The Villainess Alpha Princess

Serena Blackwood had returned to the Royal Capital!

The moment the news broke, the noble pups and high-born heirs of the Capital exploded with gossip.

"How did that calamity return? Didn't Alpha King Alaric banish her to The Silent Abbey to reflect on her sins?" A young lord in velvet robes furrowed his brow, the scent of anxiety radiating off him.

"Why else? She’s relying on her grandfather’s power, as always," a noblewoman in a pale dress sneered, fanning herself to mask the scent of her own jealousy. "The Blackwood influence is a stain we can’t scrub out."

"Hmph! Do you think Beta Prime Marcus will let this slide?" a burly Alpha-blood slammed his hand on the table, his voice thick with reverence for the Prime Minister and disdain for Serena.

Rumors swirled through the streets like a foul wind.

Three years ago, Serena Blackwood had nearly drowned Cynthia, the legitimate daughter of Beta Prime Marcus, in the Royal Garden’s lake. She had held the girl’s head under the water until bubbles stopped surfacing.

Unfortunately, she was caught red-handed by Alpha King Alaric and his council of Elders who had been strolling nearby.

Beta Prime Marcus was the head of all officials, second only to the King. His influence shook the very foundations of the pack. For his precious daughter to be publicly humiliated and nearly killed—he demanded blood. He demanded justice to quell the rage in his heart.

But Serena Blackwood was special. Even the Alpha King had to yield three steps to her.

To be precise, the King was yielding to her grandfather, the legendary Alpha Magnus.

Magnus had conquered the realm alongside the King. He had taken thirteen arrows meant for Alaric. They were brothers not by blood, but by the bond of war. Over the years, Magnus’s military achievements were unparalleled; it was said that half of the Kingdom’s territory was won by the Blackwood claws.

But the battlefield is merciless.

Alpha Magnus’s three sons and two grandsons had all perished in war.

His eldest son—the heir—and his two brothers died a month after Serena was born. The heir’s mate, Serena’s mother, died of a broken heart and a severed mate bond shortly after receiving the news. Within two years, the second and third sons followed them to the grave.

Now in his sixties, Alpha Magnus was still at the border, holding the line against rogue invasions.

Serena was his only living bloodline. His only tether to this world.

Out of gratitude for the Blackwood loyalty, the Alpha King named Serena a Highborn Lady, brought her into the Royal Packhouse, and raised her alongside the princes. Luna Queen Eleanor doted on her as if she were her own.

She was given the name Serena—serene only in name, for she was treated like gold and jade. She had her own lands, her own income, and a status that rivaled the princesses.

Growing up in the palace, Serena lacked parents, but she never lacked power. This unique spoiling bred a wildness in her inner wolf. She was arrogant, unruly, and lived freer than any royal.

She was a tyrant. A lawless beautiful disaster.

Drowning someone in front of everyone? Even the Alpha King couldn't ignore that. With Alpha Magnus away at war, and Beta Prime Marcus foaming at the mouth, the King had to act. He spared her life but exiled her to The Silent Abbey—a place of damp stone and silence, designed to break the spirit of rebellious wolves.

Three years later, Alpha Magnus crushed the Rogue Kingdom of Chu. He traded his war merits for one thing: Serena’s return.

On the day of her return, the nobles she had once bullied gathered at the tavern overlooking the city gates. They were eager to see the fallen "Little Demon." They wanted to see her gaunt, broken, and stripped of her Alpha pride.

The Silent Abbey was a hellhole. No noble daughter came out of there with her sanity intact.

Just as they were imagining her miserable state, a commotion erupted at the gate.

A magnificent white stallion, muscles rippling under a coat like snow, thundered into the city. It was a "Jade Eye," a rare breed with eyes like gemstones, the only one in the entire Kingdom.

The rider on its back was not broken. She was breathtaking.

Her long hair was pulled high in a ponytail by a crown of Nanshan Jade, worth a thousand gold pieces, dancing in the wind. She wore a fitted black riding habit made of Floating Light Brocade—a fabric so rare only three bolts were produced a year. Sunlight hit the fabric and shattered into a thousand shimmering ripples. It was said this cloth could repel rain and blood alike.

Around her neck gleamed a heavy, solid gold collar—a symbol of protection and immense wealth.

Miserable? She looked rich enough to buy the city.

The street erupted into chaos, hooves clattering and people screaming.

"Who is so bold to gallop in the Capital? Do they have a death wish?" someone shouted.

"Shh! Do you want to die? That’s the Blackwood girl! If her wolf hears you, you’re meat!"

"I thought she was rotting in the Abbey?"

"Her grandfather is a war god. What did you expect?"

"Alpha Magnus spent a lifetime building glory, only to raise such a useless granddaughter," someone muttered bitterly.

The white horse tore down the main avenue. Suddenly, a tripwire snapped up from the dust—a 'Horse-Tripping Rope' pulled tight by hidden hands.

Just as the horse seemed destined to crash, breaking its legs and its rider's neck, the beast’s ears pinned back. With a surge of power, the Jade Eye leaped, soaring over the rope with supernatural grace.

It didn't even graze a hair.

"Whoa!"

The rider pulled the reins. The horse spun around, and Serena Blackwood turned to face the crowd.

The face that was revealed was dangerous. Her eyebrows were sharp like golden blades, her phoenix eyes burning with a cold fire. Her features were exquisite, possessing a handsome, almost aggressive beauty. Under her right eye sat a small red mole, adding a touch of bewitching allure to her fierce expression.

The sunlight hit her face, and for a moment, the crowd forgot to breathe. She was terrifyingly beautiful.

Her thin lips parted, and her voice carried a chill that made the inner wolves of the bystanders whimper.

"Seeking death?"

Serena’s gaze locked instantly on the servants hiding in the crowd, the ones holding the rope. Her horse, Cloud-Chaser, could dodge traps on a battlefield; this childish prank was an insult.

The servants trembled violently.

Wasn’t she supposed to be broken? Three years in the Abbey usually turned wolves into sheep. But the woman before them didn't look like she had been praying. She looked like she had been sharpening her claws.

The Little Demon King was back.

"Serena Blackwood! How do you have the face to return? If I were you, I would have died in that Abbey rather than shame your grandfather!"

Laughter erupted from the second floor of the tavern. A young man, dressed in finery and surrounded by sycophants, stepped onto the balcony.

Serena looked up, squinting against the sun. Her voice was flat, bored. "You did this?"

The man leaned over the railing, a smirk plastered on his face. "Of course, this Prince did it. What are you going to do about it?"

Serena’s expression shifted to one of annoyance, like she was scraping mud off her boot.

"Shadow. Throw this trash down here."

Before anyone could blink, a white figure materialized on the roof of the tavern, hanging upside down like a bat.

It was a ghost-like figure. No one in the street—not even the shifters with the keenest senses—had noticed her shadowing Serena.

Shadow dropped. Her hand clamped onto the Prince’s collar, and with a casual flick of her wrist, she hurled him off the second floor.

"Ahhhhh!!!"

The Prince flailed, crashing face-first into the dirt of the main street. A perfect dog-eating-shit landing.

On the balcony, a noble in brocade turned pale, his scent souring with terror. "Serena! Are you mad? That’s the 17th Prince!"

Another lackey shouted, voice trembling, "You think you’re still the untouchable Lady Serena? The King is tired of you! If not for Alpha Magnus begging, you’d be rotting! How dare you touch a Royal Prince!"

"Prince Julian’s mother is Lady Shen! She will skin you alive!"

The group rushed down to help the groaning Prince. "Prince Julian! Are you alright? Healer! Get a Healer!"

Shadow landed silently in front of Serena, a protective barrier of lethal intent.

Serena looked down at the disheveled, groaning pile of royalty on the ground and let out a cold laugh. "Oh. It’s just Cynthia’s lapdog."

Prince Julian had been obsessed with Beta Prime’s daughter, Cynthia, since they were pups. He was the one who had watched Serena throw Cynthia in the lake, and he was Cynthia's biggest simp.

Julian scrambled to his feet, dust covering his expensive robes, face red with humiliation. "You dare call this Prince a dog?! Guards! Hold her down! I’m going to rip her tongue out!"

The Capital had two main scourges: Serena Blackwood and Prince Julian. One had the backing of the War God and the Queen; the other was the son of the King’s favorite concubine. They had been enemies since they could shift. But Julian had never once won against Serena.

Julian snarled, his eyes flashing with his wolf's color. "I’ll rip your tongue out and gift it to Cynthia for her birthday!"

Serena looked at him the way a wolf looks at a particularly stupid rabbit.

"Shadow," she commanded softly.

"Shatter two of his fangs."