Chapter 4: The Stolen Token

My muscles screamed in protest as I pulled the thin, threadbare blanket over my naked shoulders. Every movement sent a sharp, throbbing ache through my core and along my inner thighs—a visceral, undeniable echo of Alpha Killian’s ruthless, possessive weight slamming into me on that velvet sofa.

I lay curled on the narrow, lumpy cot in my tiny servant's room, my chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. The air in the cellar room was freezing, smelling of damp stone and old dust, but my skin was still burning. It felt as though his rain-and-ozone scent was permanently embedded in my pores, no matter how hard I tried to pull the cheap wool up to cover myself.

I closed my eyes, but the pitch-black darkness of the VIP suite immediately rushed back to consume me.

I could still feel his massive, calloused hands bruising my waist, pinning my wrists above my head like I was a helpless captive. I could still hear his dark, guttural growls vibrating against my collarbone as his teeth scraped over my sensitive skin, demanding my total surrender. I was a "wolf-less" maid, a nobody who was supposed to clean floors and endure beatings, yet for three frantic, breathless hours, the most feared Alpha in the territory had devoured me like a starving beast, spilling his seed deep into my womb.

If anyone finds out... if Killian realizes who I really am...

A shudder tore through my body. He would realize I was just a low-born servant with no pack standing, a useless omega who had touched his sacred, royal flesh. The penalty for that wasn't just a beating; it was public execution by the pack guards.

A sharp, metallic clatter on the small wooden vanity beside my bed pulled me from my panic.

I forced my aching body to turn onto my side. Sitting on the cracked surface of the vanity was a tiny velvet box, left open. Inside sat a duplicate silver crescent ring—an exact twin to the ancestral heirloom I had dropped beside Killian's bed during our wild night. My mother had given me the pair before she died, telling me with her final breath that they carried the dormant royal bloodline of our forgotten ancestors. I had kept the duplicate hidden away in the velvet box for years, never daring to wear both at once.

I reached out a trembling hand, my fingers brushing the cool silver. Losing the first ring was a tragedy, but at least I had this one left to remember my mother by—

BOOM!

The wooden door of my room was violently kicked open, slamming against the stone wall with enough force to shower dust down onto my cot.

"Get up, you worthless rat!"

Celeste strutted into the small room, her silk dress rustling loudly in the quiet cellar. She looked pristine, her blonde hair styled in elaborate coils, her face caked in heavy makeup, and her sharp eyes flashing with pure, unadulterated venom. As my high-ranking half-sister, she made it her life's mission to remind me every single day that I was nothing more than garbage under her designer shoes.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Celeste sneered, marching toward my cot with her arms crossed over her chest. "The entire main estate is in absolute chaos, Alpha Killian has ordered a complete lockdown, and you are lying in bed like a lazy swine! Where is my morning tea?"

I scrambled backward on the cot, frantically clutching the thin blanket to my collarbone to hide the bite marks and red friction burns covering my neck and chest. "I'm... I'm sorry, Celeste," I rasped, my voice raspy and raw from screaming Killian's name all night. "I was... feeling sick..."

"Sick? You don't get to be sick!" Celeste stepped closer, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took in my disheveled hair, my pale face, and the desperate way I was hiding my body under the sheet. "You were locked in the VIP hall last night. I locked you there myself. How did you get back down to the quarters?"

My heart hammered violently against my ribs, choking out my breath. "I... the guards... someone opened the fire escape door..."

Celeste scoffed, rolling her eyes in disgust. "Pathetic lie. You probably crawled through the servant hatches like the vermin you are."

She turned away, sweeping her eyes around my tiny room to find something else to berate me for—and that was when her gaze landed on the vanity.

The morning sunlight filtering through the tiny cellar window hit the duplicate silver crescent ring sitting open in its velvet box. The intricate royal engravings caught the light, gleaming with a brilliant, ethereal radiance that immediately drew Celeste's greedy eyes.

She froze. Her breath hitched in her throat as she slowly walked over to the vanity, staring down at the unique silver band.

"What... what is this?" Celeste whispered, her voice suddenly dropping its harsh edge, replaced by a chilling, razor-sharp curiosity.

"Don't touch that!" I cried out, forgetting my place as I tried to swing my legs off the cot to stand. "Please, Celeste, it was my mother's—"

Before I could even stand up, Celeste's arm swung through the air.

CRACK!

Her open hand slammed brutally across my face. The force of the slap sent me tumbling back onto the cot, my cheek burning with white-hot pain as blood welled up from the inside of my lip.

"Shut your mouth, trash!" Celeste hissed, her fingers wrapping greedily around the silver crescent ring and snatching it out of the box.

She held the ring up to her face, turning it between her polished nails. I watched in horrified silence as her eyes widened in realization. She had just come from the upper floors of the estate—she had heard the frantic whispers among the high-ranking wolves. She knew Alpha Killian had miraculously regained his sight, and she knew he was currently tearing the pack house apart, demanding the head of every guard until they brought him the woman who owned a silver crescent ring.

Celeste looked from the ring in her hand down to me, sitting bruised and bleeding on the cot. A slow, wicked smirk crept across her red lips, twisting her face into something truly monsterous.

"I don't know where you stole this from, Seraphina," Celeste purred, her voice dripping with cruel satisfaction as she slipped the silver band onto her own index finger. It fitted her perfectly. "But a wolf-less maid like you doesn't deserve something so valuable."

"Celeste, please!" I begged, tears finally spilling over my lashes as I reached out toward her with shaking hands. "That is the only thing I have left! Please don't take it!"

"Take it?" Celeste laughed—a high, mocking sound that echoed off the cold damp walls. She backed away toward the open door, admiring the way the ancient silver caught the light on her hand. "I'm not just taking it, sister. I'm going to use it to take what is rightfully mine."

She paused at the threshold, looking back at me with a lethal, triumphant glare that sent a chill straight to my soul.

"Alpha Killian is looking for the owner of this ring," Celeste said softly, her smirk widening into a sinister grin. "And starting today... that owner is me."

Without waiting for my response, she slammed the door in my face, her sharp heels clicking rapidly down the stone hallway as she rushed toward the main palace to claim the Alpha's throne.

High above the dark cellars, in the grand courtyard of the Silverclaw Palace, Celeste stepped into the golden morning sunlight.

The air was heavy with the oppressive, suffocating aura of an enraged Alpha. Dozens of high-ranking pack females were lined up against the marble pillars, trembling as Killian’s elite guards inspected their hands, searching for any trace of the mysterious mate who had cured their king.

Celeste stopped beside a towering marble statue, pulling the stolen silver crescent ring up to meet the bright sun. The ancient metal gleamed brilliantly, casting a soft, ethereal shadow across her face.

Celeste’s eyes flashed with pure, ruthless ambition as a dark smirk pulled at her lips.

"Enjoy your dark, dirty cellar, Seraphina," Celeste whispered to the wind, clutching her hand over her chest as she prepared to walk toward the grand throne room. "Because this throne belongs to me now."