The Lycan Princess They Made The Servant

The Queen's First Command

The courtyard held its breath.

Fifty wolves stared at the silver blood drying on the stones. At their Alpha kneeling before a servant. At Serena Vance, frozen with her hand in her pocket.

I saw it before anyone else did.

The glint of steel.

"Serena," I said quietly. "I wouldn't."

Her hand emerged – not with a knife, but with a small glass vial. Black liquid swirled inside.

Poison.

"One drop," she hissed, "and your Lycan blood means nothing. This is silver nightshade. It kills wolves and Lycans alike."

Killian stood. "Serena, put that down."

"No." She backed toward the gate. "You swore yourself to her. To this freak. I won't stand by while she destroys everything I built."

I stepped forward. "You built nothing. You were born into privilege and used it to crush everyone beneath you."

"And you were born a servant." She uncorked the vial. "Let's see how royal you look when you're writhing on the ground."

She threw it.

Time slowed.

The vial spun through the air – black liquid spraying – heading straight for my face.

I didn't move.

A body slammed into me, knocking me sideways.

Killian.

He took the poison full in the chest.

It splattered across his shirt, sizzling through the fabric, burning his skin. He grunted and fell to his knees, dark veins erupting across his neck.

"No!" I dropped beside him. "Killian, why—"

"Because," he gasped, "I already lost you once. I won't... lose you again."

The courtyard erupted.

Warriors tackled Serena. She screamed curses as they dragged her away. Elders rushed forward. Agatha shouted for the healer.

But I only saw Killian.

His wolf was fading fast. The silver nightshale combined with the existing curse – it was eating him from the inside.

"You fool," I whispered. "I could have healed myself."

He smiled weakly. "Didn't know that."

I bit my wrist – hard. Silver blood welled up. I pressed it to his lips.

"Drink."

He did.

The dark veins receded. The burns on his chest closed. His wolf let out a grateful whimper.

But the poison had done something else.

The bond between us – already reignited – burned now. I felt his heartbeat in my chest. His fear in my stomach. His shame like a hot iron.

And something else.

Regret.

Deep, aching regret.

"You're crying," he whispered.

I touched my cheek. Wet.

"I'm not crying for you," I lied. "I'm crying because I hate that I saved you."

He reached up and wiped a tear from my face.

"Then hate me," he said. "But don't let me die. Not yet."

---

The healer arrived. I stepped back, letting the old woman tend to Killian's wounds. He needed rest, not my blood.

Agatha pulled me aside.

"Princess, Serena is in the dungeon. What are your orders?"

I looked at the old elder. "Does the pack still follow the old laws?"

"Yes."

"Then Serena Vance is guilty of attempting to murder a Lycan royal. The punishment is exile – stripped of her wolf, banished to the human world."

Agatha nodded. "It will be done."

"No." Serena's voice cut through the courtyard. She stood between two warriors, her hair wild, her eyes insane. "You can't exile me. I'm carrying Killian's child."

The world stopped.

Killian shot up from the ground. "What?"

Serena smiled. "I'm pregnant. Two weeks. Your pup, Alpha. Are you going to exile the mother of your heir?"

I stared at her flat stomach.

My wolf growled.

Liar, she hissed. The child isn't his.

But how could I prove it?

Killian looked at me – lost, broken, desperate. "Raya, I didn't know. I swear I didn't know."

"Does it matter?" Serena laughed. "The heir to Blackwood Pack is in my belly. You can't touch me now."

Agatha hesitated. "If she speaks the truth... the laws protect a pregnant wolf."

I stepped forward.

"Then we wait," I said calmly. "A pregnancy is confirmed in four weeks. If she's lying, she dies. If she's telling the truth... we negotiate."

Serena's smile faltered. "You think I'm lying?"

"I think you're desperate." I walked to her, close enough to whisper. "And I think that baby isn't Killian's. I can smell the other wolf on you. The question is – who else has been in your bed?"

Her face went white.

I turned to the pack.

"Serena Vance is confined to her quarters until a healer confirms her pregnancy. If she's telling the truth, she lives as a prisoner. If she's lying – she faces the full penalty for attempted murder."

Killian stood slowly. "Agreed."

Serena screamed as the warriors dragged her away. "You'll regret this! Both of you! The baby is his! I'll prove it!"

Her voice faded.

The courtyard fell silent.

---

That night, I sat alone in the cellar.

Not because I had to – because I chose to. The pack had offered me a proper room. I refused.

This cellar was where I'd learned to survive. I wouldn't forget that.

A knock.

Killian stood at the door, his chest bandaged, his face pale.

"You shouldn't be walking," I said.

"I needed to see you."

"Why?"

He stepped inside. The cellar was small – his head almost touched the ceiling. "The baby. If it's mine..."

"Then you chose to sleep with the woman who tortured me." My voice was ice. "While I scrubbed your floors."

He flinched. "I was wrong."

"Wrong doesn't cover it, Killian."

"I know." He sat on the dirt floor across from me. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. I know I can never undo what I did. But I'm asking you – not as Alpha, not as your mate – but as a man who is terrified of losing everything... help me save my pack. Help me save me."

I studied his face.

The arrogance was gone. The cruelty was gone. In its place – just a broken wolf who had finally realized what he threw away.

"Your child," I said. "If it's yours, I will protect it. Not for you. For the innocent."

He nodded.

"But if Serena is lying – and I believe she is – you will watch her die. And you will not flinch."

"I won't."

"Then we have a deal."

I extended my hand.

He took it – and the bond sang.

Not with love. Not yet. With purpose.

"We have four weeks until the pregnancy confirmation," I said. "In that time, I will break the curse. You will rebuild this pack. And Serena will rot."

"And after?"

I pulled my hand back.

"After, we see if you're worth keeping."

---

Three days passed.

I healed children. I cleansed the water supply. I walked the pack borders, dripping silver blood into the earth, pushing back the curse inch by inch.

Killian followed me everywhere.

Not speaking. Just watching.

The pack noticed. Whispers spread.

"The Alpha follows her like a puppy."

"He rejected his fated mate. Now he's begging."

"She should make him suffer more."

I agreed with that last one.

On the fourth night, Marcus found me at the border.

"You're burning through your power," he warned. "The curse is ancient. You can't break it alone."

"I'm not alone."

"You have the Alpha. But his wolf is still weak."

"Then I'll make him stronger."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "You know what that requires, don't you?"

I did.

To strengthen a mate bond, Lycan blood needed to be shared. Not just healing – intimacy. Touch. Trust.

Things I didn't have for Killian.

"There must be another way."

"There isn't." Marcus touched my shoulder. "You can't break the curse without his wolf at full strength. And his wolf won't heal without you."

I closed my eyes.

Damn him.

"Fine," I said. "Then he'll have to earn it."

---

That night, I summoned Killian to the cellar.

He came immediately – too eagerly.

"Sit," I ordered.

He sat.

"I need your wolf at full strength to break the curse. That requires bonding. Not the mate bond – a working bond. You will give me your blood. I will give you mine. And then we will hunt together."

"Hunt?"

"Tomorrow night. Full moon. We track the source of the curse and destroy it."

He nodded. "What do I need to do?"

"Hold out your arm."

He did. I took a silver knife – the same one Serena had used on me – and sliced his forearm.

He didn't flinch.

I pressed my bleeding wrist to his wound.

The silver light exploded.

We both gasped. The bond flared – and for one moment, I saw everything. His childhood. His father's death. The moment he first saw me scrubbing floors and felt the bond – and was terrified.

He rejected me because he was scared.

Not because he hated me.

Because he didn't think he deserved a mate.

"You i***t," I whispered.

"I know."

I pulled away. The bond dimmed – but it was stronger now. His wolf pulsed with new energy.

"Tomorrow," I said. "At moonrise. Don't be late."

"I won't."

He left.

I sat alone in the cellar, staring at the silver blood still drying on my skin.

What am I doing?

My wolf didn't answer.

But my heart whispered something dangerous.

You're falling for him.

And that was the worst curse of all.