Unwanted By The Alpha, Honored By The Queen

Ten years ago, a forged letter of treason was found under my bed.

My father, the Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack, exiled me into the frozen mountains without a second thought to save his own reputation.

Now, they suddenly summoned me back to the manor.

I thought they had finally discovered my innocence, but the truth was sickening. My father's lungs were failing, and they desperately needed my healing skills to save his life.

Worse yet, my half-sister Serena—the one who had planted the fake letters—was parading around in stolen jewels, preparing for her grand mating ceremony.

And my fated mate, Lucien, who had stood by and watched me get dragged away in the snow, was now a celebrated Alpha.

My family didn't just want me to heal my father. They planned to use my broken mate bond to demand a massive fifty thousand gold coin compensation from Lucien's pack to save their own bankrupt territory.

They threw me away like garbage, and now they wanted to sell my broken heart for gold.

They still thought I was that weak, pathetic Omega who would cry and beg for their love and acceptance.

But ten years in the wild had awakened the ancient White Wolf inside me.

I stepped into the Great Hall, pulled out my High Healer badge, and slammed the original forged letters onto the table.

"I do not want your gold, and I have no duty to this pack."

This time, I was going to tear their perfect lies apart.

Chapter 1

Elara POV:

The thick, wet mist of the Healers' Sanctuary condensed into cold beads on the coarse weave of my linen cloak. From the valley's edge, I regarded the scene below: a cumbersome timber coach, harnessed to four immense black horses whose breath plumed in the damp air. Emblazoned on the carriage door was the tarnishing silver crest of the Silvermoon Pack—a crescent moon entwined with vines. A silent assembly of warriors stood guard, clad in stiff, oiled leather and bearing the weight of unpolished iron broadswords. At their head stood Kael, my older brother and Beta to the pack, an enforcer of the very laws that had cast me out.

Ten years had carved new lines into his face.

"Elara of the Silvermoon," Kael's voice was a deep toll of sound in the valley's stillness.

I did not move. I did not look at his eyes, my gaze settling on a loose thread on his expensive velvet coat. "I do not use that name anymore," I heard my own voice echo back, like the crunch of dry twigs, devoid of inflection. "I am just Elara."

A muscle jumped in Kael's jaw, a small, frustrated tremor.

"Father is dying," Kael stated, the words clipped and formal. "His lungs are failing. The Royal Healers can do nothing. You must come back."

My knuckles went white around the handle of my medical case. I remembered the scrape of that same Alpha's quill as he signed the parchment that banished me—on the pretense of letters from rogue wolves discovered beneath my mattress. I had been an Omega then, a thing of no consequence, easily discarded to preserve the family's honor.

"The Lycan Queen has issued a royal pardon for all exiles," Kael added into my silence. "You are free to return."

My gaze traveled from the deep pile of his velvet coat to the drab, threadbare wool of my own dress.

"I have my tools," I said. "Let us go."

Kael's lip curled with distaste as he looked at my scuffed leather case. He made a sharp, dismissive gesture to one of his warriors.

"Go to the village market," Kael commanded. "Purchase a silk dress for her. A dark color, suitable for a noblewoman. We cannot present her at the castle looking like a mendicant."

I offered no argument, turning my head for a final look at the mist-shrouded valley. In the deep shadows of the pines, the Elder of the Sanctuary was watching. He met my gaze and tapped a withered hand over his heart—a silent command. Do not hide the wolf inside you any longer. Let the White Wolf breathe. I inclined my head in a gesture of profound respect before turning and ascending into the coach.

For three days the coach lumbered over rutted dirt roads that cut through dark, ancient forests. On the third day, we stopped at a roadside inn, the air within thick with the smell of cheap ale and scorched meat.

Across the wooden table, Kael was watching me. The dry bread was like sawdust in my mouth, and I ignored his gaze. Then, a familiar pressure brushed against the edges of my consciousness—a Mind-Link, the silent bridge of thought used by wolves of the same pack.

Elara, Kael's voice intruded into the privacy of my mind. Are you still angry about the past?

I did not flinch, but let it hover at the edge of my consciousness before, like shutting a rusted iron gate, I slammed the connection shut.

Kael gasped, the fork clattering from his fingers onto the plate. He stared at me, his shock palpable; a Beta's mental command was formidable, and I had severed it without effort.

"You have changed," Kael whispered.

"Ten years in the cold mountains will change anyone," I said aloud.

Kael cleared his throat and took a sip of water.

"You should know," he began, his words measured, "that the Crescent Pack thrives. Alpha Lucien does well."

The name produced no tremor in my hand, no catch in my breath. Lucien. The mate the Moon Goddess had decreed for me. Ten years ago, he had believed the lies. He had stood before the entire pack and watched as they drove the knife of their judgment into my name, a wound that still ached with a phantom cold whenever the snows fell.

"He is to form a new bond," Kael said, his eyes searching my face for a reaction. "His chosen mate is from a powerful allied pack. The Marking ceremony is next month."

I turned my gaze to the grimy windowpane of the inn, to the bleak landscape beyond. The White Wolf inside me was not a frozen lake; it was a glacier, ancient and unmoving.

"His neck is of no consequence to me," I said, my voice flat.

The tension eased from his shoulders. He leaned forward.

"Good," he repeated. "Because your half-sister, Serena, is to be wed at the month's end."

I slowly turned my head, the motion deliberate, and met his eyes. Serena. The name was a foul taste in my memory—the glint of my mother's stolen jewelry on her throat, the faint, cloying scent of her perfume lingering in my room after the false letters had been planted.

"She is to have her mating ceremony with Alpha Cedric," Kael continued, "Lucien's younger brother. Our two packs will at last be united."

His eyes began to glow with a faint yellow light, and the air in the small room grew thick and heavy, pressing down on my shoulders like a physical weight—the subtle application of a Beta's dominance.

"Do not speak of the old case when we arrive," he commanded. "You were brought back to heal Father, and to ensure Serena's ceremony proceeds without incident. Do not jeopardize our pack's alliance."

I did not shrug off the pressure. I allowed him the illusion of his control.

"I am here only to practice medicine," I said softly.

But as Kael turned to settle the bill with the innkeeper, tossing gold coins onto the counter, I felt a slow, aching expansion deep in my spine, something that had been dormant for a decade stretching its limbs between my vertebrae, pumping scalding blood into my fingertips. They thought they were bringing home a broken Omega. They had no idea what was waking up inside me.