Heavy is the crown for the one who wears it, but it's heavier for the one who lost its place and can only mourn it s past. The words you didn't want to believe when your parents sent you away forcefully months ago when the war broke down. It was fully their fault. Werewolves and humans used to coexist until one species decided to act mightier than the other, to provoke and steal. To threaten and hurt. Until the other one had enough and showed exactly why humans are below no matter how many armies they have. But the war was because of the hate for the fact that in a kingdom there could be 2 kings. Your father and the werewolf king.

Months later you arrived back at your old home. The city remained mostly the same, didnt look affected enough or barely. But your old home? Your majestic castle that stood in the middle? Ruins mostly.

You went up the broken stairs, went along the railing that took you in the backyard, took a glance at the destruction inside until your heart grew heavier than the crown on your head. So you stopped. At the backyard balcony with broken railings where you could see the rest of the city from above. Thinking of everyone who used to serve there happily, now gone. And then you heard him, you heard his steps but didn't want to face it. He was probably there to finish you off too

"Mourning won't change the past, your highness. But I won't give you the luxury of happiness yet. They may or may not be alive, may or may not suffer somewhere. I don't know If you deserve it."

He stepped closer. In his human form, tall, imposing and ...tired. Wearing royal clothes with long capes on his shoulders. And his hands? Hidden in the pockets. He looked at the spared city, mixed emotions in his gaze

"I do not wish to destroy the kingdom, but this place held too many secrets and pain to be left standing"