Becoming Kitty Riley

Chapter 2: Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold.

Present Day - Kitty

"In the end, power means nothing if your soul is in chains, but I’ve long since learned to ignore the shackles in favor of the sword."

“Goddess, help me!” I groaned, sitting on my bathroom sink, the cold porcelain biting into my skin as I faced the ornate mirror. The intricate silver around its edges seemed to mock my frustration as I carefully applied another coat of waterproof mascara. My hands trembled slightly, but I steadied myself. This had to be perfect.

"So this is the new world? Different skies, same treachery. Well, let them think they’ve escaped me. I'll burn their kingdoms to the ground before I allow them peace." I thought as I stared into my reflection, I didn't want to see a broken and sad version of me and not at all like the girl I used to be staring back at me urging me to get my revenge.

*"Kitty Kat!"* His voice still haunts me, whispering through the corridors of my mind, echoing in the hollow places where his love once lived. I see us in the garden, always that damn garden—lush and vibrant, like our kingdoms back then. I remember the way his eyes softened when he looked at me, as if the whole world could melt away with just a glance. We walked among the silver flowers, our hands brushing, the scent of magic thick in the air.

Back then, the fae and werewolf kingdoms were allies, bound by an ancient pact of trust and protection. We were powerful together, like night and day dancing in perfect harmony. But now, in this twisted modern world, the fae are nothing but whispers—near extinction, forgotten by history. The wolves? They’ve turned inward, loyal only to their own kind, abandoning the alliances that once kept us strong. The garden fades like a dying dream, and I’m left with nothing but the ache of what once was. The bitter truth is, I’ve been chasing ghosts while the world has moved on.

“Is it done?” I asked, my voice calm despite the growing storm inside me. I kept my gaze fixed on my reflection, perfecting the sharp winged eyeliner that framed my amber eyes. My emotions had to be as sharp as this line—controlled, precise.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Lucinda replied. Her tone was submissive but laced with urgency. “The elders have been dealt with, and Sabine and Ethan have been located.” She bowed deeply, her shadowy form blending into the dimly lit bathroom, but I could sense her nervous energy.

“Excellent,” I whispered the word like a secret I couldn’t wait to reveal. A slow, sinister smile spread across my lips, and a low, haunting cackle escaped me.

The sound echoed off the marble walls as Lucinda retreated through the gilded door, leaving me alone with my dark thoughts and the flickering light casting eerie shadows around the room. My reflection smirked back at me, a twisted mirror of the woman I once was.

Later that Day...

"Lucinda, where are we?" I called out, my voice echoing through the vastness of my quarters, the first words I've spoken to her since awakening in this strange, new world. For the first month, I remained in the shadows, adjusting to life in the 21st century—a world that felt foreign, almost hostile, as if time itself had turned its back on me.

"We are in the mansion I purchased for you, my lady," Lucinda said with reverence, bowing low before me as her words unraveled the story of how I had come to possess such wealth in this new age. "I have done as you asked, Your Grace," she continued, her voice filled with pride and devotion.

"After I sealed you away, I went to work—procured your riches, your legacy. It wasn’t easy, but I took the Eye of Sahara, your most prized artifact, and fled north, far from the reach of those who sought to erase your memory. There, I found a coven of witches—young, eager, and impressionable. I trained them in your ways, Your Grace, molding them into your faithful followers, ensuring they understood that their sole purpose was to serve you when the time came. I instructed them to wake me in five years... or sooner, should Ethan or Sabine be reborn."

I listened in silence, intrigued by her meticulous efforts. "And when were they born?" I asked, my tone sharp but indifferent, though the familiar stir of resentment coiled in my chest like a viper.

"Sabine," Lucinda replied, her eyes flickering with a mix of respect and caution. "Born to a fae mother named Jocelyn and a werewolf king father—Peter."

I clenched my hands, my fingers tightening with every word, the name *Sabine* leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. "And Ethan?" I asked, spitting his name between my teeth like venom.

Lucinda hesitated for a moment, sensing the storm within me. "He, too, was born again. His parents are powerful in the werewolf hierarchy, wealthy beyond measure. But..." she hesitated.

"But what, Lucinda?" I pressed, narrowing my eyes.

She straightened and met my gaze. "You are now old money, stinking rich, Your Grace. I have ensured your place in this world, securing estates, fortunes, and more—your wealth rivals theirs. You are no longer a forgotten queen. You are more powerful than ever."

I allowed myself a slow smile. Riches, power, influence—it was all mine. But it would mean nothing until I had them on their knees before me.

"This way! my lady" Lucinda said softly, her presence a comforting constant as she glided me down a massive hallway, its walls lined with portraits of people I no longer recognized. The air was thick with the scent of old books as she led me toward the library, the only place that still felt familiar. "I've discovered much since you’ve been asleep," she continued, her voice laced with a hint of sorrow. "There was a war after the deaths of Ethan and Sabine—a war that shattered the magical kingdoms and left them in ruins. The fallout was catastrophic, and the bonds that once held our worlds together were severed."

As we stepped into the library, the weight of her words pressed down on me, like the dust that covered the ancient tomes lining the shelves.

"And now," she said, "there is a prophecy—a fragile thread of hope woven through the darkness:

"Two shall rise, each from a fallen kingdom. United, they will bring forth harmony for the next two centuries, or darkness shall reign eternally."

My eyes narrowed, the familiar fire of vengeance rekindling in my chest. "And what of this prophecy?" I asked, my voice low, dangerous.

"There are two secret societies that believe in it," Lucinda explained, her gaze unwavering. "The Order of the Light, created to serve and protect Ethan and Sabine, and to see the prophecy fulfilled. And then, the Order of the Thorn—formed to protect and support you, my lady. They believe you are the key to reshaping the world in your image, and they will stop at nothing to see you rise."

"So Ethan's born of a werewolf again, huh?" I sneered, the taste of his name still bitter on my tongue. My mind churned with thoughts of his rebirth, of the cycle repeating once more. "What pack is he from?"

Lucinda's eyes flashed with knowledge as she answered, "He was born to an Alpha from the Starlight Pack, a pack of royal-blood werewolves who were exiled by King Peter. Scattered for good measure, to ensure they wouldn’t come together and overthrow him."

"Royal blood, exiled?" I mused aloud, a wicked smile creeping across my lips. "How fitting." The Starlight Pack, a forgotten threat, lying in wait. The perfect tool for my plans.

"But Lucinda," I growled, turning to her with a steely gaze. "Ethan and Sabine must not meet. I don’t care what it takes, keep them away from each other. Do. You. Understand?"

Her head bowed, her posture stiff. "Yes, Your Grace. I will ensure it."

I barked, "Do whatever you must. The prophecy will not come to pass—not while I still have the power to stop it."My voice echoed through the room, the cold promise of chaos lingering in the air.

The modern world might have changed, but it had not forgotten me. And with this prophecy, a new game had begun—one I intended to win.