The morning after the blood covenant brought a transformation I hadn't expected. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a woman I barely recognized—the same silver hair and purple eyes, but now they held a power that seemed to emanate from within. The crescent birthmark on my chest had changed too, no longer just pulsing with silver light but glowing steadily, like a permanent reminder of what I'd become.
"The bond suits you," Damien said from the doorway, his golden eyes taking in my reflection with approval. "You look... regal."
I turned to face him, and the connection between us hummed like a live wire. Through our new bond, I could feel his emotions—still guarded, still wary, but touched with something that might have been hope.
"I feel different," I admitted. "Stronger. More... aware."
"That's the covenant bond settling. You now have access to a fraction of my power, and I to yours." He moved closer, and I felt the magnetic pull between us intensify. "But power without knowledge is dangerous. Which is why we need to discuss what happens next."
Before I could respond, Elena burst through the door, her usually composed demeanor shattered by panic.
"My lady," she gasped, barely remembering to curtsy, "there are carriages approaching the main gate. Lord Sterling's crest, along with several other noble houses. And they're flying diplomatic flags."
My blood turned to ice. "How many?"
"At least a dozen, my lady. It looks like half the seven kingdoms have come calling."
Damien's expression darkened. "Victor's moving faster than I anticipated. He's calling in favors, forcing a political confrontation when he couldn't achieve a magical one."
Through the window, I could see the impressive procession making its way up the mountain road. This wasn't the projection magic from yesterday—this was real, substantial, and designed to intimidate.
"What does he want?" I asked, though I suspected I already knew.
"To test you. To see if the blood covenant has made you stronger or if you're still the broken girl he discarded." Damien's smile was sharp as a blade. "He's about to get his answer."
An hour later, I stood in the castle's grand reception hall, dressed in a gown that cost more than most nobles saw in a year. The midnight blue silk was embroidered with silver thread that caught the light like captured starlight, and the Shadow Queen's crown—Damien's gift to seal our new status—rested on my brow like it had been made for me.
The diplomatic party filed in with all the pomp and ceremony they could muster. Lords and ladies from across the seven kingdoms, their faces carefully neutral but their eyes burning with curiosity. And at their head, looking every inch the grieving former fiancé, was Victor Sterling.
He'd dressed for the part—muted colors that suggested sorrow, his golden hair slightly disheveled as if he'd been running his hands through it in anguish. When his blue eyes met mine across the hall, I saw the flash of calculation beneath the carefully crafted mask of remorse.
"Seraphina," he said, his voice carrying perfectly across the silent room. "My dearest love. I've come to make amends."
The audacity of it nearly stole my breath. After everything he'd done, after the public humiliation and the years of manipulation, he was going to play the repentant lover?
"Lord Sterling," I replied, my voice cool as winter frost. "How unexpected. I was under the impression that you had no further interest in damaged goods."
A murmur rippled through the assembled nobles. This was exactly the kind of drama they'd come hoping to witness.
Victor stepped forward, his expression the perfect picture of tortured regret. "I was a fool. Blinded by politics and family pressure. The moment I lost you, I realized what a terrible mistake I'd made."
"Indeed?" I remained seated on the Shadow Queen's throne, looking down at him with the kind of regal disdain I'd learned from watching Damien. "And what exactly did you realize?"
"That bloodlines don't matter. That power doesn't matter. That all that matters is love." He dropped to one knee with theatrical precision, and I heard several of the noble ladies sigh appreciatively. "I've come to beg your forgiveness, to ask for another chance to prove my devotion."
The performance was flawless. If I hadn't known what a calculating bastard he truly was, I might have been moved by the apparent sincerity in his voice.
But I did know. And through the bond, I could feel Damien's amusement at Victor's desperate gambit.
"How romantic," I said, letting just enough mockery color my tone to make it clear what I thought of his performance. "Tell me, Victor, when exactly did this miraculous change of heart occur? Was it before or after you discovered I'd married the future Alpha King?"
His composure cracked for just an instant—a flash of rage quickly covered by renewed sorrow. "I deserved that. I know I hurt you, and I know I have no right to ask for forgiveness. But Seraphina, please—"
"Lady Seraphina," I corrected sharply. "Or better yet, Your Majesty. I find I rather like the sound of that."
The correction hit its mark. Victor's jaw tightened, and I saw several of the nobles exchange meaningful glances. In their world, titles mattered, and I'd just reminded everyone present that I now outranked every person in this room except Damien.
"Your Majesty," Victor continued, his voice strained but determined. "I know I don't deserve your mercy, but I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to earn it. Name your price, and I'll pay it."
"My price?" I stood, letting the full weight of my new power ripple through the room. The silver embroidery on my gown began to glow, and my birthmark pulsed in response. "You want to make amends for years of manipulation, for public humiliation, for treating me like a pawn in your political games?"
"Yes," he breathed, and for a moment, I almost believed he meant it.
"Then here's my price," I said, my voice carrying to every corner of the hall. "The truth. All of it. Starting with why you really had me investigated, why you waited until my coming-of-age ceremony to destroy me, and what you hoped to gain by driving me into exile."
The silence that followed was deafening. Victor's carefully crafted mask finally slipped, revealing the cold calculation beneath.
"I don't know what you're implying—"
"Don't you?" I stepped closer, and he actually took a step back. "Because I've been doing some investigation of my own since our last conversation. Amazing what doors open when you wear a crown."
It wasn't entirely true—not yet—but the bluff hit its mark. Victor's face went pale, and I saw panic flicker in his blue eyes.
"Through my new resources," I continued, enjoying the way he flinched at each word, "I've learned some fascinating things about the Sterling family's recent activities. Business partnerships with rather unsavory characters. Financial investments in territories that shouldn't exist on any official map. And most interesting of all, communications with certain parties regarding the whereabouts of the lost Blackthorne heirs."
The last part was pure speculation based on the visions from the blood covenant, but Victor's reaction told me I'd hit close to the mark.
"You're mistaken," he said, but his voice lacked conviction. "I would never—"
"Never what? Never conspire to eliminate inconvenient bloodlines? Never orchestrate the downfall of the woman you claimed to love?" I was close enough now to see the sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air in the hall. "Tell me, Victor, what did you think would happen when you drove me into the forest? Did you expect me to simply disappear quietly, or were you hoping for something more... permanent?"
"This is ridiculous," Victor blustered, but I could see him calculating escape routes. "I came here to apologize, to try to rebuild what we once had—"
"What we once had," I interrupted, my voice sharp as steel, "was built on lies. You never loved me, Victor. You loved what I represented—access to the Blackthorne fortune, a step up the political ladder, legitimacy for your bastard bloodline."
The insult about his heritage was a deliberate provocation, and it worked. His mask of remorse finally shattered completely, revealing the cold fury beneath.
"At least I'm not some half-breed pretender playing dress-up in a castle that doesn't belong to her," he snarled, all pretense of love forgotten. "You think marrying the Shadow King makes you powerful? You're still the same worthless orphan I found crying in the mud."
The words were meant to wound, but instead, they filled me with a cold satisfaction. Now everyone in the room could see Victor Sterling's true face.
"Perhaps," I said conversationally, "but this worthless orphan now commands resources you can't even imagine. This worthless orphan has allies you'll never gain and power you'll never understand. And most importantly..."
I let my power flare, silver fire dancing around me like liquid starlight. Several of the visiting nobles gasped and stepped back, but I kept my eyes fixed on Victor's face.
"This worthless orphan is done being your victim."
Victor's composure cracked completely. "You have no idea what you're meddling with," he hissed. "There are forces at work here bigger than your petty revenge fantasies. You think you've won something by marrying that cursed monster? You've just signed your own death warrant."
"Is that a threat, Lord Sterling?" Damien's voice cut through the tension like a blade of ice. He hadn't moved from his position at the side of the room, but his power filled the space between us and Victor like a living thing.
Victor turned to face the Shadow King, and I saw him actually tremble. "Lord Nightfall. I meant no disrespect—"
"Didn't you?" Damien moved forward with that predatory grace, and Victor stumbled backward. "Because it sounded very much like you were threatening my wife. And I take such threats quite personally."
The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. Frost began forming on the windows, and I could see the visiting nobles pulling their cloaks tighter around themselves.
"This was a diplomatic visit—" Victor began desperately.
"Was it?" Damien's smile was terrifying. "Because it seems to me like you came here under false pretenses, disrupted my household, and insulted my queen. In the old days, such behavior would have earned you a rather permanent solution to your existence."
"You can't touch me," Victor said, but his voice shook. "I'm here under diplomatic immunity, representing legitimate noble houses—"
"Are you?" I stepped between them, enjoying the way Victor's eyes darted nervously between me and Damien. "Because I've been wondering exactly which houses would send representatives to witness your little performance. Lord Castlemaine, for instance."
I turned to address one of the visiting nobles directly. "Did Lord Sterling inform you that this was a romantic reconciliation attempt? Or did he tell you it was a legitimate diplomatic mission?"
Lord Castlemaine, a sharp-eyed man in his fifties, looked decidedly uncomfortable. "We were told... that is, Lord Sterling suggested that there were important political matters to discuss regarding the new alliance between Nightfall and... former Blackthorne territories."
"I see. And did he mention that he was planning to interrupt our honeymoon to declare his undying love for my wife?" Damien's tone was conversational, but the threat beneath it was unmistakable.
The visiting nobles began exchanging alarmed glances. They'd been used, and they knew it. Worse, they'd been made to look foolish in front of the most powerful werewolf in existence.
"Perhaps," Lord Castlemaine said carefully, "it would be best if we withdrew to allow you to... discuss these matters privately."
"An excellent suggestion," I agreed. "Though before you go, you might be interested to know that we'll be conducting our own investigation into certain irregular activities that have come to our attention. Activities involving missing persons, fraudulent documents, and unauthorized territorial claims."
It was another bluff, but a calculated one. If Victor was involved in the kind of conspiracy I suspected, then other noble houses might be complicit as well. The fear in several faces told me I was on the right track.
"You have no authority—" Victor began.
"Don't I?" I let my power flare again, and this time the silver fire reached toward him like living thing. "I am the Shadow Queen, heir to powers older than your entire bloodline. I have the authority I choose to take."
Victor stumbled backward as the silver flames licked at his feet. "This isn't over," he snarled. "You have no idea what you've started."
"Good," I replied. "I was beginning to worry this would be too easy."
As the diplomatic party filed out in obvious disarray, I felt a surge of satisfaction unlike anything I'd experienced since my fall from grace. For the first time since that terrible night at my coming-of-age ceremony, I'd faced Victor Sterling as an equal—no, as his superior—and watched him crumble.
But the victory was tempered by the knowledge that this was just the opening move in a much larger game.
Once we were alone, Damien moved to stand beside me, his hand finding mine with gentle possessiveness.
"Well played," he said quietly. "Though I suspect you've just declared war."
"Good," I replied, squeezing his hand. "I'm tired of being on the defensive."
"What's our next move?"
I thought about the visions from the blood covenant, about the journal left by the previous Luna, about all the pieces of a puzzle I was only beginning to understand.
"We find out what really happened to my parents," I said. "And we discover exactly what Victor Sterling is so desperate to hide."
Through our bond, I felt Damien's approval and something else—a dark satisfaction that matched my own.
The Shadow Queen had made her first move. Now it was time to show Victor Sterling what real power looked like.