Flustered and disoriented in my pale medieval gown, I was called to the grand candlelit Gothic throne hall as a silver-gray courtier in a formal tailcoat — wearing a wolf-head lapel pin — reported all targeted fugitives were nearly rounded up. The sharp, dark-haired royal king dropped a bombshell: the child I was hired to tutor is no human at all. It’s the soft white wolf pup with striking ice-blue eyes, already nuzzling my outstretched hand. This cursed royal heir is waiting for me to break his curse, and our fated bond is only just beginning.
