Chapter Two — The Bloodline They Buried
1220 Words
For several seconds, I couldn’t draw breath.
Every warrior in the clearing had dropped to one knee.
Facing me. Not Darius. Me.
I stared — frozen, certain I had misunderstood. Then my gaze snapped to Elder Ronan. He alone remained standing, the colour having drained completely from his face.
“What is this?” I whispered.
Silence.
I turned on Darius. He was watching me as if the girl he’d found moments ago had suddenly become someone entirely different.
“Make them stand.”
He didn’t move.
“Make them STAND!”
His jaw tightened into hard lines. “You do not yet understand what you are asking.”
“I don’t understand anything!” My voice cracked, echoing through the trees. “Tonight I was hunted. I ran into forbidden woods. The ‘monster’ everyone warned me about turns out to be my mate — and now my father’s oldest adviser kneels like I wear a crown! Someone — explain!”
Darius’s gaze pinned Ronan. “Tell her.”
Ronan swallowed hard. “She deserves the truth.”
“THEN TELL ME!”
The elder bowed his head, voice heavy and grave. “Jonathan Vale was never your father.”
Everything inside me shattered into stillness. “…What?”
“He raised you. He loved you as his own. But biologically — you were never his daughter.”
“No.” I backed away, shaking my head. “That’s a lie. He told me — my mother died giving birth to me —”
“And that part… is true.” Ronan’s eyes darkened. “But she was not merely your mother. She was the last heir of the ancient royal bloodline.”
Royal. Bloodline. The throne was never his… it was yours.
I swung toward Darius. “You knew.”
“I suspected — from the moment I saw the mark.”
“How long?”
“Since the first time it was revealed.” He stepped forward slowly, carefully. “That crescent mark upon your neck? It is no ordinary birthmark. It is the crest of the line meant to rule.”
“Why was I never told?” My voice shook.
“Because someone erased who you were,” Darius said grimly. “They buried your name. Your heritage. All of it.”
“WHO?”
“The Council.” Ronan’s voice cut through. “Twelve years ago — the royal family was betrayed and butchered. Wiped from existence.”
“By whom?”
Ronan’s gaze flickered to Darius — heavy with meaning. “That is the lie they told everyone. They named him the traitor. The murderer.”
I looked at Darius. “Is it true? Did they — blame you?”
He stood tall, unflinching beneath the weight of it. “They said I failed. And in a way… they were right.”
“Failed to do what?”
“Protect them.” Simple. Raw. Pain etched deep in the lines of his face.
“Everyone whispers you killed them.”
“I did not.”
“THEN WHO DID?”
Darius’s expression shuttered. “I do not yet know — not all the names.”
“But I do.” Ronan stepped forward sharply — hand reaching inside his coat.
Every warrior tensed. Darius shifted, body coiled like a whip. But Ronan withdrew only — a small silver pendant.
My breath caught. I knew it. I had seen it once — locked inside a wooden box in my father’s private study, something he’d refused ever to speak of.
“Your mother gave this to Jonathan the very night you were rescued.” Ronan held it out. “So you would remember her.”
My fingers brushed its cool surface —
PAIN. Blinding, tearing — exploding behind my eyes.
The forest vanished. Smoke and fire took its place. A woman running through flames, clutching something tight against her chest — a baby. Me. Behind her — shadows closing in. A voice cold and terrible cutting through the roar:
“Give me the child.”
She turned, face fierce, burning with love and defiance. “NEVER.”
Then — another figure stepped between them. Tall. Cloaked in black. Darius. But younger. Blood streaked his leathers. He held a blade.
“Run!” he shouted at her.
She thrust the bundle into his arms. Into his arms — me.
I saw his face then — truly saw it. The walls cracking. Awe. Terror. And a grief so ancient it felt carved into his bones.
“She is still alive.”
Then — steel flashed. A scream tore through the smoke. And Darius, clutching me tight, roared:
“TAKE HER AND RUN! KEEP HER SAFE — NO MATTER THE COST!”
—
Gasping, I fell back onto moss and pine needles.
“Liana!” Darius knelt instantly beside me.
I struck his hand away. “You were there.”
He froze. “What did you see?”
“You held me. That night. You carried me away.”
Ronan exhaled shakily behind me. “The seal is breaking. The bloodline remembers.”
“What seal?” I demanded, staring between them. “Tell me what was done to me —!”
A roar shook the very ground. Deep. Thunderous. Not wolf — something far older.
The warriors snapped upright. Darius was on his feet in one fluid motion, silver eyes blazing, facing the darkness. “Everyone — behind me. Now.”
Low growls rippled from the trees. One. Then a dozen. Then — countless.
Ronan paled. “They found us.”
“Who?” My heart hammered against my ribs.
Darius did not look away from the encroaching shadows. “The ones who have hunted you since the day you were born.”
The trees parted. Figures emerged — but wrong. They stood like wolves, moved like wolves — yet their eyes held no iris. No pupil. Nothing but endless, dead black.
Darius spoke sharp and urgent over his shoulder: “Liana — whatever happens. Do NOT call your wolf. Do NOT let her rise.”
“Why? What are they?”
“Because if she answers you — if she wakes fully —” His voice dropped, heavy with dread. “They will know exactly what you are. And they will never stop hunting you.”
A figure stepped into the moonlight.
And my blood turned to ice.
It wore Elder Ronan’s face. His robes. His smile. Every detail perfect — impossible — save for those empty black eyes.
The creature tilted its head.
“Hello, Princess.”
A strangled gasp escaped me. Beside me — the real Ronan stood trembling, staring at his own face staring back.
The imposter smiled wider — a stretch too far, a mockery of humanity.
“Seventeen years we have waited. Hunted. Watched.” Its gaze locked straight onto Darius. “And congratulations, Alpha Lord. Your sweet mate has just made everything… delightfully simple.”
Behind the creature — shadows stepped forward. Countless. Endless.
Darius’s hand closed over mine — firm, warm, unyielding. “Stay close. Do exactly as I do.”
And the false Ronan’s voice — smooth, triumphant — drifted through the clearing like smoke:
“Take her alive. Kill the rest.”
To Be Continued… 🐺🔥
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