed over her, his eyes burning with tyrannical fire. "What use is it keeping a useless thing like you? Are you trying to poison me?"

"No... Your Majesty, I didn't..." Elara's face turned pale with pain, tears bursting from her eyes.

"Don't look at me with that look!" Kael roared. That look—that look full of sadness, tolerance, and deep affection—made him feel inexplicably irritable and panicked. His heart was beating violently, as if a voice was screaming at him to stop, but he suppressed it.

"Those are crocodile tears," Selene fanned the flames from the side. "She is trying to win your sympathy, Your Majesty. This kind of manipulative woman is the most detestable."

Kael snorted coldly and threw Elara aside like garbage. Elara fell heavily onto the glass shards covering the floor, her palm sliced open, blood staining the floor red.

"Get out," Kael turned around, no longer looking at her. "Don't let me see you again tonight. Go sleep in the stables, since you like shivering like a beast so much."

Elara clutched her bleeding hand and stumbled out of the hall amidst the ridicule of the crowd.

She didn't go to the stables. She ran back to their secret garden—the place daytime Kael liked to take her the most.

Under the moonlight, she curled up by the rose bushes, looking at the wound on her palm. He caused that.

"I forgive you, Kael," she whispered to the empty night, her voice broken. "Because tomorrow morning, you will be heartbroken over this. And I must hide the wound before then."

This was her punishment. Not being hurt, but watching the Kael who loved her sink into endless self-blame upon discovering the wounds on her body. To protect the gentle him of the day, she had to swallow all the bitter fruits of the night alone.

Chapter 3: An Unexpected Life

One afternoon a few weeks later, the sun beat down on the castle's back garden.

According to the orders left by "Night Kael," Elara had to clear all the weeds this afternoon. Although it was day now, and the one in control of the body was the Kael who loved her, Elara usually concealed these punishment tasks and completed them secretly, lest Kael go mad after discovering the truth.

"Elara?"

An old voice called out. It was the old physician Marcus, the only person in the castle who knew the truth about the curse, and Elara's only ally.

Elara straightened up and suddenly felt the world spin violently. The scene before her began to blur, the rose bushes in the garden turning into blocks of red color.

"Careful!" Marcus rushed over and caught her before she fell into the dirt.

When Elara woke up again, she was lying in a bed in the infirmary. The air was filled with the bitter smell of herbs.

"What happened to me?" she asked weakly. "Am I just too tired? I have to go back quickly; Kael is almost done with his government affairs. If he can't find me..."

"Lie down, child." Marcus held her shoulders down, his expression unusually serious, even carrying a hint of fear. "You are not just tired. Elara, I have something to tell you."

The old physician took a deep breath and lowered his voice, as if afraid the walls had ears.

"You are pregnant."

Time seemed to stand still at this moment.

Elara's eyes widened, her hand unconsciously touching her flat abdomen. "W... What?"

"It's been two weeks," Marcus said, his eyes complex. "Wolf pups have strong vitality, but the mother is too weak. You have been under immense stress and... injury." He glanced at the bruise that hadn't faded on Elara's arm.

Joy? No. What flooded Elara's heart in that instant was a fear deeper than death.

If this were a normal fairy tale, this would be the prelude to a happy ending. But in her story, this was a death sentence.

Think about it: In the eyes of daytime Kael, this was great news, the crystallization of him and his beloved. But in the eyes of nighttime Kael?

In his memory, he had never touched this lowly female slave. In this castle full of enemies, a woman he loathed and of low status suddenly became pregnant. What did that mean?

It meant betrayal. It meant she was a slut who carried someone else's bastard to defile his territory.

"Maybe I... maybe I can hide it?" Elara asked tremblingly, a hint of luck in her voice. "I'm not showing yet."

"You can't hide it, Elara." Marcus shook his head. "Don't forget what Kael is. He is the Alpha Wolf King. His sense of smell is sharper than anyone's. The scent of a pup... that is the scent of his bloodline. In a few days, the smell of 'new life' and 'milk' will radiate from you, strong as a beacon."

Elara's face turned pale.

If daytime Kael smelled it, he would be ecstatic. But if nighttime Kael smelled it...

Would he smell that it was his seed? No, the curse would twist his perception. The witch's magic would tell him that it was a "wrong" smell, an "intruder's" smell. Just as he now smelled Elara's natural scent as a stench.

He would think she carried another man's child. Even worse, he would think it was some kind of witchcraft trying to confuse his judgment.

"That witch, Selene," Elara's voice was shaking. "If she knew..."

"She would kill the child, or kill you." Marcus was blunt. "She would never allow this bond between you and Kael. A child is a variable that could break the curse, and her biggest threat."

Elara sat up abruptly, her fingers turning white from gripping the sheets.

"I must tell him," she muttered. "I must tell Kael during the day. Today. While the sun hasn't set yet."

"What are you going to do?"

"I want him to take me away," Elara's eyes gradually became firm; it was maternal instinct overpowering fear. "We have to escape here, escape that witch, escape this accursed castle. Even if we go to the ends of the earth, as long as he doesn't see me before sunset... or we find a way to lock him up."

She looked out the window. The sun had already begun to tilt westward.

"I have four hours left," Elara threw off the covers and stood up despite her dizziness. "Is he in the study now?"

"Yes, but..."

Elara didn't finish listening. She rushed out of the infirmary. This was a race against the sun. She had to let the man who loved her know this secret and make a decision before he disappeared.

What she didn't know was that fate—or rather, that vicious witch—never intended to give her this chance.

When she ran breathlessly to the door of the study, she happened to see a squad of fully armed guards rushing past. The alarm horn resounded throughout the castle.

"What happened?" she grabbed an attendant and asked.

"Border attack!" The attendant was panic-stricken. "A large group of rogue werewolves is attacking the northern defense line. It is said there are traces of dark magic. His Majesty... His Majesty has led the troops out personally."

"Led the troops?" Elara felt like the sky was collapsing. "When did he leave?"

"Just now. He rode the fastest horse; he's probably already out of the city."

Elara leaned weakly against the doorframe. Kael was gone. Daytime Kael was gone.

But when would he be back?

The battlefield was in the north. Even with the fastest march, a round trip would take several hours.

This meant that when he returned in triumph, when he stepped through the castle gates again, the sun would have already set.

Returning would no longer be the husband who would weep with joy upon learning he was to be a father. Returning would be the tyrannical, suspicious monster who saw her as a thorn in his side.

And that monster would possess a nose sharper than anyone else's. When he smelled the pregnancy scent left by "another man" (actually himself) on her, what would he do?

Elara clutched her stomach, feeling a bone-chilling cold.

Tonight would be the night of judgment.

Chapter 4: The Missed Confession

Elara stood at the door of the study, staring at the empty room, feeling as though her soul had been hollowed out.

On the desk, the battle report Kael hadn’t finished reading before he left was still spread out, his usual quill pen resting beside the inkwell. The air even retained the faint scent of pine that clung to him. Just minutes ago, he had been sitting here—the husband who loved her deeply, the man who would gently hold her on his lap.

But he was gone.

"Why today, of all days?" Elara knelt on the carpet, her fingers clutching the report tightly until the paper crumpled.

The sky outside the window was dimming bit by bit. That accursed sun was sinking inexorably toward the west, ticking down the moments to her death.

Did she still have a chance? Maybe he would come back early? Maybe the battle would end quickly?

Like a drowning woman grasping at the last straw, Elara began searching frantically around the study. She had to leave him a letter. If she couldn't tell him face to face, she would tell him on paper.

She grabbed the quill and, with trembling hands, wrote on a piece of parchment:

Kael, No matter what you see tonight, no matter what your memories tell you, please trust your heart. I am Elara. I am your mate. And... we are having a child. Don't hurt us. Please.

As she wrote the last word, a teardrop fell onto the paper with a snap, blurring the ink.

She placed the letter in the most conspicuous spot on the desk—under the dagger that symbolized his authority. It was the first thing he would see upon his return.

Just then, heavy footsteps echoed from outside the door. It wasn't Kael.

"What are you doing?"

The voice slithered into Elara's ears like a cold viper. She turned in horror to see the witch, Selene, standing in the doorway.

Selene was dressed in a magnificent black gauze gown, toying with a staff embedded with obsidian. Her face wore that trademark, nauseating smile.

"Is that a letter for His Majesty?" Selene walked in, the sound of her heels striking the floor sounding like a death knell.

"Don't touch it!" Elara lunged to protect the letter, but Selene simply flicked a finger, and an invisible force blasted Elara backward, slamming her heavily against the bookshelf.

"Ugh!" Elara curled up in pain, instinctively protecting her abdomen.

Selene picked up the letter and read it idly. "Oh my, how touching. 'We are having a child'... tsk, tsk, tsk."

The witch's eyes suddenly turned vicious. She walked to the fireplace, holding the parchment between two fingers, dangling it over the dancing flames.

"No! Please!" Elara crawled toward her desperately. "That is my life! That is Kael's life!"

"No, my dear," Selene released her fingers. "This is my game. And you are not worthy of breaking the rules."

The parchment fell into the fire, instantly curling, blackening, and turning to ash. Along with the unspoken secret, it was devoured completely.

"You..." Elara looked at the small pile of ash, her eyes filled with hatred. "You demon."

"Save your strength," Selene sneered, glancing out the window. "The sun has set. Your guardian god has fallen asleep. Now, we welcome the true King."

As if to verify her words, the sound of a horn came from the direction of the castle gates.

Kael was back.

But he was too late. The last ray of sunlight had vanished completely, and night shrouded the entire castle.

The sound of hoofbeats rang urgently in the courtyard below, followed by the clanking of armor, and that furious roar belonging to "Night Kael" that made Elara tremble all over.

"Where is the physician?! Bring me that damned physician!"

Elara froze. Physician? Marcus?

Minutes later, the study door was slammed open. Kael strode in. He was covered in blood—enemy blood—making him look like a demon fresh from hell. His eyes were that chilling cold gold, devoid of any warmth, holding only violent killing intent.

In his hand, he crunched a piece of paper. Not the letter Elara had written, but another one.

It was the diagnosis written by Marcus.

It turned out he had encountered Marcus, who was trying to escape, on his way back. The loyal old physician had attempted to bring the diagnosis to him but was intercepted by "Night Kael."

"It's you."

Kael looked at Elara huddled in the corner, his voice terrifyingly low. He held up the diagnosis, the thin paper trembling in his hand.

"You are here too," he turned to glance at Selene, then fixed his deadly stare back on Elara. "Good. You are both here. Who can tell me what this means?"

He threw the diagnosis violently into Elara's face.

"Pregnant? Two months?" Kael let out a laugh that made one's blood run cold. "This is truly amusing. In this castle, right under my nose, the lowly female slave I detest the most is actually pregnant with a bastard."

Elara tremblingly picked up the paper. It was over. Everything was over.

"Tell me," Kael approached step by step, the sound of his boots on the floor hitting Elara's heart like a heavy hammer. "Who is the adulterer? Which guard with a death wish? or some spy who snuck in? Hmm?"

He squatted down, grabbed Elara by her hair, and forced her to look at him.

"Speak!"

Elara looked into those familiar eyes, now filled only with total strangeness and hatred. How could she tell him? Tell him that the "adulterer" was himself? Tell him that the daytime memories he treasured were actually the nightmares he hated most at night?

If she told the truth at this moment, the witch's curse would backlash immediately, causing him a mental breakdown or potentially killing him outright.

"No... there is no adulterer..." Elara cried and shook her head, tears flowing into her mouth, salty as blood. "It's... it's your child, Kael. Please, it's yours."

"Mine?"

Kael looked as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world. He let go, stood up, and looked at her as if she were insane.

"Are you crazy? Or do you think I am?" He pointed at his chest. "I, Kael Blackthorn, would touch a woman like you? I would touch a slave who reeks of baseness and isn't even fit to shine my shoes?"

"It's true..." Elara looked desperately at Selene. "Tell him! Tell him the truth!"

Selene walked over gracefully, took Kael's arm, and sighed: "Your Majesty, it seems this woman's delusions are getting worse. She might be trying to use this ridiculous lie to escape punishment. Or it could be some kind of witchcraft, trying to confuse your bloodline."

"Witchcraft."

This word touched Kael's most sensitive nerve. He hated witchcraft the most (except for "allies" like Selene).

"Very well." Kael nodded, a cruel light flashing in his eyes. "Since you want to humiliate me in this way, I will let you know the consequences of betraying me."

Chapter 5: Night of Judgment

The storm arrived that night. Thunder rumbled, and lightning tore through the pitch-black sky time and again, illuminating the castle hall in a ghastly white.

Elara was held up by two guards, kneeling in the center of the hall. Servants and nobles summoned there stood around, whispering, looking at her with contempt or pity.

Kael sat on the high throne, playing with a sharp dagger. Selene sat on the auxiliary seat beside him, like a queen enjoying a play.

"According to the laws of the wolf pack," Kael's voice echoed in the hall, cold and ruthless, "adultery within the territory, especially the crime of attempting to confuse the Alpha's bloodline, should be punished with capital punishment."

He stood up, walked down the steps, and came before Elara.

"But I will give you one last chance," he lifted Elara's chin with the tip of the knife, the cold metal pressing against her skin. "Say the name of the adulterer. I can make your death quick."

Elara was trembling all over, but her hands protecting her stomach were unusually firm.

"There is no one else." She raised her head, looking at the man she had loved all her life who now wanted her life. There was no hatred in her eyes, only endless sorrow. "Only you, Kael. Whether you remember or not, whether you admit it or not. This child carries your blood."

"Shut up!"

Kael was enraged by the sorrow in her eyes. That look—that look that seemed to forgive all his sins—made him feel inexplicably panicked. A sharp pain came from the depths of his heart, as if something was desperately banging against the wall of memory.

No, that's a lie. That's the witch's trick. Kill her. Kill her and this feeling will disappear.

A voice screamed in his mind.

"Since you refuse to speak, don't blame me."

Kael raised the dagger high. Lightning flashed, illuminating his ferocious face.

"Don't!" someone in the crowd exclaimed.

Elara closed her eyes, waiting for death in despair.

However, the anticipated sharp pain did not come.

"Ugh..."

A muffled groan of pain sounded. Elara opened her eyes and was shocked to see Kael clutching his chest, the dagger dropping from his hand and hitting the ground with a crisp sound.

He staggered back, his face pale as paper, gasping for air, as if an invisible hand was squeezing