Chapter 2: Daughter of the Enemy

SELENA

“Watch your tone, boy!” Alpha Kingsley’s voice lashed through the air, sharp as a whip. “You will respect my late friend’s daughter. She is your sister now, and you will treat her as such.”

Stephen stood rigid, his fists clenched, eyes burning into mine with raw hostility. The air between us crackled, thick with something unspoken, something dark.

“I will never accept her as my sister.” His voice was low, dangerous. Then it erupted. “Her father killed my mother!”

The words slammed into me like a physical blow. My breath hitched. No—that couldn't be true. My father, the man who taught me how to braid flowers into my hair, who carried me on his shoulders when my legs were too tired to walk—a murderer?

A chill crept through me, curling around my spine. I took a step back, instinctively seeking shelter behind Alpha Kingsley. Stephen’s fury was suffocating, wrapping around me like an iron grip. This wasn’t home. I was an intruder.

“Enough, Stephen!” Kingsley’s voice rang with unyielding authority. “Your mother’s death was not his fault. He was my Beta, my brother-in-arms. You are the future Alpha—start acting like it.”

Stephen held my gaze a moment longer, his dark eyes like a storm waiting to break. Then, with a muttered curse, he spun on his heel and stalked up the grand staircase. The slam of his door sent a shudder through the walls.

I flinched.

A warm, steady hand closed over mine. “Don’t mind him,” Kingsley murmured, his voice softer now. “He’s angry, but he’ll come around.”

Would he? The hatred in Stephen’s eyes said otherwise. He didn’t just despise my father—he despised me.

Kingsley crouched before me, brushing away a tear I hadn’t noticed. “What’s wrong?”

My throat tightened. “Is it true? Did my father kill his mother?”

Kingsley exhaled slowly. “No. Your father was my Beta, my warrior, my friend. He fought for this pack with everything he had.” His grip firmed slightly. “Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

I wanted to believe him. I needed to. But Stephen’s words had planted a seed of doubt that refused to wither.

Kingsley straightened. “Take her to her new room,” he ordered.

A maid stepped forward, bowing slightly.

“She is my daughter now,” Kingsley continued, his voice laced with warning. “Nothing must happen to her. If a single strand of her hair is harmed, you will answer to me.”

The maid stiffened. “Yes, Alpha.”

I followed her down the wide, marble-floored halls. The walls loomed high, adorned with paintings of past Alphas, their stern gazes tracking my every step.

When we reached my room, I hesitated.

It was beautiful. Too beautiful.

Soft pink and white drapes framed a large canopy bed, fairy lights twinkling above. Plush stuffed animals lined the edges, carefully arranged. It was the kind of room I had only dreamed of.

And yet—something felt wrong.

Like a gilded cage.

“Ma’am?” The maid’s voice was cautious.

I turned to her, frowning. “My name is Selena.”

She hesitated before lowering her head. “Yes, but I cannot call you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are Alpha Kingsley’s daughter now,” she said carefully. “If I do, I might be punished.”

I studied her, noting the worry etched into her features. She wasn’t much younger than my mother had been. The idea of someone like her bowing to me felt... unnatural.

“Then let’s keep it a secret,” I whispered with a small smile. “When we’re alone, call me Selena.”

A flicker of surprise crossed her face before she nodded. “Alright. I will.”

I climbed onto the enormous bed, feeling impossibly small. My fingers traced the embroidered edges of the pillows, my thoughts spiraling.

“Can I ask you something?” I finally said.

The maid paused. “Of course, Selena.”

My pulse pounded in my ears. “Why does Stephen think my father killed his mother?”

Silence.

The maid’s eyes darted to the door. Then, lowering her voice, she whispered, “That is a story only Alpha Kingsley can tell you.”

A lump formed in my throat. I had expected that answer, but it didn’t make the ache in my chest any less painful.

Curling up on the bed, I pulled my knees to my chest. My father had always told me to be strong. But tonight, I couldn’t be.

Not when the one person who should have been my family wanted nothing more than to see me gone.

And not when I knew we would wake up under the same roof, every single day.