Seraphina's POV
I wake up thinking I'm dead.
The bed is too soft. The air smells like pine and frost instead of the musty cabin scent I've known for fifteen years. And there's no pain—no aching muscles from scrubbing floors, no bruises from "accidentally" getting shoved by pack members.
Just warmth. Comfort. Safety.
Then I open my eyes and see the black stone ceiling.
Reality crashes back like a avalanche.
I'm in the Lycan King's fortress. The monster who killed my parents brought me here last night. And worst of all—my wolf is happy about it.
I can feel her contentment humming under my skin, pleased that we're close to our new mate.
"He's not our mate," I hiss at her.
The bond says otherwise.
"The bond is wrong!"
The Moon Goddess is never wrong.
I want to argue more, but a knock interrupts us.
"Breakfast," Theron's deep voice calls from outside the door. "Then we talk."
My stomach clenches. Part fear, part something else I refuse to name. "I'm not hungry."
"You haven't eaten in over twelve hours. You're hungry." I can hear the smile in his voice. "Don't make me come in there."
"You wouldn't dare—"
The door opens.
I yank the silk sheets up to my chin even though I'm wearing a nightgown I definitely don't remember putting on. "Get out!"
Theron leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. He's dressed simply—dark pants and a shirt that does nothing to hide how powerful he is. His silver eyes sweep over me, and the mate bond flares hot in response.
Traitor.
"You have two choices," he says calmly. "Come to breakfast willingly, or I carry you there. Either way, you're eating."
"You can't just order me around!"
"I'm the Lycan King. I can order anyone around." But his expression softens slightly. "However, I'd prefer you came by choice. I'm told I can be quite charming over breakfast."
"Charming?" I laugh bitterly. "You murdered my parents."
The words hang in the air between us.
Theron's jaw tightens. "Yes. I did. And today, you're going to learn why."
Something in his tone stops my next argument. He's not defensive. Not angry. Just... resigned? Sad?
No. I won't feel sympathy for him.
"There are clothes in the wardrobe," he continues. "Take your time. I'll wait in the hallway."
He leaves, closing the door gently behind him.
I sit in the enormous bed, my heart racing. Every instinct screams at me to run. To shift and jump out the window and never stop running.
But where would I go?
Silver Creek exiled me. I have no other pack. No family. No friends except Mira, who's trapped in a pack that clearly doesn't value loyalty.
And my wolf... my wolf wants to stay here.
He can protect us, she whispers. He can teach us to be strong.
"So we can kill him later?" I mutter.
So we can never be weak again.
That, at least, makes sense.
I climb out of bed and find the wardrobe. Inside are clothes more expensive than anything I've ever owned—soft fabrics, rich colors, perfectly sized like someone measured me while I slept.
Creepy.
But I'm not walking around in a nightgown, so I pick simple pants and a tunic. They fit perfectly. Of course they do.
When I open the door, Theron straightens from where he was leaning against the wall. "Beautiful."
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't compliment me. Don't be nice. Don't pretend this is anything other than what it is."
He tilts his head. "And what is it?"
"You're keeping me prisoner because of some stupid mate bond."
"You're not a prisoner." His voice hardens slightly. "Prisoners don't get the Queen's chambers. Prisoners don't get choices. And prisoners certainly don't get to insult their captor without consequences."
I lift my chin. "Then what am I?"
He steps closer, and my breath catches. The mate bond thrums between us, stronger now that we're both awake and aware.
"You're my mate," he says quietly. "My second chance. And whether you believe it or not, you're exactly where you're supposed to be."
Before I can respond, he turns and walks down the hallway. "Come. You need to eat, and we have much to discuss."
I follow because I don't know what else to do.
The Citadel is massive—black stone everywhere, with silver torches that burn without smoke. We pass guards who bow their heads to Theron and stare at me with curiosity.
The new Queen, I realize with horror. They think I'm going to be their Queen.
We enter a dining hall that could fit my entire old cabin inside it three times over. But instead of a huge table with hundreds of seats, there's a small table set for two near enormous windows.
The view steals my breath. Mountains stretch as far as I can see, their peaks covered in snow that glitters in the morning sun.
"Sit," Theron says, pulling out a chair.
I ignore his offered hand and sit on my own. A servant immediately appears with plates of food—eggs, bacon, fresh bread, fruit I've never seen before.
My stomach growls loudly.
Theron's lips twitch. "Eat, Seraphina. We'll talk after."
I want to refuse out of spite. But I'm starving, and the food smells incredible. I grab a piece of bread and bite into it.
It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted.
I must make a sound because Theron chuckles. "The Citadel's baker is the best in all territories."
"Why am I here?" I ask around another bite. "Really. Not the mate bond excuse. The real reason."
He studies me for a long moment. "You truly don't know, do you? Your pack never told you."
"Told me what?"
Instead of answering, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small wooden box. It's old, carved with symbols I don't recognize.
He slides it across the table toward me.
"What's this?"
"Open it." His silver eyes are intense. "It belonged to your mother."
My heart stops. "My mother?"
"Elaine Ashwood. She left this with me the night she died. Made me promise to give it to you when I found you."
My hands shake as I reach for the box. "You're lying. You killed her. Why would she give you anything?"
"Because she knew what was coming. She knew they'd hunt her. Knew she might not survive." His voice drops. "And she knew I was the only one who could protect you from the same fate."
I stare at the box. It's small, light, innocuous.
But somehow, I know that opening it will change everything.
"What's inside?" I whisper.
"The truth about why your parents died. About what you really are. About why Silver Creek suppressed your wolf for twenty-three years." He leans forward. "Open it, Seraphina. It's time you learned who you were always meant to be."
My fingers tremble as I flip the latch.
Inside is a silver amulet on a delicate chain. It pulses with a soft blue light, warm to the touch.
The moment my skin makes contact, the amulet flares bright.
And my mother's voice fills the room.
"Seraphina. My darling girl. If you're hearing this, then we've failed. Then Theron found you. Then it's time for you to know the truth."
I nearly drop the box. That's my mother's voice. I remember it from before she died—gentle, loving, strong.
The amulet projects an image above the table—my mother's face, shimmering and translucent but unmistakably her.
"You are not just a wolf, my love. You are descended from the First Mates—the original she-wolves created by the Moon Goddess to bond with Lycan kings. Your bloodline is ancient. Powerful. And that's why they fear you."
My breath comes in short gasps. Theron sits motionless, letting me process.
My mother's image continues: "The Council of Elders wants to end the Lycan bloodline. They want power for themselves. So they've been systematically eliminating anyone who could produce Lycan heirs. That includes us. That includes you."
No. No, this can't be real.
"Your father and I stole this amulet from Theron's sacred vault. Not to harm him—to protect it. To protect you. Because inside this amulet is the key to creating new Lycans. The last piece of ancient magic that can continue Theron's bloodline."
The image flickers.
"We knew the risk. Knew Theron would execute us under his laws. But we made him promise first—promise to find you. Protect you. Help you awaken when the time was right."
Tears stream down my face.
"Silver Creek was supposed to keep you safe until you were ready. But we were fools to trust them. By now, they've probably suppressed your wolf to hide what you are."
My stomach drops.
"Seraphina, my brave girl, you were born to stand beside a king. To be his equal, not his subject. Don't let them make you small. Don't let them make you weak."
The image reaches out as if to touch my face.
"Trust Theron. He loved us like family. He mourned what he had to do. And he's the only one powerful enough to protect you from what's coming. Because when they realize what you are, they'll do anything to kill you before you can—"
The message cuts off abruptly.
The amulet goes dark.
I sit frozen, the box trembling in my hands.
"Before I can what?" I whisper.
Theron's expression is grave. "Before you can bear a Lycan heir."
The words punch through me.
"Alpha Marcus didn't just suppress your wolf randomly," he continues. "He carved suppression runes into your very bones through illegal dark magic. Magic that should have killed you but didn't because of what you are."
Horror floods through me. "Runes? In my bones?"
"We'll remove them. My physician is the best." He reaches across the table, his hand covering mine. "But you need to understand—this isn't over. The conspiracy that killed your parents is still active. And now that you've awakened, now that you're here with me, they'll come for you."
My mind reels. Everything I believed was a lie.
Silver Creek didn't take me in out of mercy. They took me in to control me.
My parents weren't just thieves. They were heroes trying to protect ancient magic.
And Theron... Theron isn't just my mate.
He's the only thing standing between me and assassination.
"I don't understand," I choke out. "Why me? Why is my bloodline so important?"
Theron's silver eyes burn with intensity.
"Because you're the first female born with First Mate blood in two hundred years. Because if we complete our bond, if we produce an heir, the Lycan bloodline continues. Real power returns to the territories." His grip tightens on my hand. "And that terrifies the wolves who've been ruling in my shadow, waiting for me to die so they can take control."
The room spins.
"They'll kill me," I breathe.
"They'll try." His voice goes hard as steel. "But I've waited two centuries for you, Seraphina. I've mourned my first mate, ruled alone, and wondered if I'd spend eternity without an equal."
He stands, pulls me to my feet, and cups my face with surprising gentleness.
"So no. They won't kill you. Because I'll burn every pack in the Northern Territories to ash before I let anyone take you from me."
The mate bond explodes between us at his words—possession, protection, devotion all wrapped together.
My wolf purrs approval.
But my human brain has one more question.
"The runes in my bones," I whisper. "How long have they been there?"
Theron's expression darkens.
"Since you were eight years old. Since the day your parents died and Alpha Marcus took you in."
The answer hits like a physical blow.
For fifteen years, I lived with the wolf who carved dark magic into my bones to keep me weak.
For fifteen years, I thanked him for his mercy.
And for fifteen years, he was planning to make sure I never became what I was meant to be.
"I want them out," I snarl, rage replacing shock. "Get these things OUT of me."
"First thing tomorrow," Theron promises. "But you need to prepare yourself. The removal will be painful. And once the runes are gone, your full power will awaken."
"How powerful?"
His smile is sharp.
"Powerful enough that every Alpha in the territories will have to bow to you."
A knock interrupts us. A massive male wolf enters—older, with scars across his face and an aura almost as strong as Theron's.
"My King," he says, bowing. "We have a problem."
Theron doesn't look away from me. "Speak."
"Silver Creek Pack has sent an official petition to the Council of Elders. They're claiming Seraphina Ashwood is dangerous and unstable. They're requesting..." he hesitates.
"Requesting what?" I demand.
The male's eyes meet mine with something like pity.
"They're requesting your execution for the safety of all packs."