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

The moment the little girl buried herself against Fitzgerald’s shoulder, the entire courtyard seemed to breathe easier.

It was as though every noble present had been waiting for that single moment.

The King had returned, and the Princess had reached him. England was whole again.

Only one person remained untouched by the reunion.

Mabel.

She stood where Fitzgerald had left her, her emerald eyes moving silently between the child in his arms, the pregnant queen, and the sleeping little boy now reaching tiny hands toward his father repeatedly.

For the first time since stepping into the Human Realm, she had not expected something, or even imagined this coming.

She had expected greed. She had expected politics. She had expected betrayal. She had not expected... this.

Fitzgerald looked nothing like the man who had spent weeks speaking to her so calmly and with all adoration in the Wolf Realm.

His features softened as the little girl wrapped both arms around his neck. Now, the toddler babbled happily against his shoulder.

The pregnant woman smiled at him with quiet affection.

It almost looked domestic. The sight settled heavily inside Mabel’s chest. Everything unexpectedly confused her.

She had travelled across realms believing she understood the man before her. Now she wasn’t certain she understood anything at all.

The little girl finally noticed her.

She leaned away from Fitzgerald, blinking curiously before pointing directly at Mabel.

"Daddy..."

Every eye followed her tiny finger.

"Who’s she?"

Silence settled over the courtyard.

Fitzgerald lowered his daughter carefully onto the ground before finally turning toward Mabel.

For one fleeting second, something unreadable crossed his face. It disappeared too quickly to study.

He walked back toward her.

The nobles remained kneeling, and the servants remained perfectly still.

"My lady," Fitzgerald said softly.

Mabel looked at him, then she looked past him and toward the woman carrying his child.

The queen’s smile hadn’t disappeared. She simply watched them quietly.

Mabel’s voice remained calm. "Who..." She tilted her head slightly. "is she?"

Fitzgerald followed her gaze. "My wife."

The answer arrived without hesitation, apology, or shame. Mabel simply nodded once.

Fitzgerald studied her eyes for a second. He knew enough about Mabel by now to understand one simple truth.

Silence from her was never empty.

The queen finally stepped forward, and she curtsied gracefully. "My lord..." Her eyes settled warmly upon Mabel. "...you never mentioned we would be welcoming a guest."

Her voice carried remarkable gentleness with no forced politeness, or jealousy. Her voice simply carried kindness.

"My name is Charlotte." She smiled. "You are welcome in England."

Mabel studied her for several seconds, and said nothing back to her. She flatly ignored her.

Charlotte waited patiently. She blinked once before smiling again when Mabel said nothing to her.

"You must be exhausted after such a journey."

"I am not."

Charlotte laughed softly. "I suppose I would be."

Fitzgerald rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Charlotte." His tone was clipped. Nothing like Mabel have ever heard.

She looked toward him.

"I’ll introduce everyone properly later."

She nodded obediently. "As you wish."

The maid carrying the little prince stepped closer. The sleepy child reached tiny hands toward Fitzgerald again.

"Dada..."

Fitzgerald took him instinctively.

Charlotte smiled at the sight.

Mabel noticed everything. How the queen loved him, and how children adored him. The servants watched him carefully.

Yet, she also noticed something else. Fitzgerald never once looked at Charlotte. Not properly, and mostly not the way she looked at him. Not even when she spoke.

His attention remained entirely on the children. The realization lodged quietly inside her mind.

"Shall we?" Fitzgerald finally asked, facing her.

Mabel nodded.

Without another word, they began walking deeper into the palace, abandoning the kids with Charlotte and the servants.

...

England’s royal palace was unlike any structure Mabel had imagined.

The corridors stretched endlessly beneath painted ceilings depicting wars, saints and kings whose names had long since become legends.

Massive colourful windows allowed pale afternoon sunlight to spill across polished marble floors.

Every few steps another balck servant appeared. They all bowed softly, and disappeared again.

They barely seemed human. They were all invisible, efficient, and were treated as replaceable.

Fitzgerald walked beside Mabel with practiced ease. "The eastern wing houses the court." He said, gesturing ahead. "The western wing belongs to the royal family."

She listened without comment.

"The chapel lies beyond those gardens." He pointed toward towering stained-glass windows. "The treasury beneath us."

He took another turn, and she followed.

"The council chambers there."

She continued walking, and her expression never changed.

"You aren’t asking questions." He told her softly.

Mabel staredbstraight ahead. Her lips were thin. "I don’t need to."

"You’ve always asked questions."

"I already know enough."

The answer unsettled him. They reached another corridor where portraits lined both walls.

Generations of monarchs watched silently as they passed. Some wore crowns larger than their heads, and others carried swords.

Several queens appeared with babies in their arms.

Mabel stopped before one painting.

It was the painting of a queen surrounded by six children.

"Humans breed often." She commented, her eyes expressionless.

Fitzgerald laughed. "Compared to wolves?"

She looked toward him. "If you’re asking this, then you barely paid any attention in my Realm."

Fitzgerald swallowed, and nodded.

They resumed walking.

Outside, bells rang across London, and the sound drifted gently through open windows.

Fitzgerald glanced toward her. "What do you think of England?"

"It smells." She kept her answer short, not in the mood to speak. She even hated the walk with him.

He chuckled. "I meant the kingdom."

She turned to him with a glare. "I already answered."

He couldn’t argue with that.

When they got to the gardens, the gardens surprised her. Flowers grew in perfect rows, and fountains danced beneath marble statues.

Peacocks wandered freely across trimmed grass.

It was beautiful, yet still looked artificial. Since her arrival, she finally would be able to point out to something meaningful here.

Every flower existed because someone had ordered it planted, and every hedge had been forced into shape.

Nature here looked disciplined.

Mabel almost pitied it.

Fitzgerald slowed. "This is where Eleanor spends most of her mornings."

"Eleanor?"

"Our eldest."

Mabel straed at the garden. Shebstared down at her gloves briefly, and straightened her neck again. "The loud one."

He smiled. "Yes."

They walked farther away. Mabel nodded, and her eyes turned calculating. If she came to this Realm to accommodate some heirs and another woman, then this must be the greatest joke of the century.

"The boys prefer the training yard." He went on.

She said nothing. Rather, she stopped walking, and the silence stretched. Fitzgerald immediately stopped, and raised a brow at her.

His expression remained patient, and waiting.

"You have a family." She said calmly.

Fitzgerald turned away from her immediately. For several long moments, he simply looked ahead.

He sighed. "I have heirs." He murmured instead.

She walked toward him. "That wasn’t my question."

His voice lowered. "It wasn’t." He folded both hands behind his back, and turned to her calmly. "I have children." He paused lightly. "I do not have a family."

Mabel watched him carefully. "You hate her."

"Hate requires emotion."

"What do you feel for her?"

"Nothing." His answer came so quickly it almost sounded rehearsed. "It was arranged."

He continued walking. "Our marriage." He exhaled. "I’ve fulfilled every duty expected of me."

"I’ve given England heirs."

Mabel started walking behind him.

"Those are different things."

Mabel considered that quietly. "So..." She asked. "Where does your wife sleep?"

"The Queen’s chambers." He answered without embarrassment.

"And you?"

"The King’s."

"They’re separate?"

"They always have been."

She looked at him again. "You don’t share a bed."

His answer remained simple. "I arranged new chambers before we married."

She frowned. "For what purpose?"

He chuckled, and shrugged his shoulders. "So neither of us would have to pretend."

Mabel’s footsteps stopped. She stared at him from his back. "And me?"

His gaze finally met hers. "You’ll stay with me." His eyes softened. "I’ve already had your chambers prepared."

Her face hardened instantly. "No."

His brows lifted, suprised. "No?"

"You arranged that without asking me. You did not even think about telling me you have a wife. And some loud kids."

He blinked taken aback. He realized something was wrong.

"Mabel."

She didn’t answer. She simply walked past him.

He caught up quickly. "I needed you to be with me," he began quickly. "At first, I needed you for the war but right now, I adore you. What I feel for you has gone beyond the war."

Mabek said nothing. She simply continued walking like no one had spoken behind her.

"Mabel." He called behind her. "You’re angry."

She stopped beside another fountain. The water reflected both of them.

"I crossed realms." She spoke quietly "I left everything behind." Her eyes remained fixed upon the water. "And once again..." She looked at him. "You did not think you’d mention your family to me? Why didn’t you even do that in that ship?"

Fitzgerald’s expression changed to understanding.

"I didn’t think—"

"I know." She cut him off. Her voice remained calm. "That’s precisely the problem. You seem not to think."

He opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again. After a little thought, he parted his lips again.

"What do you want?" He asked, with all seriousness.

Mabel remained silent. She watched him with cold eyes.

He stepped closer. "What do you want?"

She still didn’t answer.

"I’ll give it." He held her forearm softly. "Mabel." His voice softened beyond reasoning. He rested his forehead on her. "Tell me, and I’ll place it at your feet."

Only then did she smile. Her smile wasn’t warm, or calm. It sent an unfamiliar chill through Fitzgerald’s spine, but he held her.

"You’ll place anything at my feet?" She asked, crossing her arms on her chest.

Fitzgerald pulled her closer to him. "Yes." He assured, his breath fanning her face intensly.

"Are you certain?" She asked him, taking her arms off her chest, and placing her hands on his shoulder blades, holding him.

"I am."

She studied him for a long moment. "So be it." She finally said. Shutting her eyes, she planted a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling away, she stared deeply into his eyes. "So remember this day."

His brows knitted.

"Because..." Her smile widened ever so slightly. "when the time comes..." She looked down at his lips, and into his eyes. "I’ll remind you of your promise."

For reasons he couldn’t explain, a cold shiver travelled slowly down Fitzgerald’s spine, but he brushed it off, and pulled her in for a kiss again.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!