CHAPTER 8: THE QUEEN WHO WASN’T CHOSEN

I woke up slowly.

Not the kind of waking where you sit up fast and panic. This was worse.

This is the kind where your body wakes first, and your mind follows behind, dragging pains with it.

The bed was too soft.

The air smelled wrong.

I opened my eyes.

Same dark wood ceilings. Heavy curtains. Tall windows letting in the pale morning light. Everything was polished and perfect, like it had never known fear.

The Montenegro estate.

My chest tightened at the thought of what the day would bring.

For a moment, I lay still, listening. No chains. No guards shouting. Just silence. Thick and watching.

I pushed myself up. My head throbbed, but I stayed upright. The sheets slid down, white and untouched.

Like I hadn’t fought for my life less than a day ago.

A knock came at the door.

Not asking.

Telling.

A maid entered, head bowed, eyes careful. “Good morning, my Queen.”

The word hit wrong.

I nodded once. “Good morning.”

She placed a tray beside the bed, food I didn’t want, tea I wouldn’t drink. Her hands shook just a little.

Fear.

When she left, I noticed the guards outside the door.

Not inside.

Watching.

I dressed alone.

Black trousers, fitted top, no crown, no jewelry. Just the mark on my skin that I could not remove.

I stepped into the hall, conversations stopped. Silence. The hall was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

Wolves lined the corridor—some bowed, some stared, some didn’t look at me at all.

Their eyes told the truth even when their mouths stayed shut.

She’s not real.

She’s a mistake.

She’s dangerous.

I walked anyway.

Every step felt like walking through broken glass.

The main hall was full. Elders. Alphas. Warriors. The Montenegro pack in all its strength.

And in its doubt.

Derek stood at the front.

I stood beside him.

The silence stretched.

“My pack,” Derek said, his voice calm but carrying. “You stand before your Queen.”

A ripple went through the room.

Some bowed immediately.

Others hesitated.

That hesitation cut deeper than open defiance.

“This is Raya Tyndall,” he continued. “Bound to Montenegro by law, by blood, and by power.”

His words were firm.

His tone was not warm.

“She remains Luna until the Council decides otherwise,” he said. “Any challenge to her authority is a challenge to me.”

A warning.

Not a promise.

I felt it then—the thin line I stood on. Not chosen. Not loved. Just… enforced.

The pack bowed.

Most of them.

Enough to look real.

Derek turned to me. “You may speak.”

I hadn’t prepared words.

So I told the truth.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I said quietly. “I didn’t plan it. I didn’t steal it.”

Eyes lifted.

“I lost my home. My bond. My name,” I continued. “If I stand here, it is because I survived.”

Silence.

“I won’t beg for loyalty,” I said. “But I will not hide either.”

I stepped back.

That was all.

Derek dismissed the gathering.

As the room cleared, I felt it more sharply.

No one came closer.

No one smiled.

Respect without trust.

Power without loyalty.

A trap.

Later, in the quiet of the inner courtyard, I finally let myself breathe.

Stone walls. Bare trees. Snow clinging to branches.

I wrapped my arms around myself.

That’s when I noticed it.

The absence.

Jax, He wasn’t at the gathering, he hadn’t come to my room. I hadn’t felt him since I woke.

The bond felt… uneven. Like a rope pulled tight on one side and fraying on the other.

I found Derek in his study.

He didn’t look up when I entered.

“Where is Jax?” I asked.

A pause.

“He’s been assigned elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere where?” I pressed.

Derek’s jaw tightened. “Away from you.”

The words hurt more than I expected.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because the Council is watching,” he said. “And because emotions complicate power.”

I laughed softly. “Everything about this is emotion.”

He finally looked at me then.

His eyes were tired.

“You need stability,” he said. “Not chaos.”

“I need him,” I said before I could stop myself.

The room went still.

Derek’s expression hardened. “That is not an option right now.”

I turned away.

Outside, the sky darkened.

I stood on the balcony alone, watching wolves move below me.

But none of them felt like mine.

Nyx stirred inside me, restless. Unsettled.

They don’t see us, she whispered.

“I know,” I whispered back.

For the first time since the Ascendance Ball, I understood something clearly.

Being Queen didn’t mean being chosen.

It meant being endured.

And somewhere beyond these walls, my sister was watching.

Waiting.

While I stood on a throne made of borrowed obedience.