Chapter 3: The King’s Palace, The Queen’s Prison

The gates of the Silver Moon Pack were exactly as I remembered them—cold, towering, and etched with the history of Alphas who had ruled with iron fists. Five years ago, I was dragged through these gates in chains, my back bleeding and my soul screaming.

Today, I rode through them in a blacked-out SUV, my children hidden behind tinted glass and my face obscured by a veil of mystery.

As the car pulled into the courtyard, the pack members gathered. They whispered, their eyes wide. They didn't see a "Cursed Omega." They saw the savior of their dying bloodlines.

"Stay in the car until I give the signal," I whispered to Aries and Lyra. "And remember—no magic. No shifting."

"But Mommy, the air here smells like old socks and lies," Aries grumbled, his little nose wrinkling.

"That's the smell of a pack that lost its way, little one," I said, stepping out of the car.

The moment my boots hit the gravel, the atmosphere changed. Liam was already there, waiting at the base of the palace steps. He had changed into a dark military-style tunic that made him look like the god of war. His handsome eyes were fixed on me, tracking my every movement with a predatory hunger.

"Welcome back to the Silver Moon, Healer," he said. His voice was a low vibration that seemed to travel through the ground and straight up my spine.

"I'm here for the patients, Alpha. Not for the scenery," I replied, my voice filtered through the lace of my mask to sound robotic and cold.

Isabella stood a few paces behind him, her face a mask of fake hospitality. "We have prepared the West Wing for you, Healer. It's... isolated. We thought you'd prefer the privacy."

I knew exactly what the West Wing was. It was the old servants' quarters. The furthest place from the Alpha’s chambers. She was trying to hide me.

"Change of plans," I said, tilting my head. "I require the Lunar Suite. It has the best ventilation for my alchemy and the most sunlight for my herbs. Plus, it’s closer to the intensive care unit where your Beta is dying."

The courtyard went silent. The Lunar Suite was the traditional bedroom of the Luna. My old bedroom.

Isabella’s eyes flashed with rage. "That suite is reserved for the Alpha's mate! You are a guest, a servant—"

"I am the only person between your pack and a mass graveyard, Isabella," I snapped, stepping toward her. My silver aura flared, a physical wave of cold power that made her stumble back. "If you value a room over the lives of your people, perhaps the Alpha should reconsider who sits by his side."

Liam’s eyes narrowed, but to my surprise, a ghost of a smirk played on his lips. "Give her the suite. Move Isabella’s things to the North Wing."

"Liam!" Isabella shrieked. "You can't be serious!"

"The Beta’s life is the priority," Liam growled, his voice brooking no argument. "Move. Now."

As Isabella stomped away, fuming, Liam stepped closer to me. The scent of him was overwhelming—salt, iron, and a raw, masculine heat. He leaned down, his lips brushing the edge of my ear.

"You know this palace well for a stranger," he whispered.

"I study maps, Alpha. It’s a hobby," I lied, my heart racing.

"Is that so?" He reached out, his gloved hand tracing the line of my jaw, just barely touching the lace of my mask. The contact felt like an electric shock. "Then perhaps you can tell me why my wolf is currently trying to rip his way out of my chest just to get a better look at you."

"Your wolf is likely reacting to the medicine in my bag," I said, stepping back into the safety of the shadows. "Now, show me the patient. Every second you spend flirting with ghosts is a second your Beta loses."

The infirmary was a scene of horror. Beta Marcus, Liam’s best friend and the man who had once treated me like a sister, was unrecognizable. The Silver Rot had turned his veins black, and his skin was covered in weeping sores.

Liam stood by the bed, his hand on Marcus’s shoulder. The sight of his grief almost broke my resolve. He truly cared for his men.

"Can you save him?" Liam asked, his voice raw.

"I can. But I need everyone out. Especially you."

"I don't leave my men," he growled.

"Then you will watch him die. My process involves Lunar energy. If an Alpha’s dominant aura interferes, the reaction will be explosive."

Liam hesitated, then nodded to the guards. As they filed out, he turned to me one last time. "If you hurt him, there is no corner of this world where you can hide from me."

"I've already been to the corners of the world, Liam. They weren't that scary."

Once the doors were locked, I let my mask fall. I let my silver light fill the room. I worked for hours, my hands glowing as I pulled the black rot out of Marcus’s pores. It was exhausting, soul-draining work.

By the time I was finished, I was drenched in sweat, my breathing ragged. I slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor. I just needed a moment of peace.

Click.

The door opened.

I didn't have my mask on. My silver hair was sprawled across my shoulders like a shroud of light.

Liam stood there. He didn't say anything. He just stared.

The medical tray in his hand hit the floor with a deafening crash.

"Elena?"

He was across the room in a second, his hands pinning my shoulders against the cold stone wall. His eyes were wild, searching my face, roaming over the features he had spent five years trying to forget.

"You're alive," he breathed, his voice a mix of agony and ecstasy. "You're alive and you... you have the Lunar Mark."

"Let go of me, Alpha," I hissed, trying to push him away, but he was like an immovable mountain.

"I thought I killed you," he whispered, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. "I've spent every night in that empty bed wishing the Moon would take me too. Why didn't you come back? Why did you let me believe you were a rogue?"

"Because you were the one who hunted me!" I screamed, the tears finally breaking through. "You chose a lie over me! You chose her!"

His grip tightened, his thumbs brushing my burning cheeks. "I was a fool. I was blinded. But I won't let you go again. Forbidden or not, cursed or not... you are mine."

He crashed his lips onto mine. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a collision of five years of resentment, longing, and primal need. It tasted like tears and lightning.

I should have fought him. I should have bitten his lip and run to my children.

But as his hands slid down to my waist, pulling me flush against his hard body, my wolf let out a purr of pure triumph.

MATE.

The door to the infirmary creaked open.

"Mommy? Are you done with the bad man's friend?"

Liam froze. He pulled back, his eyes darting to the doorway where Aries stood, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

Liam looked at the boy. Then he looked at me. Then he looked at the boy again.

"Elena..." Liam’s voice was barely a ghost. "Why does that child have my father's eyes?"

The secret is out. The storm has arrived.