THE FORSAKEN LYCAN PRINCESS.

CH 31..

My hands shook so violently the heavy parchment rustled in the quiet room.

The blood-red wax seal snapped beneath my thumbs, the faint, sweet scent of crushed lavender and enchanted ink drifting upward into my face. Slowly, painfully, I unrolled the thick vellum, my eyes stinging with fresh tears as I looked down at the shimmering black and gold script flowing across the page.

It was an ancient, official document, the sacred, original Birth and Lineage Certificate that every true child of the royal pack received at birth.

The golden ink seemed to pulse with a faint, magical warmth against the parchment, each letter burning into my retinas like liquid fire.

ROYAL LINEAGE AND BIRTH CERTIFICATE

By the sacred ancestral laws of Silverwood and the High Alpha Codex, Be it officially recorded and sealed into the eternal pack register:

Full Name: ELARA EVELYN SILVERWOOD Status: Legitimate Royal Firstborn Princess

Maternal Line: Late Luna Evelyn Silverwood

Paternal Line: Alpha King Raymond Silverwood

My breath hitched violently in my throat. The words blurred before my eyes as a dry, choking sob caught in my chest.

Legitimate Royal Firstborn Princess.

For twenty-three long years, I had never even seen this paper. When a royal child was born in Silverwood, their birth certificate was publicly displayed in the Grand Archives, granting them their birthright, their royal protection, and their rightful place in the pack hierarchy. But because Raymond hated me from the day I was born, he had withheld it, leaving me as a nameless, broken phantom.

For more than twenty agonizing, torment-filled years, I had been forced to sleep on the cold stones of the cellar, forced to scrub the blood and mud off my half-sister’s boots, forced to bear the cruel beatings of Victoria and the cold, unyielding disgust of my father. I had cried myself to sleep a thousand nights, begging the Goddess to just let me hold the proof that I was truly his daughter.

Now, here it was. Held in my hands for the very first time.

My full name was written in dark, shimmering gold. Late Luna Evelyn Silverwood. My mother's name, stamped into the official royal registry. I was not a mongrel. I was not a curse. I was the true firstborn royal princess of Silverwood, and this piece of paper was the legal proof I had been denied my entire life.

"You see, my sweet child?" Raymond’s voice purred softly beside me, his large, warm hand coming down to rest gently on my shoulder. His thumb rubbed soothing circles against the crimson silk of my gown, his face practically radiant with a father’s pride.

"I have held onto this, waiting for the right moment. You are a true princess of this realm, Elara. My firstborn."

Victoria glided over, placing a delicate, jewel-adorned hand on my other shoulder, beaming down at me like a doting mother.

"We have kept your official status protected for so long, Elara. But today, you take your rightful place."

My heart hammered against my ribs like a frantic drum. For a fleeting, fragile second, a dizzying wave of pure, unadulterated relief washed over my shattered soul. The childhood dream I had buried deep in the dark cellars, the desperate wish to be loved, to be accepted by my father, to finally hold the proof that I belonged, threatened to burst through the cold wall around my heart.

He loves me, a small, pathetic voice whispered inside my head. He kept my birthright safe all along.

But then, my eyes drifted downward. Past the grand seal, past Raymond’s dark, sweeping signature, down to the bottom margin of the sacred parchment where the fine, densely packed black ink was written in ancient High Lycan script.

My stomach dropped into a bottomless, freezing void.

My mind, trained by years of reading disused political ledgers in the dusty archives, decoded the legal phrasing with terrifying, crystal clarity.

SECTION IV: SPECIAL LINEAGE DISPOSITION As a confirmed and recognized Royal Princess of the ruling bloodline via official Birth Certificate, the individual designated above carries the sole, absolute legal capacity to act as the primary anchor for all territorial covenants, high-rank diplomatic exchanges, and bloodline cessions as mandated by the Pack Sovereignty Law.

Furthermore, by holding official royal status, the Royal Princess acknowledges that her title grants the ruling Alpha King absolute, irrevocable authority to assign, transfer, or surrender her person to foreign sovereign courts as a binding political hostage or envoy, without the requirement of Council review or personal consent.

The air was instantly sucked straight out of my lungs.

The room tilted violently. The warm, cedar-scented air of the High Solar felt like liquid ice sliding down my throat.

The calculated, cruel truth hit me like a physical blow.

He hadn't withheld this paper for twenty-three years out of sheer hatred alone; he had saved it for this exact moment. An unranked, wolf-less outcast without a birth certificate couldn't be handed over under the ancient laws. The ancient magic and whatever dark, terrifying entity was coming for the blood debt tomorrow night, demanded a legitimate, legally documented royal princess.

He hadn't brought out my birth certificate to make me happy. He had revealed it because without it, I was useless as a trade piece.

They needed my official royal blood to satisfy the debt so that Tanya wouldn't have to.

The lavish bath, the fragrant salves, the crimson silk gown, the trunks of jewels, the gentle smiles, the warm hugs... every single second of this twisted morning was a terrifying, cold-blooded stage play designed to make me compliant long enough to validate the sacrifice.

A sickening, suffocating wave of nausea crashed through my chest. I stared at the golden words Princess Elara, my whole body trembling so hard the parchment rattled loudly in my grip.

"Elara?" Raymond’s voice murmured, his tone still dripping with that fake, sickening sweet affection. He reached over to his mahogany desk, picking up a second, smaller parchment scroll bound with a dark, blood-red velvet ribbon, alongside an ornate silver quill dipped in black magical ink.

He stepped closer, holding the silver quill out to my trembling fingers, his golden eyes shining with a warm, fatherly grin that now looked entirely demonic.

"Now that your birthright is confirmed and your royal status is absolute, there is just one final formality for tomorrow's grand journey," Raymond said softly, leaning down so his face was inches from mine, his smile unwavering.

He placed the second scroll over my lap, unrolling the top header to reveal a stark, ominous title stamped in blood-wax: DIPLOMATIC ENVOY & BLOODLINE TRANSFER DECREE.

"Sign this accompanying transfer document, my sweet princess," Raymond whispered, his voice smooth as venom, pressing the heavy silver quill directly into my frozen hand.

"Confirm your upcoming journey for our pack... and complete your duty to your father."