Chapter 250

The room they had given Aire was beautiful.

She hated it.

Everything inside it looked as though someone had spent centuries trying to convince themselves that beauty alone could heal pain.

The walls shimmered faintly beneath the pale glow pouring through the towering windows. Vines covered in tiny white blossoms climbed elegantly around polished pillars without ever touching the ceiling.

A stream of crystal-clear water flowed gently through a narrow channel carved into the marble floor before disappearing beneath the opposite wall.

Even the air smelled clean, fresh, and alive.

Nothing like the Dark Fae Realm.

Aire stood before the enormous window without moving. She woke up hours ago.

Her head feels so light.

Beyond it stretched an endless kingdom suspended between silver mountains and forests that glowed beneath the afternoon light.

Bridges woven from living branches connected floating islands together while winged creatures drifted lazily through the sky.

Anyone else would have called it paradise.

To Aire, it was another prison.

Her fingers rested against the cool glass.

One day.

It had been one full day since she had fallen through the portal believing Alaric would be waiting on the other side.

One day since hope had been ripped away from her all over again.

She closed her eyes. Did they know the portal had failed? Did they think she was dead?

Her throat tightened.

Alaric had reached her once. He would find another way. He had to. She believed he must.

A soft knock echoed behind her.

She didn’t turn.

The door opened quietly, and measured footsteps entered the room before stopping several feet away.

Aire continued staring outside.

“If you’re another servant,” she said flatly, “leave.”

“I am not.” The person responded gently. Gentle enough that it should have been comforting.

It wasn’t.

Aire didn’t react.

The silence returned.

“I hoped,” he continued quietly, “that perhaps today you might allow me to introduce myself.”

Still she said nothing.

He smiled sadly. “I suppose I deserve your silence.”

Only then did Aire glance toward him.

Today he stood dressed simply in pale silver garments embroidered with faint golden leaves.

His white hair rested loosely over his shoulders.

His blue eyes hadn’t stopped looking at her since he entered.

“I am…” He inclined his head slightly. “King Asterion.” He let the name settle between them. “The ruler of the Light Fae.”

Aire looked back out the window. “I didn’t ask.”

He walked no closer.

“I came because I wished to speak to you without the court, and without prophecies and bloodlines.”

She laughed quietly. “You’ve all mentioned prophecy before you’ve mentioned my name.”

Asterion lowered his eyes.

She folded her arms across her chest. “So?”

He drew a slow breath. “I came because I wanted you to hear this from me.” His voice softened. “You are my great-granddaughter.”

The words floated gently across the room.

Aire’s expression didn’t change. Not even slightly. Instead, she watched a flock of glowing birds disappear beyond the mountains.

“Okay.” She murmured. Nothing else. There was not even an expression on her face.

Asterion studied her profile. “I imagined you would have questions.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t wish to know?”

She finally turned. Her eyes met his. They were empty. Not because she felt nothing, but because she had felt too much.

“I spent twenty years believing one story.” She took a step toward him. “Then wolves told me another.” She took another. “Then Dark Fae tried to convince me of something else.”

“And now…” She stopped only a few feet away. “you.” Her lips curved without warmth. “You all seem very interested in telling me who I am.”

She tapped a finger lightly against her own chest. Her gaze sharpened. “None of you ever asked who I became. Or who I think I am.”

He looked down briefly.

“Look at me.” Her voice remained calm.

He did not, and the silence stretched between them. Outside, the wind stirred the silver trees.

Asterion spoke again. “There are truths regarding your birth.”

“There always are.”

“I investigated them.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” She snapped at him.

“No.” He nodded. “But I did.”

He looked directly into her eyes. “The story you were given…” He hesitated. “…was never complete.”

Aire rolled her eyes. “The beginning of another fairy tale.” She turned away again. “My father betrayed his mate.”

She recited the words without emotion. “He slept with a servant, and I was born. My silver hair became everyone’s favourite punishment.”

She looked back at him, and added coldly. “Story finished.”

Asterion remained silent for several moments.

Then, finally parted his lips to speak. “The woman you know as the maid…” His voice barely rose above a whisper. “…was never meant to be a maid.”

Something flickered across Aire’s face. However, it was gone almost immediately.

“She was born into our bloodline.” Asterion continued carefully. “She was my granddaughter.”

Aire stared at him. She was trying very hard not to laugh.

He continued anyway. “She was promised to no one, and meant to live freely.” He paused briefly. “Instead…” Pain crossed his face. “…history chose cruelty.”

Aire’s jaw tightened.

“The wolf who became your father…” Asterion continued. “met not a servant. He met the woman the Moon Goddess had already refused. She was to be his mate.”

Aire frowned despite herself.

“The bond.” He nodded slowly. “Your mother was a witch, and the wolves feared it.” He met Aire’s eyes, and went on. “The Moon Goddess…” He paused. “…hated it. She hated who the bond chose. Especially when it wasn’t supposed to exist among witches.”

Aire’s breathing slowed. She hated where this was going.

“The bond should have happened. It tried to happen, but it was denied. Not by fate.” His eyes darkened. “But by divine interference.”

He took in a soft exhale. “The Moon Goddess wanted the wolf bloodline untouched with no witch, no mixing, and no exceptions.”

His voice carried centuries of quiet resentment.

“But blood does not always obey gods.” He smiled sadly. “They loved one another anyway.”

Aire’s fingers curled.

“They chose each other and because she could not control that choice…” His gaze lifted to her silver hair. “…the Moon Goddess cursed the child instead. The silver hair was never proof of shame. She knew you’d have silver hair so she brainwashed the wolves into believing silver hair was the sign of a curse.”

The room became impossibly quiet.

Aire stared at him. Her face revealed absolutely nothing. Inside, everything in her churned.

She remembered every insult, every stare, every whispered curse, every night wondering why she’d been born wrong, every tear, every rejection, every beating, and every lonely moment because of her hair.

If what he said was true…

She crushed the thought immediately. She refused to believe him. The Moon goddess would never be cruel with her powers?

She would not let herself hope again. Hope had nearly killed her yesterday. She looked at him for a very long time.

Then, very calmly, she spoke.

“Are you done?” Her voice was gentle and soft. “With your whole fabricated story?”

Asterion’s heart sank.

Aire held his gaze without blinking. “I’d like to go home now.”