Standing by the door were Zygons—morphed with haunting precision into the familiar faces of her parents.
Even a great master of disguise couldn’t have done as good a job as the Zygon’s shapeshifting ability. The illusion was flawless, terrifyingly accurate. Their posture, the tilt of their heads, even the subtle way her mother always tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—it was all there. Everything looked so perfectly real that it made her chest ache.
The door creaked as it was pushed open, and Harriet instantly sprang to her feet, vivid happiness breaking across her face like sunrise. It was the kind of joy she hadn’t even shown when she’d reunited with her siblings earlier. This joy was something deeper, more primal—something that came from a hope she thought had long since been buried.
Her mother stood before her, and beside her—her father. He was upright, standing entirely on his own. It took Harriet a moment to process the sight. Her father, once a man so weakened he could hardly lift a spoon, was standing by himself.
Harriet turned, heart soaring, instinctively moving toward them, her arms already half-raised for an embrace—but then she froze.
A confused expression flickered across her face.
Something was... off.
The warmth she expected to see in her parents’ faces wasn’t there. Instead, their expressions were void of any emotion—cold and indifferent, like strangers wearing masks. Their eyes locked onto hers, unblinking and eerily still, as if studying her rather than greeting her.
When they stepped forward, Harriet didn’t feel relief. She felt dread. The kind that crept up your spine like cold fingers.
"Mother!" she finally blurted, desperate to shatter the strange tension.
But whatever words she’d meant to say caught in her throat the instant her gaze fully settled on her mother’s eyes. Those eyes—she didn’t recognize them. There was no love in them. No familiarity. Just... void.
She turned her head, meaning to speak to her father next—but before she could, the sound of the door being ripped off its hinges filled the air, thunderous and shocking.
King Jared stood there.
His gaze locked directly on her with sharp intensity. His jaw was set, his voice a growl as he bellowed two words.
The force behind his voice shook her to her core.
For an instant, Harriet couldn’t move. Her body disobeyed her. Her feet were frozen to the floor as her mind tried to catch up to what was happening. King Jared hadn’t just spoken—he had roared. Like a command sent straight through the air, bypassing logic and going straight to instinct.
It wasn’t until her sister’s voice rang out from behind her that she jolted back into motion.
"Leave!" her sister snapped, clearly irritated. Her arms were crossed, her expression pinched with disapproval, even as Danny—Harriet’s younger brother—clung stubbornly to her legs like a vine refusing to let go.
"You’re not staying the night? Or at least a week?" Marianna asked, her voice laced with pleading. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
Harriet barely had a moment to absorb the words when Danny began to cry.
"Don’t leave! You just got here!" he whimpered, his voice cracking with desperation.
That voice—it shattered something in Harriet. No matter how strange or tense the atmosphere felt... this was her family. No matter how odd they were acting, these were the people she had grown up loving. These were the faces that had raised her.
Her parents were probably just upset at her, she reasoned, searching for logic through the fog of confusion. That must be why they looked at her that way. She bit her lip, bending down to ruffle Danny’s hair, wishing she could offer him more comfort than that small gesture.
She wanted to stay. God, she wanted to stay.
But it was impossible.
Especially now—with King Jared breathing down her neck, radiating tension like a storm cloud ready to explode.
"I’m sorry," she whispered, the words nearly lost under her breath. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed. She looked at her siblings with pleading eyes, hoping they’d understand that this wasn’t her choice.
Before she could say more—before she could offer even a scrap of comfort—Jared’s voice snapped again. Louder. Sharper. Like a whip cracking through the air.
His words carved through her final strand of composure.
Harriet clenched her jaw, trying not to let the enormity of her anger show on her face—but it was impossible to hide completely. Her eyes burned with fury, and her lips twitched in frustration. She was beyond pissed. Furious at the way Jared was treating her. Even more furious that he’d invited himself here in the first place.
She hadn’t wanted him to come. Now here he was, commanding her like a guard dragging a prisoner.
Still, she forced herself to remain composed. She grit her teeth and moved, arms stiff as she hugged her family—one after the other. She lingered at her mother. She clung to her father the longest, marveling at the strength he seemed to have recovered. His face was pale, but solid. His grip was real.
And as soon as it became clear she was leaving, those previously blank faces changed.
The non-existent smiles returned—only now they seemed brighter than ever. Too bright. Her mother even spoke.
"We were angry that you only came just now and yet you’re already leaving," she said with a sigh, her face twisting into a wry expression.
Harriet mirrored it unconsciously, her feet moving backward toward the door.
She stood there for one last moment, lifting her hand in a hesitant wave—only for her arm to be grabbed roughly.
The grip was merciless. Jared didn’t even look at her as he dragged her forward.
Harriet’s calm snapped.
"Your Highness!" she shouted, trying to maintain some semblance of propriety despite the fire flaring in her chest.
But she received no reply. No explanation. Nothing.
Jared didn’t stop. His hand remained tight around her wrist, dragging her with strength too great to resist. Harriet struggled instinctively, but it was no use.
Within seconds, they reached the carriage.
She was shoved inside.
Jared jumped in after her, his energy electric and volatile.
"Drive!" he barked to the driver.
The driver, calm and unfazed, answered in the familiar voice that Harriet recognized from palace halls.
"Yes, Your Highness," he said, already moving the horses. The carriage jolted into motion, wheels clattering violently against the dirt path.
The sounds of the horses’ hooves and the rattling of the carriage were the only things filling the silence.
Harriet sat stiffly, breathing through her nose. She was doing everything she could to keep her emotions in check. Her fingers curled tightly into her lap, her jaw clenched.
Finally, she broke the silence. "Is there a—" she began, hoping to at least get an explanation.
But Jared lifted his hand before she could even finish.
His expression had changed. His eyes were scanning the surroundings, then narrowing, then flicking toward her with growing intensity.
The farther they moved from the village, the more his instincts screamed at him. The scent—something wrong. The faint trace of blood he had smelled back in the house hadn’t faded with distance.
It had grown stronger.
In one fluid motion, his hand morphed—his fingers elongating into sharp claws.
Before Harriet could process what was happening, his clawed hand gripped her head—firmly, almost violently—sending a surge of fear through her body.
She couldn’t breathe. The pressure made her dizzy, the blood rushing away from her brain.
"What are you?" Jared barked, his voice low and guttural.
Harriet had never felt more confused—or more wronged—in her life.
She opened her mouth, but no words came.
Because she couldn’t speak.
Because she didn’t know the answer.
Her face turned red and blue even as she clawed and scratched at Jared’s hold on her neck which she knew that without the help of an higher power there was no way she could force him to remove it.
It hurt and the pain only seemed to get worse as tears pooled in her eyes as she fixed her gaze on him but he didn’t so much as seem brothers as he leveled his gaze on her.
Just when she was convinced that she was going to die she suddenly felt him let go even as she choked and coughed like her lungs were on fire since they actually were.
At this point she didn’t even care as sh opened her mouth and screamed not caring that he was a king and shw was nothing but a commoner.
"Are you mad!" She gasped out aware that it was the only possible explanation for whatever seemed to be happening.
But the words had barely been out of her mouth when she cooted away from him like she had been burned especially when his gaze on her only seemed to heighten more than before.
His eyes were light brown but there was something monstrous about it.