A crown of scars

Malory’s POV:

The heavy oak doors of the chamber creaked open, and a towering figure stepped inside. His sheer presence was magnetic, radiating an ancient, quiet power that instantly made the vast, high-ceilinged room feel suddenly intimate, almost cramped.

“Alright, Elara. Don’t embarrass yourself in front of the children,” he murmured softly.

He approached the weeping woman, wrapping his broad arms around her trembling shoulders and murmuring words of comfort that gradually quieted her sobs.

Once she had calmed, his dark, piercing eyes held a tempest of unspoken emotions as they locked onto mine. With a hand that trembled despite his obvious efforts to appear stoic, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded sheet, handing it to me.

“Hello, daughter,” he said, his voice thick with a vulnerability he tried desperately to mask. “I know this is impossible to believe, but it is the absolute truth. I had the DNA test run at three separate facilities, and the results are identical.”

My chest tightened as I reached out to take the parchment. My fingers shook as my eyes scanned the bold lettering. The genetic markers were undeniable. These strangers—reigning in a palace of gold and marble—were indeed my biological parents.

A sudden dryness coated my throat, rendering me speechless.

For years, ever since Mr. and Mrs. Grenade gently broke the news that I was not their biological child, I had let my mind wander into forbidden fantasies. I had wondered who gave me life and if they would ever look for me.

I loved my adoptive parents with everything in me, yet there had always been an invisible, delicate barrier between us. They would yell at my brother, Rhy, when he got into trouble, but they always treated me with a fragile, polite gentleness—never once raising their voices. It was a kindness that, paradoxically, made me feel like an eternal guest in my own home.

The tall man stepped closer, his voice carrying the weight of a crown.

“I can officially confirm it now. You are the baby we lost eighteen years ago. Welcome home, Princess Seraphina.”

“You... I...” My voice failed me. I could only manage a few incoherent, breathless syllables.

Tears finally breached my lashes, spilling hot down my cheeks. After the harrowing nightmare I had just survived, waking up to find myself a royal princess felt like a cruel joke or a surreal plot pulled straight from a cheap fantasy novel.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” my father whispered, pulling me into a fierce, protective embrace, with my mother wrapping her arms around us both.

“I thought... I thought I was dead,” I sobbed, the tears completely blurring my vision as the sheer shock of surviving the cliffside river crashed over me.

My mother’s soft fingers gently brushed against my cheek. Her vibrant green eyes, an exact mirror of my own, shone with a tender, watery smile.

“Silly child. You are a Lycan. A true royal. Do you really think a fall like that could take your life so easily?”

A Lycan?

The revelation hit me like a physical blow, sending my mind spinning. For eighteen years, my entire reality had been built on the fact that I was human.

“I... I always believed I was human,” I stammered.

“How could you be?” My father’s brow furrowed, his expression momentarily darkening into something terrifyingly regal. “You carry the scent of the rare orchid, child. That is the sacred mark of the Lycan royal bloodline.”

He leaned in closer, his protective instincts flaring.

“Did someone do this to you? Sweetheart, please tell your worried parents why you were so severely broken, and how you came to be swept down that violent river. If our i hadn't pulled you from the banks, we would have lost you forever.”

I had spent years burying my pain, convincing myself that I was strong enough to handle the isolation of being the pack's weakest link. But the moment I felt the unconditional warmth of their concern, the dam broke.

I wept loudly, letting years of suppressed agony pour out of me. They did not rush me; they simply held me, waiting patiently for the storm to pass.

When my breathing finally leveled, I whispered, “I jumped from the cliff myself.”

“Why would you do that?” my father asked, his voice laced with quiet horror.

“I grew up in the Knox pack,” I confessed, staring at my hands. “I was the only human among wolves. I was entirely useless. I couldn't run with them, I couldn't leap across the ravines, and I couldn't protect myself. I was nothing but a fragile liability to everyone.”

My mother’s gentle demeanor vanished, replaced by a fierce, maternal sternness.

“I will not tolerate you speaking of yourself in such a way,” she said firmly. “I carried you and brought you into this world against all odds. You are not weak, Seraphina. You simply needed time to grow.”

I blinked at her in confusion. In the packs, young werewolves shifted early and showed their strength almost immediately. Why would a Lycan princess need time to grow?

“Hush now, do not worry about these things,” my father intervened, his voice softening as he saw my bewilderment.

“But... did you truly mean what you said?” I hesitated. “Am I really a princess?”

My father drew himself up to his full height. In that moment, he exuded an ancient, undeniable majesty that commanded absolute reverence.

“Without a doubt. I am King Aldrich, ruler of the Lycans and sovereign of all werewolves. And you, my daughter, are my sole heir. You will inherit this throne and reign as the future Lycan Queen Regent.”

He spoke with ironclad determination, but my mother raised a hand, shooting him a warning look.

“That is quite enough, Aldrich,” Queen Elara chided gently. “Our daughter has only just opened her eyes. This is far too heavy a burden to place on her shoulders right now.”

Aldrich cleared his throat, offering a sheepish but warm smile.

“Of course. Forgive me. Let us start with the basics. I am Aldrich, your father. And this breathtaking woman beside me is Elara, my eternal mate and your mother.”

A beautiful blush crept onto Elara's cheeks as she playfully nudged Aldrich’s side. He didn’t even flinch, clearly accustomed to her affectionate reprimands.

“When we chose to bind ourselves as mates and bring you into this world, we knew we would face trials,” Aldrich mused, looking warmly at his wife.

My eyes widened.

“Chose to bind yourselves? But... doesn’t the Moon Goddess decree our fated mates?”

“Lycans possess the divine right to choose their partners,” Elara explained, brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead. “We are never forced to accept a bond that does not bring us joy. But tell me, sweetheart... is there someone who already holds your heart?”

My throat tightened.

“I... I had a fated mate. One arranged by the Goddess.”

Elara’s eyes softened with deep intuition.

“And do you love him, darling? Because you have the power to reject that bond if you wish.”

“He rejected me first,” I whispered, looking down like a child waiting to be scolded for breaking something precious.

“What?” Aldrich’s voice boomed through the chamber, his eyes flashing with lethal gold. “Who could possibly be so utterly blind and foolish to reject my daughter?”

Elara immediately brought me close, shielding me from my father’s roaring protective aura.

“It is alright, my sweet girl. You are unbound now. You are entirely free to choose whoever deserves your heart.”

Her words felt like a healing balm on a fresh wound. I wiped away the lingering tears, determined to be strong, and shifted the subject.

“Are you both very busy today?”

“There were pressing matters of state, but they have been taken care of,” Aldrich answered smoothly. “Eventually, you will learn to navigate these courtly duties alongside us.”

I leaned back against the plush pillows, letting Elara hold me.

Oliver Knox’s cruel rejection still lingered as a dull ache in my chest. But as I looked at the parents I had spent a lifetime dreaming of, I realized that if Oliver hadn't broken our bond, I would never have fallen into the river and found my way back to where I truly belonged.

“But how is it possible that I lived as a human for so long?” I asked.

Aldrich smiled gently.

“It is the nature of our kind. Before our first shift, Lycan youth are indistinguishable from ordinary humans. It was because your wolf was entirely dormant that we could never track your aura.”

“Yes,” Elara added, her voice cracking as fresh tears pooled in her eyes. “It was storming so fiercely the night you vanished. Your scent was too faint, and the rain washed away every trace... We searched for so long...”

“How did I end up so far away?” I asked quietly.

Aldrich’s jaw clenched.

“A treasonous bastard coveted the Lycan throne. Unable to overthrow me, he stole you away in the night to use as leverage.”

“The moment we realized you were gone,” Aldrich continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy register, “I hunted him down. I broke him until he begged for death. He confessed that he had hidden you in the eastern forests, but despite searching every inch of those woods, we found nothing. We feared he had cruelly ended your life.”

I was stunned. I had gone from being the pack’s pity-case to the center of a royal conspiracy.

“But I still feel human,” I admitted, looking down at my hands. “When will I become a real Lycan?”

“Very soon, sweetheart,” Aldrich reassured me, his eyes gleaming with pride. “The Lycan awakening is a gradual, powerful transition. It begins at eighteen and culminates by your nineteenth year. Your wolf will awaken fully when the time is right.”

A spark of genuine excitement flared in my chest. To have a wolf of my own—to finally run with the wind rather than lag behind—was a dream I had secretly cherished for a decade.

“I want to shift,” I said, a newfound determination ringing in my voice.

Elara smiled warmly, patting my head.

“It cannot be rushed, darling. But the moment your wolf awakens, we will begin your training. You will become a warrior and leader worthy of your bloodline.”

“You are the sole heir to the Lycan throne, Seraphina,” Aldrich declared proudly. “You are destined for greatness.”

I looked into my father’s intense, dark eyes.

“Do you truly believe I can do it?”

“I know you can. You are our daughter, and you possess the strength of the ancient kings. You may do whatever your heart desires.”

Basking in their unconditional love was a sensation I had never truly known. I leaned into Elara, allowing myself to be pampered, and whispered,

“I have one small request.”

“Name it, sweetheart. Anything,” Aldrich promised instantly.

“I want to see your wolf. I’ve never seen a Lycan before.”

Aldrich let out a hearty laugh, his sharp teeth flashing.

“Of course, but only when you have fully recovered from your injuries.”

“The couple who raised me... they found me near the edge of the border forest,” I said, describing the quiet woodland territory of the Grenades.

Elara gasped softly.

“I searched those very woods... I was so close, yet the Goddess kept you hidden until the moment was right.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around her. “We are together, and we will never be parted again.”

“Your adoptive family, Mr. and Mrs. Grenade, took wonderful care of you,” Elara said, her gratitude shining through her tears. “We owe them an immeasurable debt. We will ensure they are richly rewarded for protecting our princess.”

“Now, you must rest, Seraphina,” Aldrich instructed gently, tucking the heavy velvet duvet around me. “Your body has been through an immense ordeal, and you must heal before your training begins.”

As they turned to slip out of the room, I called out,

“Father?”

Aldrich paused at the threshold, turning back to look at me.

“Do you truly believe I can be the Queen Regent?”

He offered me a confident, brilliant smile.

“My child, you will be the greatest ruler this kingdom has ever seen.”

As the heavy doors closed, a deep, comforting exhaustion washed over me.

I closed my eyes and let sleep take me, knowing that my life had changed forever.

I was no longer Malory, the rejected human girl.

I was Princess Seraphina, and I was going to claim my throne.