The Triplet Alphas' Curse: Rejected by the Wolfless Luna.

Beatrice did not answer immediately.

Her eyes remained fixed upon the water long after the vision had dissolved.

The basin had already returned to its impossible stillness, reflecting nothing except the silver leaves hanging above it.

Yet she still saw them. Her three little boys who always ran through the palace gardens with scraped knees, fighting over wooden swords, and crying whenever they thought she wasn’t looking were now men.

They were now strong enough to command kingdoms, and powerful enough to make armies kneel.

Yet somewhere, they had looked exactly like frightened little boys again.

A tear escaped before she realized she was crying. It struck the enchanted water, and tiny circles spread across the surface.

She slowly straightened.

Her hands trembled so badly she clasped them together in front of herself.

When she finally turned, a woman stood quietly at the entrance to the courtyard.

Her golden hair flowed almost to her waist, catching the morning light until it seemed woven from sunlight itself.

Her robes were white.

Every thread shimmered faintly, embroidered with tiny vines that slowly bloomed and closed as though breathing.

Silver markings curved beneath both of her eyes.

Nothing about her inspired fear, only warmth.

Concern softened her features the moment she saw Beatrice’s face.

"Beatrice..." Her voice barely rose above the waterfalls surrounding them.

"I came to check on my sons." Beatrice replied. Her words broke before she finished them.

She pressed trembling fingers against her mouth.

"It... it was today." Her lips quivered uncontrollably. "The one day..." She sniffed weakly through her tears. "The one day His Majesty permits me to see them."

The blonde-haired fae crossed the courtyard without another word. "What happened?"

She reached Beatrice just as another tear rolled down her cheek.

"Are they..." She hesitated. "...alive?"

Beatrice nodded immediately. "They’re alive."

Relief flooded the other woman’s face.

Then Beatrice whispered. "But they aren’t alright." Her voice collapsed. "They’ve..." she swallowed painfully, "they’ve lost their mate."

The words sounded strange even to her. It felt like history was repeating itself with her boys, and it broke her heart.

"I didn’t even know..." Her grey eyes filled with tears again. "I didn’t even know they had a mate."

Her shoulders shook. "And now..." She drew in a broken breath. "now she’s gone."

Silence settled between them.

Only the waterfalls continued singing.

"They’re hurting."

Those two words shattered whatever composure she still possessed, and her teqrs spilled down her cheeks. "My boys are hurting."

She pressed both hands against her own chest. "I could feel it."

Another sob escaped her lips. "They tried so hard not to show it when I saw them but they’ve always done that, even when they were little, so I know."

She pressed her hand on her lower abdomen. "They’d scrape their knees and smile so I wouldn’t worry."

Her breathing became uneven.

"They’re doing it again. They’re pretending they’re stronger than they are."

The blonde-haired fae reached forward. Very gently, she cupped Beatrice’s face.

"Look at me."

Beatrice obeyed.

"They’re alive." The blonde haired fae told her.

Beatrice nodded, her lips quivering.

The blonde haired fae smiled, and spoke again. "They’re together."

"I know." Beatrice nodded, her tears falling off her face.

"They’re not alone." The blonde haired fae assured.

Beatrice’s tears only fell faster. "I should be there."

Her voice cracked so completely it barely resembled speech anymore. "They don’t need a queen. They need..." She couldn’t finish.

The word refused to leave her throat. She simply covered her face. They needed their mother.

The blonde-haired fae wrapped both arms around her, and hugged her with quuet comfort.

Beatrice stood there for several long moments before suddenly pulling away.

Her breathing sharpened. "I need to help them." She looked toward the palace. "I need to see His Majesty."

The blonde-haired fae hesitated. "Beatrice..."

"I need him."

"He won’t—"

"I know." She cut her off softly. She already knew. She knew before asking. Still, she was a mother first before she became a prisoner.

She took two hurried steps before her knees suddenly gave way beneath her.

She hit the crystal floor hard.

She remained there, on both knees.

Her hands clenched the polished floor until her knuckles whitened. "Please." She begged.

She looked upward, toward the palace.

"Please take me to him."

The blonde-haired fae looked heartbroken. "You know he rarely grants audiences. You know what he’ll say. You know the answer already."

Her voice finally rose. "But I’m their mother." The words echoed beneath the waterfalls. "They’re all I have. They’re all I’ve ever had. My babies are hurting, and I do not wish them to feel the same pain their father felt."

"I can’t..." Her shoulders shook violently. "I cannot stay alive knowing that."

The blonde-haired fae closed her own eyes. Then quietly, she offered her hand. "Come." She urged gently.

.....

The throne room dwarfed every chamber within the Light Fae Palace.

There were no walls, only towering waterfalls suspended between enormous pillars of crystal.

Sunlight drifted through the moving water, scattering rainbows across polished floors that reflected the heavens themselves.

At the center, and upon a throne carved entirely from living crystat, sat the Fae King. There was no crown rested upon his head.

Power surrounded him so completely that even the enchanted rivers seemed to slow in his presence.

The tiny fae lining the pillars lowered themselves onto one knee as Beatrice entered.

She barely noticed them this time.

The blonde-haired fae stopped several steps behind her.

Beatrice continued alone. Then she knelt with both knees touched the crystal floor.

She lowered her head. "My King."

Silence answered her first. The silence lasted long enough that she wondered whether he intended to dismiss her without speaking.

Finally, the King spoke. "You have used your yearly audience. You looked upon your sons."

"Yes."

"As agreed." He reminded, wordlessly letting her know that she should not think of making a wish again until the following year.

"Yes." Beatrice replied. "But..."

The fae King gently cut her off. "You were permitted something no other prisoner has ever received."

Her fingers tightened.

"You have been shown generosity beyond obligation. You should leave."

She remained kneeling. She refused to leave.

The King regarded her for another long moment.

"Why are you here?" He decided to ask.

Beatrice finally lifted her head. Tears still clung to her lashes. "They’re suffering. They’ve lost someone."

"I know."

Her breath caught. "You... know?"

"I know everything seen in the enchanted water."

Hope returned so suddenly in her chest. "Then..." She crawled forward one pace before stopping herself. "My King..."

She bowed until her forehead nearly touched the floor. "I am not asking for freedom. I’m not asking to return. I’m only asking..."

Her voice broke again. "To see how I can be able to help them. They don’t deserve this."

They had already lost her.

The King watched her quietly, expressionless.

"You remain a prisoner, Beatrice." He reminded her. "I permitted you to see your sons once each year. I permitted you to keep their memory, and you hope."

He leaned back against his throne.

"Do not think I’m in good terms with the werewolves just because I am not cruel to you as a prisoner." His gaze settled upon her. "The greatness of a light fae power lies in the pureness of their heart."

The throne room became utterly silent.

Beatrice lowered her head once more. "I understand."

Even as she spoke the words, she prayed he would ignore them.

The King regarded her for several more moments. Then he finally said. "You will return to your chambers."

He paused, stared at her for a moment, and went on. "If..." He paused again. "I decide this matter requires your presence..."

His voice echoed gently through the waterfalls. "I will send for you."

Beatrice closed her eyes in hope. She bit her lower lip desperately. "Thank you_"

"Don’t thank me yet." He refused her. "Now, leave."

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