"That is Royal blood!" Elder Bram screamed, pointing a trembling finger at my throat.
"Impossible," a visiting Alpha barked, shoving past a banquet table to get a closer look. "The Royal line ended a century ago."
I pressed my palm against the side of my neck. The skin no longer blistered from Kane's rejection. Instead, raised, smooth ridges pulsed beneath my fingertips. I dragged my nails across the silver glow, expecting it to wipe away like cheap paint. It didn't budge. The light embedded itself deep into my veins, forming a complex, glowing crest.
"It is real," Bram insisted, dropping to his knees. His forehead touched the cold marble floor. "The silver wolf has returned."
"Get up!" Sasha shrieked from the dais. She kicked at Bram's discarded cane, sending it skittering across the stone. "She is a fraud! Kane told you all what she is. A useless cripple!"
I stepped toward the dais. Sasha scrambled backward, her stolen gold silk dress tangling around her ankles.
"Kane called me useless last winter," I said, my voice carrying over the panicked murmurs of the crowd. "He tore the winter cloak I sewed for my son and threw it straight into the fire. He told everyone I was a broken vessel."
Sasha gripped the edge of the shattered marble, her eyes darting around the room for support. "You are broken! You cannot shift!"
"I believed him," I told her, shifting my gaze to Dorian.
My son stood completely frozen near the steps, his knuckles white around the velvet cushion.
"For ten years, I locked myself in my room during every full moon," I said to Dorian, ignoring the murmuring Alphas. "I listened to the rest of you howl. I thought the border war killed my wolf. I thought saving those warriors drained my spirit entirely."
Dorian swallowed hard. "Mom..."
"My wolf never died," I said, pressing two fingers against the glowing silver crest on my neck. The energy surged, warm and absolute, pushing back the cold draft of the hall. "Kane knew exactly what I was. He forced his mating mark over this crest to suffocate my bloodline. He chained a Royal to keep himself in power."
Gasps erupted across the banquet hall.
"Treason," a woman whispered near the back doors.
"He bound a Royal," another Alpha said, his voice trembling. He dropped heavily to one knee.
Within seconds, the remaining dignitaries followed. The heavy thud of knees hitting the stone floor echoed through the vast room. The Blackstone guards dropped their weapons, bowing their heads. Even Dorian sank down, the crystal crown sliding off the cushion and rolling away to hit a table leg.
Sasha stood alone on the dais, surrounded by kneeling wolves. She looked down at Kane's unconscious, bleeding body, then back at me.
"Do not bow to her!" Sasha yelled, her voice cracking into a pathetic whine. "I am the Luna! I wear the gold!"
A chair scraped loudly against the stone near the back of the dais.
The sound sliced through Sasha's hysteria. Everyone froze.
A tall figure rose from the iron throne reserved for the High King.
He wore a heavy black cloak. The fabric swept over the steps as he descended. The torches flared brighter, illuminating his sharp jaw and piercing golden eyes.
"Step aside," the man commanded.
Sasha stumbled out of his path, her fake bravado crumbling instantly. She pressed her back against the stone wall, terrified.
The man walked past Kane's broken form without a single glance. He moved down the center aisle. The kneeling Alphas bowed their heads lower, pressing their faces toward the floor.
I stood my ground. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I kept my chin raised.
He stopped two feet in front of me.
Up close, I recognized him. Kael. The rumored exiled prince, a ghost whispered about in border taverns and late-night guard patrols. I had never seen him in person, yet his presence demanded absolute submission.
Kael stared at my face for a long second. He didn't look at my tattered velvet dress or the frayed hem. He looked directly into my eyes.
Then, the man who commanded the entire room lowered himself to the floor.
His knee hit the marble with a solid thud.
"Kael," I whispered, the name slipping out before I could stop it.
"Seven years," he said, his voice a low, hoarse rasp.
He reached out. His large, calloused hands gently enveloped my right hand. The warmth of his skin sent a jolt up my arm, chasing away the last lingering chill of Kane's rejection.
"What do you mean?" I asked, staring down at his bowed head.
Kael looked up. The golden irises gleamed with a violent, contained intensity.
"I watched from the borders," Kael answered, his grip tightening slightly on my fingers. "I watched that coward parade you around as a trophy while he drained your life."
"You knew about the mark?"
"I knew your blood," Kael corrected him. He brought my hand toward his face. "I waited seven years for this rotting mark to die. I waited for you to break the chain."
He pressed his lips to the back of my fingers.
The kiss burned hotter than the silver crest on my neck.
A choked sob broke the silence. Sasha fell to her knees on the dais, finally realizing the magnitude of her mistake.
"My King," Elder Bram croaked from the floor. "The Royal blood has returned to the throne."
"She is the throne," Kael stated, not breaking eye contact with me.
He stood up, towering over the kneeling crowd. He kept my hand secured in his.
"Alpha Kane of Blackstone broke a fated oath," Kael announced to the room, his voice projecting effortlessly. "He suppressed a Royal bloodline. By our laws, his life is forfeit."
"No!" Dorian shouted, jumping up from the floor. He ran toward us, stopping a few feet away. "You can't kill my father!"
I stepped in front of Kael. "Dorian, stay back."
"Tell him, Mom!" Dorian pleaded, pointing at Kael. "Tell him to spare Kane! You owe us that much!"
"I owe you nothing," I said, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. "I gave you everything, and you handed my crown to a thief."
"He is still my father," Dorian argued, his face flushing red. "You are just being spiteful because he chose Sasha."
Kael shifted his weight. "Boy, speak to your mother with respect, or I will remove your tongue."
Dorian flinched, shrinking back into the crowd of kneeling wolves.
"Leave him," I told Kael softly. "He made his choice."
I turned my attention back to the man standing beside me. The silver light on my neck pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat.
"Why did you come here tonight, Kael?" I asked.
"To claim what belongs to the crown," he replied.
He reached out, his fingers brushing the frayed collar of my dress. He traced the edge of the silver crest, his touch feather-light.
Suddenly, Kael's hand froze.
The golden intensity in his eyes fractured. His jaw clamped shut.
He leaned in closer, his chest brushing against my shoulder.
"It's bleeding," Kael whispered, his voice so low only I could hear it. "Your bloodline is bleeding, which means..."
