“Maya, my love,” the Queen says gently, her voice so soft it barely carries over the stunned silence of the crowd, pulling my attention away from Jack.
The name Maya once again strikes something deep inside me, shaking loose memories I didn’t know I still carried—my mother’s voice, her laughter as she brushed my hair, and the warmth of her fingers on my cheek as she called me by that name. For a moment, my knees weaken under the weight of it all, but Jack’s hand finds my waist, steadying me, holding me firm.
“Take your place on the throne as the Crown Princess,” the Queen finishes.
I look up at Jack again, searching his eyes for strength. And as if he can hear my thoughts, he gives me a simple nod, his gaze filled with pride and unwavering love. I mirror those emotions, wishing I could tell him how much I love him too—right here, right now—but this isn’t the time or place.
So, I lean in and press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, a silent promise to love him always, and a grounding reminder of who I am… before I take my first step into the life I was born to live.
Then, I turn and begin to walk forward. Lady Celestia’s body still lies sprawled on the floor, unmoving. Her eyes remain open, but the light is gone. Gone. Her chest no longer rises. She’s… dead.
I step over her without flinching. It feels like I’m crossing the final shadow of my past. I doubt she’ll rest in peace knowing I not only took the man she desperately wanted but also the throne that was always meant for me.
What was her purpose in life, really?
“What are you all staring at?” the Queen snaps, drawing my attention back to her. “Take her corpse away and burn it. Bring me her ashes. I’ll use them as manure for my roses.““”
If she weren’t my mother, I’d be terrified. The Queen is truly frightening, and the crowd flinches at her heartlessness. Even the guards shift nervously, fear flashing in their eyes. The king says nothing this time, choosing silence, but I see it in his face- beneath the cold composure, there’s a flicker of sorrow. For a brief moment, he mourns the daughter he once claimed. He had given Lady Celestia the love and recognition that should have been mine.
“No, Mother,” I say firmly.
The word mother startles us both again. It still feels foreign on my tongue, and I can tell it strikes something deep within her too. It will take time for both of us to grow into it. She turns to me sharply, her brows arched in surprise.
I climb the steps slowly until I reach her. The marble beneath my feet feels warm, alive… and I know it’s because the throne itself has been waiting for me.
I take her hand, slender, regal, and strong, and hold it in mine.
“Let her be buried in the royal cemetery,” I say. “Like Father. She was once a princess, and though she tried to destroy everything… We honour the throne by honouring all those who once held it. Even the fallen.”
The Queen searches my face, her jaw clenching with the effort to contain her emotions. Then her eyes soften, and a sigh escapes her lips.
“Your wish is my command,” she murmurs. “Your first order as Crown Princess, and already you’re showing more heart than
nost rulers ever learn. So merciful… even though her body deserves to be burned to ash for what she put you through.”
I offer her a small, hesitant smile.
She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, her fingers lingering for moment on my cheek. My chest twists again–grief, confusion, longing. I’d been so angry, so convinced they abandoned me… but the look in her eyes is nothing like abandonment. It’s adoration. Fierce and maternal.
Unlike Father, she never stopped loving me. Never tried to replace nie. And somehow, in that moment, I find myself loving her back for it.
Now, I have two mothers–one who raised me and one who gave birth to me. And I don’t know how to make sense of the storm that swirls inside my heart.
Behind us, I can see the shadows of the guards moving quietly to cover Lady Celestia’s naked form and carry her away. The air seems to breathe again.
The Queen gestures toward the throne beside hers. “Come,” she says softly. “Take your place.”
The king sits in the centre, proud and composed. His presence is still commanding, though more reserved now. My throne waits on one side of him, the queen’s on the other.
I take a breath that feels like my first in years. Then I step forward and sit. The moment I do, the throne glows.
A soft, golden light pulses beneath me, wrapping around the edges of the stone as if the throne welcomes me. The warmth seeps into my skin, into my bones. It feels like coming home. Like this seat was molded just for me. Not just a symbol of power… but an extension of me. My second skin.
The silence that follows is thick with awe. Then, applause erupts like a wave crashing through the hall. Thunderous and electric.
I hear Jasmine’s voice rise above the roar, cheering so loudly I swear the tables tremble. My eyes find Jack’s he’s whistling, a wicked grin stretched across his face. My heart clenches, full.
The Queen settles beside the king, and for a moment, the three of us sit there–father, mother, and daughter. A family. Together
at last.
I don’t even realise I’m crying until a warm tear rolls down my cheek. I’m finally reunited with my real family. I was born a royal. The Alpha King’s daughter.
3
All my life, I’ve wondered why I was different–why I couldn’t obey like the other women, why I couldn’t be soft and submissive. I tried, truly, but I couldn’t. My wolf wouldn’t let me. And now, sitting on this throne, looking down at everyone below me, I finally understand.
Neither Maya nor Kali was ever meant to bow.
Branded an outsider, raised to obey, I spent my life defying a world that never knew who I really was. And now they see.
The king clears his throat, rising with a twinkle in his eyes. “Now, he announces, “the party can truly begin! For the royal family is once again whole.”
The cheers intensify.
He glances at me, then turns to the Queen, still seated. “I would say more, but today isn’t about me. It’s her day. Her Majesty’s birthday. And we all know she has far too much to say for me to be taking up her spotlight.”
Laughter ripples through the crowd. The Queen rolls her eyes dramatically.
The King lifts her hand and kisses it, slowly, reverently. The kind of kiss that speaks of decades of battles fought and survived together. I see it then–how much he adores her. The deep, unspoken devotion in every gesture.
They’ve been through hell. Just like me. And now… maybe… we get to heal. Together.
I sit straighter, brushing away my tears. If I’m going to be their daughter… if I’m going to be their princess…
Then I will do it right. I will get to know them.
I will be worthy of the throne that has called me home.
