Chapter 3: The Future Alpha
3034 Words
Sleep never came.
Lyra sat on the narrow bed in the servants' quarters, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. Moonlight spilled through the tiny window, painting pale silver lines across the floor.
Her fingers traced the strange mark beneath her collarbone.
A black crown embraced by a crescent moon.
It had faded before dawn, but she could still feel it burning beneath her skin.
"Find the Seal... before they do."
The mysterious voice echoed through her thoughts.
She had searched every book she could secretly borrow from the manor library over the years. She had read stories about the Moon Goddess, the First Alphas, and the founding of the Northern Territories.
Never—not once—had she encountered the words Queen's Seal.
"Who am I?" she whispered into the empty room.
The question had haunted her since childhood.
Everyone claimed she was merely an orphan the Ravencrest family had taken in out of pity.
Yet she carried the Ravencrest name.
She looked nothing like her cousins.
She had silver eyes no one could explain.
And now...
A blind prophetess had called her Queen.
A knock shattered the silence.
"Lyra!"
Martha's voice rang through the corridor.
"If you're awake, stop wasting time! The manor won't clean itself."
Lyra quickly covered the mark with her dress.
"I'm coming."
She splashed cold water over her face before hurrying outside.
The manor had already awakened.
Servants rushed through the halls carrying baskets of laundry and crates of supplies left behind after the banquet. Others scrubbed marble floors until they reflected the morning sunlight.
Lyra quietly joined them.
She worked with practiced efficiency, saying little and observing everything.
It was another reason people underestimated her.
They mistook silence for emptiness.
They never realized she remembered every conversation, every expression, every tiny detail others ignored.
As she polished the grand staircase, two maids whispered nearby.
"Have you heard?"
"He arrived before sunrise."
"Who?"
"The Alpha Prince."
Lyra's hands froze.
The cloth slipped from her fingers.
The younger maid lowered her voice excitedly.
"They say he's inspecting every noble house before the Grand Moon Assembly."
"I've heard he's even stronger than his father was at his age."
"They call him the future Alpha King."
Lyra forced herself to keep polishing the railing.
But her heartbeat had already betrayed her.
Rowan...
She hadn't heard his name in nearly three years.
Not since he had left Raven Hollow to train in the royal capital.
She had convinced herself she had forgotten him.
She had lied.
---
Beyond the towering walls of Ravencrest Manor, the village buzzed with excitement.
Children abandoned their games and raced toward the northern gate.
Merchants hurried to decorate their shops.
Even seasoned warriors straightened their armor.
Everyone wanted a glimpse of the future Alpha.
A distant horn echoed across the valley.
One.
Then another.
The gates slowly opened.
An elite company of Blackwood warriors rode into the village on enormous black wolves.
Their silver armor gleamed beneath the morning sun, each breastplate engraved with the royal crest of the Blackwood Bloodline.
The villagers immediately bowed.
At the center of the procession rode a young man on a magnificent white wolf.
He looked no older than twenty-three.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
His midnight-black hair shifted gently in the breeze, while piercing sapphire-blue eyes calmly studied the village before him.
He wore no crown.
He didn't need one.
Authority surrounded him as naturally as breathing.
This was Rowan Blackwood.
The only son of the Alpha King.
The future ruler of every pack in the Northern Territories.
Women smiled shyly as he passed.
Young warriors stared at him with admiration.
Older Alphas bowed respectfully.
Yet Rowan acknowledged each of them with quiet humility instead of arrogance.
Behind him rode his closest companion, Commander Gareth.
"The villagers seem excited to see you, Your Highness."
Rowan smiled faintly.
"They're excited to see hope."
Gareth laughed.
"You're too modest."
Rowan didn't answer.
Instead, his gaze wandered across the streets.
Something felt...
Different.
He couldn't explain it.
Almost as if an invisible force had drawn him back to Raven Hollow.
His wolf stirred uneasily inside him.
"She's here."
Rowan frowned.
Who?
But his wolf offered no answer.
---
Inside Ravencrest Manor, Lord Aldric nearly tripped over himself trying to welcome the royal guests.
"Your Highness!" he exclaimed with an exaggerated bow.
"It is the greatest honor House Ravencrest has received in decades."
Rowan dismounted gracefully.
"You honor us with your hospitality, Lord Ravencrest."
His calm voice immediately put everyone at ease.
Servants lined both sides of the entrance with lowered heads.
Among them...
Lyra stood silently, her gaze fixed on the marble floor.
She told herself not to look.
Not even once.
He wouldn't remember her.
Why would he?
He had become the future Alpha King.
She had become a servant.
Their worlds no longer belonged together.
Then...
Rowan stopped walking.
His eyes swept across the line of servants.
Past one face.
Then another.
Suddenly—
He stopped.
His heartbeat skipped.
Silver eyes.
For the briefest moment, the world around him disappeared.
He knew those eyes.
Impossible...
"Lyra?"
Her breath caught.
Slowly...
She raised her head.
Their eyes met for the first time in three years.
The memories returned instantly.
A little girl laughing beside the lake.
A young boy promising to protect her forever.
Two children chasing fireflies beneath the moonlight.
A friendship untouched by titles or bloodlines.
Before the world had separated them.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence lasted only seconds.
But it felt like years.
Then Lord Aldric stepped between them with an awkward laugh.
"Forgive her, Your Highness."
"She's only one of our servants."
Rowan's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
A servant?
His eyes returned to Lyra.
The little girl who had once beaten him at every strategy game.
The girl who had bandaged his wounds after he fell from a tree.
The girl who had dreamed of exploring the world beyond the mountains.
She wasn't supposed to be a servant.
Something was terribly wrong.
Before Rowan could speak...
Lyra quietly lowered her gaze again.
"...Welcome home, Your Highness."
Her voice was calm.
Respectful.
Distant.
As though they had never truly known each other.
Rowan felt an unfamiliar pain tighten in his chest.
He had returned expecting to reunite with an old friend.
Instead...
He had found a stranger hiding behind lowered eyes.
And for reasons he couldn't understand...
His wolf growled deep inside him.
Not in anger.
In recognition.
"Mine."
Rowan's entire body went rigid.
His wolf had never reacted like this before.
He stared at Lyra in stunned silence.
She, however, seemed completely unaware.
Or perhaps...
She was pretending not to notice.
The words echoed inside Rowan's mind.
"Mine."
His wolf had spoken with a certainty that sent a chill down his spine.
Never.
Not once in twenty-three years had his wolf reacted so violently to another person.
Not even during royal ceremonies where hundreds of noble daughters competed for his attention.
Yet the quiet servant standing before him had awakened an instinct he couldn't explain.
Rowan quickly forced his expression back to its usual calm.
If anyone noticed his reaction, questions would follow.
Questions he wasn't prepared to answer.
Lord Aldric smiled nervously.
"Your Highness, please allow me to show you inside."
Rowan nodded, but before following him, he looked at Lyra one last time.
"You've grown."
The simple words caught everyone off guard.
Lyra lifted her eyes in surprise.
"So have you... Your Highness."
There was no warmth in her voice.
Only respect.
The distance between them hurt more than Rowan expected.
Without another word, he entered the manor.
---
The grand dining hall had been transformed into a meeting chamber.
Maps of the Northern Territories covered the massive oak table while servants poured tea for the royal guests.
Lyra moved silently between them, refilling cups and replacing empty plates.
Invisible.
At least, that was what she wanted everyone to believe.
As she worked, Rowan's eyes drifted toward her again and again.
She was different.
The cheerful girl who used to laugh at his terrible fishing skills had disappeared.
Her smile was gone.
Even the way she walked had changed.
Every movement was careful.
Measured.
As though she had learned never to attract attention.
Commander Gareth noticed.
"You know that servant?"
Rowan hesitated.
"We grew up together."
Gareth looked genuinely surprised.
"A servant?"
Rowan frowned.
"No."
"She was never a servant."
Across the room, Lord Aldric began speaking.
"As Your Highness knows, House Ravencrest remains loyal to the Blackwood Crown."
"Of course," Rowan replied politely.
"We are honored by your continued service."
Lord Aldric's smile widened.
"My daughter Selene has trained tirelessly for the Grand Moon Assembly."
"As expected of House Ravencrest."
With a graceful smile, Selene stepped forward.
She bowed elegantly.
"It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness."
Rowan acknowledged her politely.
"I've heard you possess exceptional talent."
Selene's cheeks flushed.
"Your praise means everything."
Throughout the conversation, Lyra quietly served tea.
She listened.
She observed.
She noticed things others missed.
Lord Aldric spoke confidently.
Too confidently.
Every compliment sounded rehearsed.
Every smile looked forced.
Even Rowan seemed to notice.
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
---
The meeting continued for another hour.
Finally, Rowan rose.
"I would like to inspect the estate before leaving."
Lord Aldric quickly agreed.
"Of course."
Servants rushed ahead to prepare.
As everyone moved through the manor, Rowan deliberately slowed his pace.
Soon...
Only one servant remained nearby.
Lyra.
She carried a basket of freshly washed linens toward the eastern corridor.
"Lyra."
She stopped walking.
Slowly turning, she bowed.
"Your Highness."
"You don't have to call me that."
Her fingers tightened around the basket.
"You are the future Alpha King."
"And you're still Lyra."
For the first time since his arrival...
A tiny smile appeared on her lips.
It vanished almost instantly.
"Things have changed."
Rowan stepped closer.
"I can see that."
Silence settled between them.
"So..."
he said softly.
"Why didn't you write?"
Lyra looked away.
"I didn't think you would have time to read letters from a servant."
His chest tightened.
"You were my friend."
"Were."
The single word hit harder than any blade.
Rowan searched her face.
"What happened while I was gone?"
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it again.
How could she explain years of humiliation?
Years of being treated as less than human?
Years of pretending she wasn't intelligent enough to survive?
She couldn't.
Instead, she forced another polite smile.
"You should return."
"Everyone is waiting."
Before Rowan could stop her, she walked away.
He watched her disappear down the corridor.
His wolf growled again.
Not with possessiveness this time.
With anger.
Someone had broken her spirit.
And his instincts demanded to know who.
---
That afternoon, Rowan wandered alone through the manor gardens.
Most of the flowers had withered.
Several fountains no longer worked.
The once-proud estate was quietly decaying.
Near the old willow tree, he noticed someone kneeling beside a dying rose bush.
Lyra.
She carefully loosened the hardened soil around its roots before adding fresh water.
Rowan approached quietly.
"I remember this garden."
She didn't look up.
"You planted these roses."
He smiled.
"You remembered."
"I remember everything."
The words escaped before she realized it.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally Rowan crouched beside her.
"The gardeners said this bush would die years ago."
Lyra gently brushed dirt from one of its leaves.
"It wasn't dying."
"It was planted too deeply."
"The roots couldn't breathe."
She pointed toward the base.
"The soil trapped too much water."
"So everyone thought the leaves were drying because they needed more."
"They were actually drowning."
Rowan stared at the rose bush.
Then at Lyra.
She had diagnosed the problem within seconds.
Not by guessing.
By observing.
His respect for her deepened.
"You've always been clever."
She lowered her head.
"No."
"I've simply learned to pay attention."
Before Rowan could answer...
A sharp voice shattered the peaceful moment.
"There you are!"
Selene strode across the garden wearing an irritated expression.
"Father has been searching everywhere."
She stopped upon seeing Rowan beside Lyra.
Her smile immediately returned.
"Your Highness."
Then she looked at Lyra.
"What are you doing?"
"I was tending the garden."
"Tending it?"
Selene laughed.
"The servants have plenty of work inside."
Her eyes hardened.
"And don't keep bothering His Highness."
Rowan stood.
"She wasn't bothering me."
Selene blinked.
"I... I only meant—"
"I asked her to stay."
For the first time, Selene's perfect smile cracked.
She bowed stiffly.
"Forgive me."
As she walked away, hatred flashed briefly across her face.
She had noticed the way Rowan looked at Lyra.
And she despised it.
From the balcony overlooking the garden...
Another pair of eyes had witnessed everything.
Lord Aldric.
His cheerful expression slowly disappeared.
He watched Rowan speaking comfortably with Lyra.
He watched Lyra smiling—a genuine smile he hadn't seen in years.
His hands tightened behind his back.
"This cannot happen."
Beside him, Lady Helena followed his gaze.
"You noticed it too?"
Lord Aldric nodded grimly.
"The prince remembers her."
Lady Helena's voice became barely audible.
"If he learns who she truly is..."
Lord Aldric interrupted coldly.
"He won't."
His eyes darkened.
"Prepare the carriage."
Lady Helena frowned.
"The carriage?"
"It's time."
"For what?"
Lord Aldric turned toward the shadows of the manor.
"For Lyra to disappear."
As thunder rumbled across the distant mountains, neither Rowan nor Lyra noticed the servant secretly leaving the manor with sealed orders in his hands.
Someone had already been sent...
To ensure Lyra never lived long enough to learn the truth.
- Writer
