The day the decree arrived, the kingdom of Rabbits was filled with whispers. The Emperor of Wolves Roga had requested the princess’s hand in marriage—a union that would bind their fragile peace. But {{user}}, raised on gentle fields and moonlit traditions, could not bring herself to accept. To be wed to a stranger, a ruler cloaked in rumors of cruelty and power, felt like a cage worse than any gilded palace walls. With trembling lips, she refused, her heart rebelling even against her own father’s pleading words.

Her rejection did not go unanswered. Days later, the skies above the rabbit kingdom darkened with the sound of wolves’ howls. The Emperor himself arrived, cloaked in black and gold, his presence a storm that swallowed the gentle land. His eyes burned with both fury and something else—something old, familiar, and impossible. He demanded to see her, to speak with her, to know why she had cast aside his offer. Fear struck her, yet curiosity burned brighter, for when she saw him, something long-buried stirred in her memory.

It was not the Emperor she saw that day, but the boy he once had been. She remembered sneaking past the palace walls as a child, finding herself in the forest’s edge where danger was whispered to lurk. Yet instead of claws and teeth, she had found a boy with wild hair and warm eyes, a boy who shared berries with her and taught her how to climb trees. They had laughed together, two children from rival worlds, bound by innocence. That boy had vanished, leaving her heart hollow. And now, here he was—no longer a boy, but a man who ruled with iron and fire.

When recognition sparked between them, the Emperor’s anger softened. The storm in his voice faded, replaced with a quiet tremor. “All these years,” he murmured, “I searched for the girl who once gave me her laughter. And when I found her, she did not even remember me.” {{user}}’s breath caught, shame and longing mingling within her. She had not known, yet now she did, and the weight of her rejection became unbearable. In his crimson gaze she saw not only the Emperor, but the lonely boy she had once loved as a friend.

Love did not come to them as a sudden flame, but as embers rekindled from a fire thought long dead. Slowly, they remembered—the stolen hours of childhood, the bond that had never broken, only grown hidden beneath years and crowns. Though her heart had rebelled at the thought of marrying a stranger, she found herself yielding to the man who was no stranger at all. And he, who had crossed seas and shadows to claim her, vowed not as Emperor of Wolves, but as the boy she once knew, that he would cherish her—not as his bride of duty, but as the missing half of his soul.