Aevren surprisingly honored his word, keeping my masquerade as Ryker strictly confidential. Because of his silence, I managed to navigate the remainder of my tenure at the alpha academy largely unbothered, even in the crushing emptiness left by Fheraen’s absence.
“The Ruby Line Pack produced twin heirs, both groomed with identical alpha training—yet a territory only requires a single ruler. Doesn’t that strike you as redundant?” I muttered under my breath one afternoon, having recently discovered that Fheraen’s twin, Dherael, had also attended this very institution the previous year.
“Those cousins were bred for conquest. Instead of dissecting their family tree, you should be watching your own back before they swallow your pack whole,” Aevren’s voice cut across the open air as he materialized near the riverbank a short distance away.
“So, which of the two is slated for the alpha seat?” I pressed, despite already hearing rumors that Dherael, the older twin, held the primary claim to the Ruby Line succession.
Aevren flashed a sardonic smirk. “Panicking that it might not be Fheraen, are we?” he deflected, tossing the question right back into my lap.
“I merely find it peculiar that both brothers wound up cycling through this academy,” I retorted, ignoring his jab.
“You’ll swim in enough chaos soon enough,” Aevren replied vaguely, his gaze locked straight ahead, refusing to look my way.
I eventually abandoned the search for answers. Strangely enough, digital footprints for people of our status were tightly controlled; Fheraen had no public social media footprint, and the Ruby Line Pack’s official archives offered virtually nothing on him beyond basic registry data.
Time slipped away until the long-awaited morning of my graduation finally arrived. Yet, a heavy sense of foreboding settled in my gut—none of the Sapphire Pack's envoys had shown up to escort me home, and my repeated calls to Zane went straight to voicemail.
Left with no alternative, I packed my gear and boarded a standard public bus. After a grueling year away, I was finally returning to the Sapphire Pack, fully prepared to claim my birthright and lead.
I stepped off the transit bus into the biting midnight chill. The massive iron gates of our territory stood in eerie, dead silence—no ceremonial banners, no welcoming committee, no sign of life. But exhaustion outweighed my suspicions; all I craved was sleep.
Approaching our ancestral mansion, I found it deceptively quiet, though the household staff had clearly maintained the grounds in my absence.
“Why wasn’t there a carriage or a car sent to pick me up? Didn’t Zane get my messages about today?” I demanded, my voice raspy. A full year of daily medicinal drafts prescribed by Dr. Zerry had permanently ruined my vocal cords, forcing me to keep my rasp low. I still hadn't dared to remove my mask.
The servants merely exchanged pale, nervous glances. I frowned, noting how drastically this cold reception contrasted with the warmth of my father’s reign.
Dismissing them with a wave, I ordered a proper breakfast prepared for the morning, specifically requesting all of Ryker’s favorite dishes, before retiring to my quarters, too drained to untangle the oddities.
The next morning, my first priority was tracking down Zane. Hearing he was holding court at the main packhouse, I headed straight there. But the moment I stepped past the grand oak doors, I froze dead in my tracks.
My uncle, the pack’s trusted beta, was lounging casually on the alpha’s throne. The cavernous hall was entirely empty except for him.
“Welcome home, Freya. So you’ve finally crawled back after a year of exile,” his voice boomed, ricocheting cruelly off the stone walls.
“Exile?” I bristled, stepping forward with a scowl. “What in the Goddess's name do you think you’re doing in my father’s seat?” The words slipped out before I could check my temper, though a sickening part of me hoped this was some grotesque joke.
Zane erupted into harsh, unhinged laughter, echoing like a madman drunk on power.
“Freya, I warned you a year ago: the moment your little masquerade collapsed, I would claim the alpha’s crown. The pack knows everything now, they know you’re nothing more than an ambitious fraud who tried to hijack Ryker’s rightful place,” Zane declared, every syllable landing like a physical blow.
The realization hit me with suffocating force. I had foolishly believed Zane was my shield, my family’s steadfast guardian. He had once been my father’s most loyal advisor. But the man before me was a stranger, a traitor who had orchestrated my banishment to a brutal alpha academy simply to clear his own path to the throne.
“You treacherous bastard, Zane!”
I knew instantly that my true identity had been leaked to the entire pack, and that Zane was the architect of this betrayal.
The man erupted into triumphant, mocking laughter, entirely intoxicated by his premature victory. But I had no intention of rolling over. Today, I would tear down his usurped authority and reclaim the alpha's seat that was rightfully mine.
It mattered little to me if the pack now knew that the heir who had been leading them was a woman. There was no ancient, binding law stating that an alpha had to be male—only an entrenched patriarchal tradition passed down by ancestors, a systemic bias I refused to accept as absolute.
Fueled by a white-hot surge of adrenaline, I shifted into my wolf form. Zane transformed just as my razor-sharp claws nearly sliced open his throat. We clashed in a brutal, bone-crushing duel that sent furniture splintering across the hall. Tactically speaking, Zane possessed years of veteran cunning, but tonight, my raw, unyielding rage made me stronger.
Cornered by my relentless assault, Zane crashed straight through the reinforced glass window, his bulky frame catapulting outward in a desperate bid to escape.
Our brawl had already drawn a crowd. Several pack members gasped aloud when a magnificent golden-furred wolf burst into view, a coat so rare it was restricted exclusively to the elite bloodlines of Alpha William, Alpha Leonor, myself, and Ryker. Even Oliver and Olivia, Alpha William’s twin offspring, had not been blessed with it.
According to pack lore, that radiant golden pelt belonged solely to the true, predestined ruler of the Sapphire Pack.
“Alpha Leonor only fathered one son, so where in the Goddess’s name did another golden wolf come from? Did he keep a secret bastard child?”
“I heard Freya broke her body seal and awakened her wolf form. Could that actually be her?”
Murmurs rippled through the onlookers as I surged forward in pursuit of Zane, but curse his cowardice—he had already melted into the shadows. By now, the news of my return had detonated across the territory.
“Seize the golden wolf! She’s the fraud who’s been masquerading as Ryker!” roared an unfamiliar omega. Though I didn’t recognize him, I had no doubt he was one of Zane’s hired lackeys.
They swarmed me from all sides. Despite fighting with every ounce of my strength, I was eventually overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Bound in humiliation, I was dragged out to the central execution post, where heavy silver-infused wire was wrapped cruelly around my frame.
Zane materialized from the pack, wearing a sickening grin of satisfaction as he looked down at my helpless form.
“As the reigning Alpha of the Sapphire Pack, I sentence this traitorous impostor who hid behind Ryker’s name to immediate execution!” Zane bellowed, pointing a finger straight at my chest.
I couldn’t even force words past my throat. The silver bindings hissed as they burned into my flesh; a single deep tear from the metal could poison my system and kill me within minutes.
“Are you out of your mind, Zane?” Wilson stepped forward, his voice cutting through the murmurs. “You were just a low-ranking beta yesterday, and now you crown yourself alpha? Where is the mandatory council with the Elders?”
My breath hitched. Wilson, half-paralyzed from a severe stroke, a former beta and still deeply respected Elder, was defending me—indirectly, at least. Even if he was merely upholding traditional protocol, it was enough. He wasn’t blindly bowing to Zane’s coup.
“You dare question my authority, Wilson?” Zane’s eyes narrowed into venomous slits. “The pack has already accepted me as alpha.”
“My point,” Wilson countered with unshakable dignity, “is that execution is a barbaric overreaction. She is Alpha Leonor’s only surviving daughter, and the granddaughter of the legendary Alpha William of Amberbridge. Have you completely forgotten his bloodline?”
His words sent a visible tremor through the assembly. Whispers of dissent rippled outward, the crowd's sympathy forming a fragile lifeline I desperately clung to.
“Just banish her from the territory!” someone shouted from the back.
“Yes! Exile is punishment enough if execution is too extreme.”
And just like that, I was cast out from the very lands I was destined to rule—a disgraceful fate for any true alpha. Yet, pride burned hotter than my wounds.
I was the true golden heir, fated to lead this pack, even if I had to do it as a woman wearing a mask.
Standing at the threshold of my home, I stepped past our borders into the cold wilderness, swearing a silent oath: I would return, and when I did, my power would be absolute.
