THE FORSAKEN LYCAN PRINCESS.

CH 3..

The deep, velvety blackness of midnight did not bring peace to the Silverwood pack house; it only thickened the shadows, making the massive stone halls feel less like a royal fortress and more like a mausoleum. The guests had long since departed, their carriage wheels leaving deep tracks in the muddy gravel outside, and the rest of the hierarchy had retreated to their respective quarters, exhausted by the day’s heavy display of mandatory grief.

I was left alone in the dark.

My hands, slick with cold water and stinging from the harsh oils used to polish the grand banquet tables, moved mechanically. As an ‘unranked Omega’, my chores never truly ended, but tonight, the physical exhaustion was a mercy compared to the chaotic storm raging inside my head. The echo of my father’s public weeping at the Lunar Altar still vibrated through my bones, a hollow, bitter performance that I couldn't stop replaying.

Having finished clearing the lower levels, I took the heavy wooden bucket and the silver-polishing rags, quietly moving up the narrow, winding servant stairs that bypassed the grand corridors. My final task of the night was to tend to the sconces and heavy brass fixtures lining the corridor outside the Alpha’s private study, a sacred, dangerous territory where the dominant scents of the pack’s rulers were so concentrated it made my muted wolf tremble in phantom fear.

The upper hallway was deathly quiet, illuminated only by the flickering, amber glow of dying torches. I knelt near the baseboards a few yards down from the heavy, brass-reinforced oak doors of the den, keeping my head low, my movements entirely silent.

And then, the silence was shattered.

It wasn't a physical sound at first, but a sudden, violent spike of dominant Lycan pheromones leaking through the cracks of the study door. The air grew thick, sour with the unmistakable scent of a Luna’s pure, unadulterated rage.

"Enough, Raymond! I have endured this humiliation for more than twenty years, but today was absolute madness!"

Luna Victoria’s voice pierced the thick oak, sharp as a silver blade and dripping with venom. She wasn't using the soft, submissive purr she practiced in front of the pack warriors. This was raw, unchecked malice.

I froze, my rag hovering inches from the brass fixture, my heart leaping into my throat. I held my breath, pressing my back against the cold stone wall, trying to make myself invisible in the shadows.

"You sat there," Victoria hissed, her footsteps pacing furiously inside the room, the sharp click of her heels echoing through the wood.

"In front of the entire Silverwood hierarchy, in front of my family, and in front of the visiting Alphas, you dropped to your knees and wept like a broken, unranked pup! You literally ridiculed yourself, Raymond! You humiliated me!"

"Watch your tongue, Victoria," Raymond’s voice rumbled in response, a low, terrifying vibration that made the very floorboards beneath my knees tremble. The sheer gravity of his Alpha authority was thick enough to suffocate, even through the barrier of the door.

"You speak of a sacred rite. You speak of the true Luna."

"I am the true Luna!" she shrieked, her control completely fracturing.

"I have been the Luna of this pack for over two decades! I have shared your bed, I have managed your lands, I have borne you a legitimate, flawless princess in Tanya, yet every single year, you shove that dead woman's memory in my face! You parade her ghost through the territory and force us all to bow to an empty altar!"

I sat paralyzed in the dark, my eyes wide as the raw vitriol unfolded.

"Today was not a remembrance; it was a public execution of my dignity," Victoria snarled, her voice catching with a bitter, hysterical edge.

"You wept for her. You screamed her name as if the woman who currently wears the pack crest does not even exist. You stood there and practically told the entire supernatural world that no one, not even the woman who has stood by your side for twenty years, will ever take her place. You treat me like a placeholder, Raymond! A shadow living in a corpse's kingdom!"

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the room. The air outside in the corridor felt frozen, charging with the terrifying anticipation of an Alpha King's retaliation.

When Raymond finally spoke, his voice wasn't a roar. It was something far worse. It was a cold, absolute, and unyielding decree that carried the finality of a death sentence.

"You are the Luna of this pack because the laws demanded a woman sit the throne and also because I chose you, Victoria,"

Ny father stated, each word dropping like lead.

"But do not ever confuse your title with her position. Evelyn was my fated mate. She was the other half of my soul, chosen by the Moon Goddess Herself. Her place in this heart, in this kingdom, and in my mind will never be replaced, whether you like it or not. You can wear her crown, you can sleep in this fortress, but you will never be her."

A sharp, collective gasp seemed to echo through the silence of the room, the sound of Victoria’s pride being completely annihilated.

"We are done here," Raymond growled.

The heavy brass handle of the door clicked violently. I scrambled backward into the deepest recess of the servant alcove, pressing my frame into the darkness just as the heavy oak doors swung open. Alpha Raymond strode out, his massive frame radiating a volatile, explosive fury that practically scorched the air. He didn't look down the hall; his amber eyes were fixed straight ahead as he stormed down the grand staircase, his heavy cloak billowing behind him like the wings of a dark predator, leaving the corridor ringing with the echo of his angry, heavy footsteps.

Inside the study, a muffled, choked sob of pure, vengeful hatred escaped Victoria before the door slammed shut once more, leaving the upper floor in a state of absolute, ringing silence.

I sat alone in the shadows, the silver-polishing cloth limp in my hand, my mind completely reeling. The jaw-dropping brutality of their argument vibrated in my chest.

He still loves her that much, I thought, a profound, conflicting ache blooming deep within the locked cavern of my soul.

For twenty-three years, I had known nothing but my father’s coldness, his physical abuse, and the terrifying weight of his Alpha commands. I had grown up hating the very sight of him, viewing him as a heartless monster who took pleasure in my torment. But hearing the raw, bleeding agony in his voice when he defended my mother's memory, hearing him destroy his current wife's pride just to keep Evelyn's name sacred, changed everything.

A strange, heartbreaking realization washed over me. In a world governed by the cosmic, unbreakable pull of the fated mate bond, Raymond wasn't just a tyrant. He was a man whose soul had been violently ripped in half. The love he had carried for my mother was so monstrously vast, so all-consuming, that its sudden absence had driven him completely mad.

And as I looked down at my own scarred, raw palms, a wave of profound, tragic grace washed over my perception of him.

He is justified, I whispered internally, the thought tasting like tears and ash. He has every right to hate me.

The bitter, unyielding truth settled deep into my bones. If I had never been born, Luna Evelyn would still be drawing breath. She would be sitting by his side, radiating her warm, regal grace, keeping the pack whole and keeping his soul intact. I wasn't just an inconvenient child; I was the physical executioner of his happiness. I had literally killed the only woman he had ever truly loved just by entering the world.

If the price of my existence was the death of his queen, then his hatred wasn't just cruelty, it was the natural consequence of a broken universe. I closed my eyes, letting the darkness of the corridor swallow me whole, fully accepting the crushing weight of the blame I had spent my entire life trying to outrun.