Chapter 5 The Royal Welcome

• ​The journey from the Forbidden Woods to the Lycan Kingdom was not a mere walk through the trees; it felt like a passage between worlds.
• ​As Silas led Anna through a shimmering veil of mist, the temperature shifted. The damp, oppressive chill of the Silver Moon territory vanished, replaced by an air that tasted of ozone, ancient stone, and blooming night-jasmine.
• ​"Where are we?" Anna whispered, clutching Silas’s cloak tightly. The fabric was so heavy it nearly dragged on the ground, but the scent of him—winter frost and dominance—was the only thing keeping her upright.
• ​"You are in the Heart of the Moon, Anna," Silas said, his voice a low vibration that seemed to steady her trembling legs. "The Silver Moon Pack is a drop of water in an ocean compared to what lies ahead."
• ​They rounded a high, obsidian ridge, and Anna’s breath left her.
• ​Below them lay the Lycan Citadel. It wasn't a collection of wooden cabins and a central pack house like she was used to. It was a sprawling, tiered city carved directly into the white peaks of the Iron Mountains. Buildings of pale marble and silver glass reached for the stars, illuminated by floating spheres of golden light that mirrored the energy Anna had felt during her shift.
• ​"It’s... it’s beautiful," she breathed.
• ​"It has waited for its Queen for a thousand years," Silas murmured, his violet eyes fixed on her face rather than the city. "And the people have waited even longer."
• ​As they descended the mountain path, the massive silver gates of the city began to grind open. Standing there was a phalanx of warriors. They were taller, broader, and more terrifying than any Alpha warrior Anna had ever seen. Their eyes were various shades of gold and violet, marking them as true Lycans—the apex predators of the supernatural world.
• ​Anna shrank back, her old instincts as an "Omega" screaming at her to find a corner and hide. She expected them to snarl. She expected them to demand to know why a "worthless" girl was wearing their King’s cloak.
• ​Instead, as Silas stepped into the light of the gateway, the lead warrior—a man with a scar across his eye and shoulders like a mountain—stepped forward and slammed his fist against his chest.
• ​"The King returns!" the warrior roared.
• ​And then, to Anna’s absolute shock, every single warrior in the phalanx dropped to one knee. Their heads bowed in a synchronized wave of absolute submission.
• ​"My King," the lead warrior said, his voice thick with emotion. "And... our Queen. The Sun has truly returned to us."
• ​Anna’s heart hammered. "They're... they're kneeling? To me?"
• ​"They aren't kneeling to a girl, Anna," Silas said, placing a steadying hand on the small of her back. "They are kneeling to the bloodline that holds the power of the stars. They are kneeling to you."
• ​They walked through the streets of the upper city toward the High Palace. News of their arrival seemed to travel faster than the wind. Doors flew open, and Lycan citizens spilled onto the balconies and cobblestones. They didn't point or laugh. They didn't throw coins or insults.
• ​As Anna passed, women with silver hair and children with wide, glowing eyes pressed their hands to their hearts and bowed low. Some were weeping.
• ​"Why are they crying?" Anna asked, her voice cracking.
• ​"Because for eighteen years, the world has been in shadow," Silas explained. "Without a Golden Lycan to anchor the Lycan Throne, our magic has been fading. Our children were being born weaker. The rogues were gaining ground. You aren't just a mate, Anna. You are the survival of our species."
• ​They reached the palace—a structure of white stone and glass that seemed to grow out of the very peak of the mountain. Silas led her inside, past tapestries that depicted the history of the Lycan Kings and the Sun Queens of old.
• ​He stopped in front of a pair of towering double doors guarded by two female warriors in silver armor.
• ​"Take her to the Queen’s Suite," Silas commanded. "Prepare the bath. Bring the silk. And find Mistress Hestia."
• ​The warriors bowed. "At once, Alpha King."
• ​Anna felt a sudden spike of panic as Silas began to turn away. "Wait! Don't leave me."
• ​Silas paused, his expression softening into something so tender it made Anna’s chest ache. He stepped closer, reaching out to brush a stray, golden strand of hair from her forehead. His touch sent a spark of pure, comforting heat through her body—the true mate bond, awakening fully now that they were on sacred ground.
• ​"I will never leave you, little star," he promised, his voice a low growl of possessiveness. "I have matters of war to attend to. Alpha Caine’s pups are currently trespassing in the Forbidden Woods, looking for a girl who no longer exists. I must ensure they understand that the Lycan border is a line of fire."
• ​The mention of Caine made Anna’s blood turn cold for a second, but then she remembered the golden fire in her veins. She remembered the way Caine had stepped over her broken body.
• ​"Kill them," she whispered, the words surprising even herself.
• ​Silas’s violet eyes flared with a dark, predatory joy. He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to her temple. "As you wish, my Queen."
• ​The female warriors led Anna into a suite that was larger than the entire Silver Moon pack house. The floors were heated stone, and the walls were lined with books and jars of shimmering salts.
• ​In the center of the room stood a massive, silver-framed mirror.
• ​Anna walked toward it, her heart in her throat. She hadn't seen a mirror in years—Elena had forbidden them in the servant quarters.
• ​She let the heavy cloak fall from her shoulders.
• ​She stood there, naked and raw, but she didn't see the "invisible Omega" she expected.
• ​Her skin was no longer pale and sickly; it had a healthy, golden glow. Across her collarbones and down her spine were intricate, shimmering marks—tattoos of pure light that pulsed with the rhythm of her heart. Her eyes, once a dull brown, were now rings of liquid gold surrounding pupils that remained slightly slit.
• ​She looked powerful. She looked regal. She looked like a predator.
• ​A knock sounded at the door, and an older woman with silver hair piled high on her head entered. She carried a tray of oils and a dress of spun gold silk that looked as if it were made of liquid sunlight.
• ​"I am Hestia, the High Priestess," the woman said, her voice like velvet. She didn't bow; she walked straight to Anna and took her hands. "Welcome home, child. You have spent a long time in the dark."
• ​"I was a slave," Anna said, her voice shaking as she looked back at her reflection. "I scrubbed floors. I was nothing."
• ​Hestia smiled, a sad, knowing expression. "The moon is invisible during the new cycle, Anna. But that does not mean it has ceased to exist. It is simply gathering its strength to return."
• ​Hestia led her toward a massive sunken bath filled with steaming, fragrant water.
• ​"Tonight, we wash away the scent of suds and failure," Hestia said, beginning to unbind Anna’s matted hair. "Tonight, we prepare you for the coronation. And tomorrow... tomorrow we show the world that the Sun has risen."
• ​As Anna sank into the hot water, she felt the last lingering ache of Caine’s rejection dissolve. She closed her eyes, and for the first time in her life, she didn't dream of escape.
• ​She dreamed of fire. She dreamed of gold.
• ​And she dreamed of the look on Alpha Caine’s face when he realized that the "Omega" he had thrown to the rogues was now the woman who held the fate of every wolf pack in her hands.