Ethan had very little knowledge about his mother. If it weren’t for Alexander, his father, he might have thought he was a creation of the Moon Goddess placed directly into the human world.
His father never uttered a word about his mother, as if it were a taboo subject, much like sealed-off magic.
But if it was forbidden, how did he come into existence?
Ethan tried to find answers for himself. He attempted to develop his own power, secretly gathered an army, and trained many informants. However, all those informants never brought the information he sought, and the years of searching only resulted in endless disappointment.
Ethan didn’t understand the source of his own persistence. He hadn’t even seen that woman! She had never been with him, never been there to help him through the long, frightening nights, teaching him how to hunt, how to control the desires of wild beasts, how to overcome the instinct for blood. She had never been there to tell him she loved him.
The bond between a mother and a child had never appeared in him. Did children naturally yearn for their mothers’ love? Did mothers naturally love their own children? He knew nothing.
Alex had ruined everything. He hated him but was helpless. He longed to take that throne, to use power to soothe a life that had never understood, let alone received happiness. That was the only thing he could do.
So he could only lie in wait, like a quiet cicada, until his own time came. He would bow down under Alex’s authority. But this day wouldn’t make him wait for too long. He would kill Aldrich Barret, Maggie, and the two cubs who shared Barret’s bloodline. He would win the final victory. No love, no father, no mother – what did it all matter? He had the throne.
But he really wanted to see her again. Even if she were no longer the woman in the static photos, even if she had aged and lost her beauty, he longed to see her again. He wanted to hear her call him “Ethan,” to ask where she had been all these years, if she was doing well, if she ever thought of him, even just a little.
But these words felt too weak. If Alex heard them, he’d probably respond with a kick.
However, the person in front of him was not Alex. Shouldn’t it be okay to share a little with her?
“My father, Alex, never says a word about my mother. He’s locked her away in his own memory, not allowing me to touch a bit of it.” Ethan suddenly opened up, “I don’t know how he views me or my mother, but I have the feeling that he doesn’t love my mother. He respects her, commemorates her, but at the same time, he fears her.”
Grace lay on the damp soil, her eyes as moist as the earth, quietly watching Ethan. “How could he? The way you describe her, she sounds so beautiful, almost like a goddess. How could Alex fear her?”
“You don’t understand Alex; he’s violent, with an unpredictable temperament, and yet, he’s also weak. When I was still a young werewolf cub, I saw him sitting alone on the floor of a room. He was completely lost in his own world, unable to connect with the outside. In that moment, I could feel the fear that consumed him from within.”
He couldn’t remember if Alex had ever hugged him, but he remembered Alex’s loneliness and timidity. Perhaps that timidity had also been passed down through their genes. He had more choices, not confined by anyone, yet he stayed in that magnificent yet meaningless palace.
Desiring too much sometimes leads to having nothing at all. He understood this truth, but he couldn’t let go of titles like “prince” and his mother. He couldn’t become an ordinary commoner; he didn’t want to miss the chance of his mother’s return.
“I’m a coward,” he admitted, lowering his head with self-mockery. “Don’t blame you for hating me. I hate myself, too.”
Grace gazed at him with indifference for a moment and decided to explain herself. “I don’t hate you because you’re weak. Humans, animals, and even gods can be weak at times. I dislike you because you act as if you’re above everyone else. You treat the world as your chessboard and people as your pawns.”
“I don’t hate you for the weakness you think I have. I hate you because I can’t feel your emotions.”
Ethan’s hand, which had been stroking Grace’s, paused. It wasn’t until the wind tousled his bangs that he seemed to wake from a dream. “My little wolf, you sure have a way with words. I hope when I bring you before the elders, you can speak just as persuasively.”
Finally, they arrived at the inevitable point of disagreement.
Grace closed her eyes. “Is taking power from Aldrich so important to you?”
“Don’t you want to be the ruler of the entire world?”
“If it brings unhappiness to my people, I wouldn’t want to be that ruler.”
“I will bring them new hope.”
“On what grounds? Through war?” Grace’s tone carried a hint of sarcasm.
Ethan hesitated. “I will… make the werewolves the rulers of this world.”
“Hmm,” Grace responded noncommittally.
“Seems like you’re quite contemptuous of this idea.”
“I just think that if you want to be a ruler, you’re not qualified. You don’t understand the thoughts of your people, and you’re not initiating this war for the greater good. It’s driven by personal desires. You’re trying to stir up conflict, making it seem like you have the absolute advantage in the dispute, making the masses adore you and submit to you. But what the people want isn’t power or territorial expansion. They want a peaceful life, consistent warmth and sustenance. They don’t want to be displaced and lead aimless lives. Can you provide that for them?”
“Are you thinking about your own suffering, or do you genuinely want to be a competent leader? Werewolves seek an excellent leader through elections who prioritizes the interests of the community, even if bloodlines can’t entirely replace the character of a leader who prioritizes the greater good. You have a sufficient bloodline, but in terms of the bigger picture, perhaps you still need to cultivate.”
Grace hadn’t imagined that she would become Prince Ethan’s mentor one day. Since she gained continuous memories, she had been educated to prioritize the bigger picture.
What is the bigger picture?
For Aldrich, the election was the bigger picture, as was reform, and the future of his community.
For her, in addition to the future of her own community, the entire future of the werewolves was her bigger picture.
She wanted to establish an equal world, where the weak were not bullied, the strong were not targeted, and where they didn’t look down upon other races or be isolated by them in the werewolf world.
In that world, vampires could control their insatiable thirst for blood, werewolves wouldn’t be influenced by the moon’s power, witches’ magic and potions would be used more for healing than for attack and curses. They wouldn’t arrogantly dismiss the human world but seek a more humble way of peaceful coexistence.
This was her own political blueprint, an ideal that she had never shared in detail with anyone.
But today, for some inexplicable reason, she had talked so much with Ethan. She thought her mind might have been clouded due to the infection of her wounds.