A new beginning

Alicia POV

The bright rays from the sun slipped through the tall curtains, casting a soft glow across the strange room. I blinked against it as memories of last night rushed back, Derrick’s rejection, Clara’s vicious smile, the stones and insults, and the Lycan King’s golden eyes when he claimed me in front of everyone.

I stood on my feet, my body ached from the long drive and from holding back my tears. The room was silent. No Selene telling me to scrub floors, no Clara laughing, nor my father barking orders. Just me and the heavy emptiness I felt inside.

As the silence stretched on, fear arose in me. What did it mean to belong to the Lycan King? Was I a prisoner… or something worse?

A sharp knock at the door made me jump as my pulse spiked.

The door opened before I could speak.

Kylian stood there, tall and composed, his sharp gray eyes scanning the room before landing on me. 

“His Majesty wants to see you,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

I nodded, but didn’t move right away. His gaze lingered on me a moment longer, softer now, as if he could see through the fear I was trying so hard to hide.

“You are safe,” he said quietly, almost like a promise, then stepped aside to let me pass.

I didn't believe him, but for some reason, the words eased the ache in my chest just a little.

My stomach knotted tighter with every step. I expected Kylian to lead me to some formal chamber where I would stand like a prisoner awaiting judgment.

Instead, the doors opened into a sunlit dining hall.

I froze.

The Lycan King sat at the head of the long table, warm sunlight shining through the tall windows. He was already eating, dressed in black, and his golden eyes seemed to glow brighter when they looked at me.

“You must be hungry,” he said, his deep voice rolled across the room. He gestured to a chair at his right. “Sit.”

For a second, I just stood there, startled that he was even speaking to me. Then my legs carried me forward almost on their own.

Kylian pulled out the chair for me, and I sat stiffly, hands clenched on my lap.

The table was full of fresh bread, roasted meats, and fruits. My stomach growled loudly, betraying me.

One corner of the King’s mouth curved. “Eat,” he said simply, as if it were an order.

I hesitated before reaching for a piece of bread with shaky fingers.

For a while, there was only the quiet sound of knives and forks against plates. The silence wasn’t heavy like it had been back at the pack instead it was watchful. 

I could feel his gaze on me, sharp and unreadable, which made every bite harder to swallow.

His eyes moved to my wrist, noticing the faint purple bruise. His jaw clenched slightly, but he didn’t say anything. For a moment, his golden eyes softened, then turned sharp again with an expression I couldn’t read.

“Eat,” he said again, his voice quieter now, though no less commanding.

I hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days, and before I knew it, I was eating hungrily, filling the emptiness in my stomach.

He watched me for a moment before turning back to his own plate.

Halfway through the meal, a gamma stepped into the room and bowed.

“Your Majesty, your presence is needed.”

His golden eyes flicked toward me before he stood.

“Finish your breakfast,” he said calmly, with a tone of finality, before striding off with the gamma.

I sat in silence, finishing what I could, aware of how large and quiet the hall felt without his presence.

Minutes later, Kylian came.

“It’s time,” he said.

I followed him outside where the King’s convoy waited, engines running. I was guided into the same car as last night.

The King was already seated inside. He didn’t speak, didn’t even look at me this time. The silence in the car felt heavy as we drove.

Even when we reached the palace hours later, he said nothing.

It was a massive fortress covered in pale ivory stone, so high it seemed to touch the sky. The towering golden gates swung open, revealing rows of guards standing like statues on both sides, their polished armor glistening. The palace showed not just strength but greatness, as though it had been built to remind the world who ruled it.

He simply stepped out, gave Kylian a look, and walked toward the entrance, leaving me to trail after him.

The palace loomed over me like a living shadow, anyone who stepped inside felt the presence of power.

My boots echoed softly against the polished floor as I followed Kylian through the grand entrance. The air inside was cool, carrying the faint scent of pine and smoke. Massive chandeliers hung overhead, their golden light glittering across the hall.

Servants in uniforms busied themselves with tasks, moving about quickly. Not one spared me more than a glance. 

Everything about this place felt different, the high ceilings, the long hallways, the paintings of fierce Lycans in battle lining the walls.

“This way,” Kylian said, his tone even.

I kept my head low as we climbed a wide staircase, the reality settling in that this was no longer the Silvermoon Pack. No one here knew me, no one cared about my disgrace.

When we reached a hallway, Kylian stopped in front of a golden door.

“This is your room.” he said. 

“The King will summon you when he wishes to see you.”

I simply nodded.

The room was quiet and surprisingly warm when I walked in. Sunlight spilled through tall windows draped with heavy curtains. There was a bed big enough for three, a small table set with fresh water, and a wardrobe in the corner.

It was… too much. Too clean. Too soft, unlike the small cubicle I slept in at the servant quarters in my father's mansion.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, holding the blanket in my hands. Everything that had happened, my father’s banishment, Derrick’s cold words, Clara’s smirk. It all came rushing back, crashing over me like a wave.

For the first time since last night, I let the tears fall.

Moments later, a servant knocked softly before stepping into the room, pushing a large rail of clothes. Dresses of every color and fabric swayed gently as the rail rolled to a stop.

“His Majesty asked that you choose whatever you like,” the servant said with a polite bow.

I blinked at the sight of it all. Silks, soft sweaters, coats lined with fur, clothes I had only ever seen Clara wear. My fingers brushed over one of the gowns, the fabric’s texture was so smooth that it felt unreal.

For a minute, I just stood there, unsure. I had never been given a choice about anything in my life.

Was this a test? 

Back at Silvermoon pack, if I touched something that wasn’t mine, Selene would sneer and punish me for “forgetting my place.” 

What if this was the same? What if the King expected me to refuse?

The servant must have noticed my hesitation, because she smiled gently. 

“The King wishes you to be comfortable.”

Her words sank in slowly, and my heart thudded with both relief and fear all at once. I nodded, finally reaching for a simple blue dress.

“Excellent choice,” the servant said softly, as if sensing how hard that choice had been for me.

When I changed into the dress, the servant guided me toward a full-length mirror by the window.

I went still.

For a long moment, I just stared at myself in the mirror.

The girl in the reflection didn’t look like me, she wasn't the wolfless reject who used to scrub floors while my twin, Clara, wore pretty gowns. This girl’s hair, though still messy from the night before, fell loose around her shoulders, the blue dress fit me perfectly, giving me a softer look. 

I didn’t know whether to smile or cry.

Was this who I could have been all along if life had been kinder to me? Or was this just a cruel trick before the world reminded me where I really belonged?

 “You look beautiful, miss.”  The servant’s voice was soft, almost kind.

She gently combed my hair until it looked soft and neat, then pinned a few loose strands back with golden clips. When she finished, she placed a fancy box on the table.

“These are perfumes and oils,” she said with a polite bow. “For you to use. I’ll leave you to rest now.”

The door clicked shut behind her. 

For the next two hours, I stayed in the room, staring at the polished floor, pacing by the tall windows, touching the perfume box but never opening it. 

And though no one had locked the door, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was a prisoner here, a stranger trapped in someone else’s world.

At the sound of the knock, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

This time, it wasn’t a servant.

It was him.

The Lycan King stood by the door, still dressed in black, his golden eyes calm and unreadable.

“Come, Walk with me.” He said simply.

Something about the way he said it made it sound less like an invitation and more like an order.