My eyes fly to the Alpha King my father searching for answers. But even from where he stands, his eyes widen in disbelief. He looks just as confused as tam.
Whispers explode in the room like thunderclaps,
“She’s a fake!” someone shouts.
“No, that’s impossible! 1 felt het aura!” another growls.
“Yes. Our wolves submitted the moment she walked in!”
“Then why isn’t she healing?”
“Did you see that? It burned her!”
“But she made even the warriors bow!”
“She’s powerful–stronger than-”
Lady Celestia throws her head back and laughs. The sound is sharp and victorious, like broken glass dragged across stone.
“You see?!” she cries, pointing at me as if I were some kind of disease. “She’s the imposter! A fraud! That necklace belongs to the true daughter of the Alpha King–me!” She spins toward the throne. “She should be executed for this insult–for this blasphemy against the royal bloodline. I demand she be punished by death!”
My hand shakes. The pain from the necklace hasn’t faded–it’s as if the burn clings to my soul.
Then I feel him. His warmth. Grounding and familiar.
Jack appears at my side like a balm to my wounds. He cups my hand gently, and the moment our skin touches, the pain begins to ebb–slowly but surely. The burn begins to fade, healing under his touch. The wound closes, the pain vanishes, like it had never been there at all.
“Are you okay?” Jack whispers, his voice low, protective.
“We can leave. We don’t have to stay for this.”
“I’m fine,” I whisper, still shaken. “I just… No. I can’t leave. I’m not running.”
My eyes lock on Lady Celestia’s triumphant smirk.
“GUARDS!” she shrieks, jabbing a finger at me. “Arrest her! As the rightful blood of the Alpha King, I demand her execution! I want her head brought to me this instant!”
But no one moves.
The royal guards remain frozen, tense, uncertain. Then the Alpha King descends another step down the marble staircase. His voice is cold, firm.
“No one touches a hair on Kali’s head.”
Lady Celestia whirls toward him in frustration. “You saw it with your own eyes! The necklace rejected her! She’s a faked by law, if you won’t kill her, then you must crown me now, Father! I am the rightful heir and The Queen to the throne!”
The hall plunges into silence.
Then another voice. Feminine. Calm, yet laced with terrifying authority.
“And who said you’re the rightful heir and queen of the throne?”
Gasps ripple through the hall as the massive doors creak open once more. All eyes turn to the entrance as a woman steps
forward.
My breath catches. My heart skips a beat. My knees nearly buckle.
The moment I see her, I know. Even with my memories fractured and blurry… somehow, deep in my soul, I know.
My real mother.
The Alpha Queen.
She walks with regal grace, as if the very air bends to her presence. Her gown flows like liquid midnight, each step commanding silence. Her hair black like mine, streaked with silver as a mark of age cascades in soft waves over her shoulder. Her face is flawless, cold, and hauntingly familiar. Though her expression is devoid of emotion, her presence is overwhelming. And her eyes–gods, her eyes–are hollow. Empty. Like a soul that has endured centuries of pain.
Still, she is breathtaking.
I gasp, unable to look away.
I see myself in her. The curve of her nose. The sharp cut of her cheekbones. The fire in her stance. My chest tightens with the desperate urge to run to her–to throw my arms around her and ask why she never came for me.
Her eyes scan the room–then finally, they land on me. For a fleeting second, something flickers there. A soft light. The comer of her lips twitches with the ghost of a smile.
I blink, stunned.
She looks away and fixes her gaze on Celestia.
“Welcome, Mother,” Lady Celestia drawls, her voice sticky with sarcasm. “It’s nice of you to finally join us. You missed the best part.”
“I’m not your mother.“Her voice is colder than death itself. “Never was. Never will be.”
G
