LOGINThe coronation is held in the Great Hall rather than the conservatory; older, grander, built for exactly this kind of moment, with towering stone columns and stained glass windows depicting the long, bloody, complicated history of the Lycan Monarchy that I've spent the last several weeks reading about in a very old book. It feels strange, walking into a room meant to hold centuries of kings and queens, knowing I'm about to become one more name added to that record. The guests from yesterday are back, along with what feels like every noble and Alpha and dignitary within a thousand miles. I catch sight of Queen Ysolde near the back, still and watchful, that same knowing look on her face. Vesper and Kane are seated with Aurelia, all three looking uncharacteristically formal, though Kane gives me a subtle thumbs up when he catches my eye that makes me want to laugh at entirely the wrong moment. My parents and Genevieve sit in the front row, beside Selene, Silas, Julian, and Darius, al
I wake up a wife and go to sleep a queen, all in the space of about eighteen hours, which feels like it should require more preparation than anyone actually gave me. "You're doing the thing," Caspian murmurs against my shoulder, still half-asleep, his arms tightening around me. "What thing?" "Overthinking of course. I can feel it radiating off you like heat." "I'm not overthinking." "You're overthinking," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. "It's a crown, Meine Königin. It's not an execution." "Some days those feel like the same thing, historically speaking, in your family." He laughs, low and rough with sleep, and the sound of it settles something in my chest even as my stomach continues its ongoing gymnastics routine. Yesterday I married my mate in front of half the supernatural world. Today I become Queen of all Lycans. I'm allowed a little overthinking. Getting ready is quieter this time, less chaos and more ceremony. My mother helps me into the gown deep sap
The reception spills out into the ballroom, and this is where things get properly strange, in the best way. I spot Vesper and Kane first among the crowd, already deep in conversation with a cluster of lycans who are clearly fascinated by whatever exactly Kane and Vesper are doing here. Kane catches my eye across the room and raises his glass to me with a grin, and Vesper blows a kiss that makes Selene, standing nearby, look scandalized in the most delighted way possible. But it's the woman near the far windows who catches everyone's attention eventually, the way a lit match catches attention in a dark room. She's tall — taller than anyone else in the ballroom, willowy in a way that makes her seem like she's made of something other than bone and muscle. Her gown shifts color depending on the light, silver to lavender to something that isn't quite a color at all, and her ears taper to elegant points beneath hair the color of moonlight on water. When she moves, the air around her see
The morning of my wedding starts with Genevieve bouncing on my bed at an hour that should be illegal. "Wake up, wake up, wake up! It's your wedding day!" She's already fully dressed, hair done, practically vibrating with the kind of energy only a teenager who got a full night's sleep and zero responsibilities could possibly have. I, meanwhile, feel like I got run over by the entire Royal Army. "Genevieve, I love you, but if you don't get off my legs I will end you before I even make it down the aisle." "You keep saying that and yet I'm still alive." She flops down beside me instead, grinning at the ceiling. "Mom's already crying. She's been crying since breakfast. Dad keeps pretending he isn't, but I caught him wiping his eyes on a napkin twice." Fuzzy slippers, I haven't even gotten out of bed yet and I'm already tearing up. There's a knock at the door before it swings open without waiting for an answer, never a good sign and Aurelia strolls in trailing Vesper behind her, b
The heat hits us the second we step through the doors, and my mom actually gasps a little at the entrance hall — the soaring ceilings, the chandeliers, the massive portraits of long-dead kings staring down at us with varying degrees of judgment. "Livana," she breathes. "This is where you live?" "Some days I still can't believe it either," I admit. "There you all are." Selene's voice rings out from across the hall before I even see her, and a second later she's crossing the marble floor toward us with her usual unstoppable energy, Silas trailing a step behind with the long-suffering patience of a man who's clearly been informed of her plans and had no say in them. "We heard the carriage and practically sprinted down here." "You sprinted," Silas says. "I walked." "He power-walked," Selene stage-whispers to my mother, who laughs before she can stop herself, already comfortable — this isn't a first meeting, and it shows in the easy way she lets Selene pull her into a hug. "It'
The days leading up to their arrival are a blur of nervous energy. I've re-cleaned rooms that were already spotless. I've asked François four times if the guest wing is "warm enough," which, considering the palace has more fireplaces than I've had hot meals in my life, is a ridiculous question. He's been very patient with me about it. Bless that man. Damn I can be Frustrating sometimes. Caspian finds me pacing by the window for the third time that morning and wraps his arms around me from behind, chin resting on top of my head. "You're going to wear a groove into this floor, Meine Prinzessin." "I haven't seen them in months," I tell him. "What if it's weird? What if my mom takes one look at all this" I gesture vaguely at the general opulence of the palace, "and decides her daughter has officially lost the plot?" "Your mother raised you," he says. "I doubt anything short of you sprouting a second head is going to rattle her." He's not wrong. Still, my stomach does a full gymnas
I regretted agreeing to Aurelia’s stupid plan almost immediately. The moment she walked into my room carrying three shopping bags, makeup, and the confidence of someone about to ruin lives, I already knew peace was no longer an option for me. “You still dress like you’re preparing for emotional win
The next morning, Aurelia arrived at my house with the energy of someone preparing for war. Not emotional support. Not comfort. War. She marched into the kitchen holding two coffees and a notebook an actual notebook. I stared at her from across the table, asking if I should be scared. "Yes," she an
I was trying. That was the embarrassing part. I was actually trying to feel normal again. The movie playing in the background wasn’t even interesting anymore, but Aurelia kept reacting dramatically to every scene like she deserved an award for emotional support. “That man is definitely the killer,”
The days following the rejection passed in a blur of silence. It wasn’t that I couldn’t speak; it was simply that nothing felt worth the effort of moving my lips. Home had become quiet in a way that didn’t feel peaceful, just heavy and still. I stayed in my room most of the time, staring at walls t







