The Lycan Princess They Made The Servant

The collar burned. Not the metal itself – the mark beneath it. Three crescent moons, hidden against my throat. A brand I'd carried since birth. Tonight I turned eighteen. And tonight, the mark would reveal my fate. I knelt in the pack kitchen, scrubbing the same floor I'd cleaned every night for eight years. My knees ached. My fingers bled. Above me, through the wooden ceiling, laughter echoed. The pack was celebrating. Not me. Never me. I was the Omega. The nameless servant. The girl who fetched water while others drank wine. Stay small, my mother had whispered before she died. Stay invisible. It's the only way to survive. I believed her. Until my neck started to glow. --- The silver light pierced through my collar, through my thin dress, through the darkness of the kitchen. I stumbled back. My hand flew to my throat. No. Not tonight. Please. But the mark pulsed like a heartbeat. Hot. Demanding. And then I felt him. The bond slammed into my chest like a falling tree. His scent – pine and smoke and something wild – filled my lungs. His heartbeat echoed in my ears. Mate. My wolf, silent for eighteen years, finally howled. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The bond pulled me forward, through the kitchen door, across the courtyard, past the training grounds where warriors sneered at the servant girl running barefoot through the mud. I didn't care. He was there. At the silverwood grove. And he was waiting. --- Alpha Killian Blackwood stood beneath the full moon. He was beautiful in the way a storm is beautiful – dangerous, inevitable, devastating. Black hair fell across his forehead. His jaw was sharp enough to cut. His eyes, the color of a winter sky, swept across the gathered pack. Seventy wolves. All watching. All waiting for the Alpha to choose his Luna. He was holding Serena's hand. Serena Vance. Beta's daughter. Golden hair. Cruel smile. The woman who had made my life a living nightmare for eight years. She laughed at something Killian said. Her dress shimmered – a fabric that cost more than my entire existence. I should have run. But the bond pushed me forward. Step. Step. Step. The crowd parted. Whispers followed. "Is that the Omega?" "Her neck is glowing." "She can't be his mate. She's nobody." I stopped three feet from Killian. His eyes met mine. And the world shattered. The bond exploded between us – silver light erupting from both our chests. His wolf surged forward, pupils dilating, chest heaving. "Mate," he breathed. Serena's face went white. I opened my mouth to speak – to beg, to explain, to say something – but Killian's expression shifted. From wonder to horror. From horror to disgust. "No." He stepped back, dropping Serena's hand. "No. Not you." My heart cracked. "Killian—" "You're the Omega." His voice turned to ice. "The servant who scrubs my floors. The nobody who sleeps in the cellar." "I'm your fated mate." "You're a mistake." He grabbed my chin, forcing my face up. His touch burned – but not with love. With rejection. "I, Alpha Killian Blackwood, reject you as my mate and my Luna." The words carved into my chest like claws. Pain. Pure, white-hot pain. My knees hit the ground. Blood dripped from my nose. My wolf screamed inside me, thrashing against the bond as it snapped and frayed. Serena smiled. The pack laughed. But I didn't cry. Because my mother's voice echoed in my memory – the last words she ever spoke before she died in my arms. "If they reject you, don't reject back. Stay. Survive. The bond will keep you safe." I raised my head. "I accept your rejection, Alpha." Killian froze. "But I do not reject you in return." Silence. Serena's smile vanished. "That's not— you can't—" "The law exists." I pushed myself to my knees. Blood dripped down my chin. "Until the mate bond dissolves naturally – seven years – I remain under pack protection. Indentured. But alive." Killian's wolf surfaced in his eyes. Confused. Angry. And… weak? His wolf looked smaller than yesterday. Dimmer. Strange. "You would rather be my servant than walk free?" he demanded. Walk free where? I had no money. No family. No pack would take a rejected Omega. "Yes." Serena stepped forward, grabbed my collar, and yanked me to my feet. The silver bit into my skin. "Fine. You're my personal maid now. You'll serve me breakfast. Clean my room. Watch me sleep in his arms every night." She leaned close, her breath hot on my ear. "And I'll make sure every day hurts." I said nothing. But as she turned to drag me away, something inside my chest cracked. A pulse of silver light exploded from my skin. Not small. Not gentle. Massive. The shockwave threw every wolf to their knees. Warriors cried out. Elders gasped. Serena crashed to the ground, her perfect dress tearing on the stones. And Killian – the great Alpha Killian – stumbled back, clutching his chest, his eyes wide with something I'd never seen before. Fear. "What are you?" he whispered. I looked down at my hands. Silver light danced across my palms. Memories flooded in – a woman with silver hair like mine, a throne of bones, a crown of moonlight. You are not Omega. You are not servant. You are the last true Lycan Princess. Heir to the Silver Throne. Stolen as a baby. Hidden as a slave. I looked up. The silver light faded. And I smiled. "Your new maid," I said softly. "Nothing more." Serena scrambled to her feet. "She's cursed! Kill her, Killian!" But Killian didn't move. He stared at me like I was a ghost. Behind him, his wolf let out a low, pained whimper. The first symptom of the dying sickness. I turned and walked away. Behind me, Serena screamed orders. Warriors whispered. But I heard only one sound. Killian's ragged breath. And the voice of my wolf, finally awake. Seven years, she whispered. Seven years for him to learn what he lost. And when he begs for your blood to save him… You'll make him crawl. ---