Chapter 7: Lysandra’s False Crown

Chapter 7: Lysandra’s False Crown

Seraphine’s POV

I woke up to the sound of bells ringing through the pack house. 

They were loud and insistent, the kind that called everyone to the central square. 

I dressed quickly in the black dress they had given me, the dress made me look more like a witch than ever. 

My fingers shook as I tied the laces. 

Why now? What is Lysandra up to? 

I had seen her watching me these past days, her smiles too sweet, her eyes too sharp. 

She hated me being here, close to Rhydian. And now this.

The door opened without a knock. 

Eldric stood there, his face stern as always. “Alpha wants you in the square. Now.”

I nodded and followed him out. 

Warriors rushed past with tensed faces. 

No one looked at me directly, but I felt their stares on my back. 

Outside, the square was packed with the entire pack, hundreds of them stood in tight groups. 

The crowd whispered in uneasy looks. Their bodies moved and they glanced at each other. 

Up on the wooden platform stood Lysandra. 

She wore a white gown that flowed to her feet, her golden hair loosened and shone. 

She looked beautiful as always but her hands were clasped tightly in front of her and her knuckles whitened. 

Rhydian stood beside her, his arms crossed, and his silver eyes fixed on the crowd. 

He didn’t look happy. 

His jaw was set hard, and I saw the muscle twitch there.

Eldric pushed me forward through the crowd. 

People moved aside, muttering. “Witch,” someone said lowly. 

I kept my head high, but inside my stomach twisted. 

This is bad. This feels too much like that night.

Lysandra raised her hands, and the bells stopped. 

The square went quiet. 

She smiled, her voice carried authority “My pack. My family. The Moon Goddess has spoken to me in dreams. She says it is time to heal our wounds and have Luna again.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. 

A few wolves whined lowly. I saw an older man shake his head, his face went pale. 

But no one spoke out. They were afraid of her, afraid of change, afraid of what happened to me.

“She chose me,” Lysandra went on, her voice rose. “To replace Seraphine. To stand beside our Alpha. The Luna Ascension Ceremony will happen tonight under the full moon.”

The pack shifted more. 

A young woman near me hugged her arms to her chest, her eyes widened. “But Seraphine,” she whispered to the man next to her. 

He shushed her quickly.

Rhydian stepped forward. “The ceremony goes ahead.” But he didn’t look at Lysandra. 

His eyes found me in the crowd, and they stayed there. 

The mark on my ribs burned hotter. He feels it. He knows something is off.

Lysandra turned to him, her smile never faded. “And our guest, the witch Elowen, will attend as a witness. Her magic will confirm the Goddess’s choice.”

My blood went cold. 

Witness? She wants me there to watch her take my place. 

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. 

No. I won’t let her.

Eldric grabbed my arm. “You heard her. You’re going.”

I pulled away, but he held tight. “Why me?”

“Alpha’s orders,” he said, his voice low. But his eyes looked sorry.

The day passed too fast. I paced my room, my thoughts raced. 

Lysandra is pushing this because of me. 

She sees Rhydian looking at me, feeling the pull. 

She wants to lock him in before he figures it out. 

But the Moon Goddess warned me. 

One year to choose. 

What if tonight changes everything?

Guards came for me at dusk. They led me to the altar in the woods, the same one where I died. 

My legs felt heavy with every step. Torches lit the path, and flames flickered. 

The pack was already there, circled around the stone. The full moon hung low, bright and full of life.

Lysandra stood on the altar, barefoot in her white gown. 

Rhydian was beside her, dressed in black, his face like stone. 

Eldric nodded to me, pointing to a spot at the edge. “Stand here. Don’t move.”

I nodded, but my heart hammered. 

The air felt thick, charged with magic and my skin prickled. The reversed mark started to ache, low and steady.

The High Elder stepped forward, his voice chanting old words. 

The pack joined in, their voices rose. 

Lysandra raised her arms to the moon, her face tilted up. “Goddess, bless me. Make me Luna.”

Nothing happened. 

The moon stayed silent. No light, no warmth. The chanting faltered. 

People looked at each other, confused.

Lysandra’s smile slipped. Her arms shook a little. She repeated the words, louder. “Bless me!”

Still nothing. A wolf howled in pain somewhere in the back. Then another. 

The ground trembled under my feet. I staggered, grabbing a tree to stay up.

The mark on my ribs exploded with heat. 

I gasped, pressing my hand there. It burned so bright, violet light seeped through my fingers, through my dress. 

The fabric glowed, lighting up the night.

The pack saw it. Gasps turned to shouts. “What’s that?” someone yelled.

Rhydian’s head snapped toward me. His eyes widened. “Elowen?”

The ground shook harder. Wolves dropped to their knees, howling in agony. 

Their bodies twisted, like something pulled at them from inside.

Lysandra’s face went pale. 

Her eyes darted to me, full of hate. She clenched her fists, whispering words under her breath. 

Forbidden magic. I felt it crawl in the air, dark and sticky.

No, don’t. 

But she did. A black mist rose from her hands, wrapping around the altar. 

She forced the ritual, pushing her will into the moon.

The mist hit the stone, and everything backfired. 

The moon flashed bright, blinding. 

A vision slammed into everyone’s minds. I saw it too. Me, Seraphine, on the altar that night. The dagger in my chest. 

Blood soaking my dress. Rhydian’s face twisted in horror. My eyes closed.

The vision cut off. The pack reeled back, some crying out. “Seraphine!” a woman screamed. 

Doubt spread like fire and whispers turned to questions. “What was that? Did the Alpha kill her on purpose?”

Rhydian dropped to one knee, his hand on his chest. 

His face was ashen, eyes haunted. He looked at Lysandra, then at me. 

Confusion and pain warred there.

The ground stopped shaking. The howls died down. Lysandra stood straight, her chest heaved. 

She forced a smile, but her eyes were wild. “The Goddess tests us. The ceremony continues.”