Chapter 2

Seraphina's POV

The next morning before the sun rose, I sneaked out of the Rogue kingdom, out of the place that had somehow become my home for years and began my journey to the Obsidian Claw Pack. The journey was long and quiet as I sat in the backseat of the SUV van arranged by Damon, my hood drawn low and the scarf around my face untouched. When we arrived at the borders, it was time to make my entrance.

The driver who rode the car dropped me in a highway close to the borders, and quickly turned back to the Rogue kingdom. I watched as they left, my heart racing. I really I'm alone now.

Breathing in and out to calm my nerves and regain my confidence that seems to be slipping away like sand, I made my way towards the large grand gate.

By the time the guards discovered me wandering near the territory’s entrance, I looked nothing like royalty. This was another of Damon's Idea. He did anything and everything just to make the mission believable because we've heard stories of how the great king, Alpha Ronan was a wise king and believes only in what he could see. The reason he never believed his wife was dead until he sees her corpse.

My clothes were ragged and covered in thick dirt, carefully torn in strategic places to show old scars and bruises that the guards at the Rogue kingdom had purposely given me—one meant to tell a story of long suffering. My once-glorious—maybe I wouldn't say mine—it was Luna Evelyn's, the silver hair was knotted, matted with dirt, and hung in tangled waves—looked like it hadn't been combed or washed for years—around my face. My skin wasn't flawless. No. Instead, it bore smudges of filth, and my eyes carried just enough blankness to seem haunted just like that of a ghost.

When the men found me I made sure to look like someone who would pass out the next minute from exhaustion. 

He looked at me with a mix of disgust and annoyance at first, thinking I was a begger and would send me away the next minute. Then his eyes widened with a mix of shock and recognition, stuttering, "Isn't this..... lady.... Evelyn?"

His colleague stepped closer, eyes landing on me while I just curled into myself. “Right. She looks just like her…” 

“It can’t be," another chipped in.

“I swear on the moon goddess, it is her. Look at her face. She's Evelyn," the first guard said in a firm tone. I didn't say anything. I just smiled darkly inside me. The plan was working.

“But she’s supposed to be dead.”

They debated for a while before one of them stepped forward. “My lady, can you speak?”

I nodded slightly, feigning confusion and subtle fear. “W-Where…...am I?”

They exchanged looks. “Let's get her to the Alpha,” one ordered. “Now.”

Not long after, I was led to the Obsidian Claw Pack’s great hall, surrounded by murmurs and stunned expressions that made me scared for a second. But I quickly got over it, knowing that this wasn't the time nor place to cower.

Alpha Ronan sat at the head of the room on his throne chair, his piercing eyes locked on me the moment I was brought forward. He was exactly as I remembered from fifteen years ago— tall, regal, intimidating. And still devastatingly handsome. And it was those wicked stormy gray eyes that I saw that night.

I clenched my fists, trying not to let the anger coursing through me consume me.

“Where have you been?” he asked quietly, his voice cold and disbelieving.

I lowered my gaze and whispered, “I was in the forest. A dark one… I don’t remember much. There was pain… hunger… I was treated with sheer cruelty." I trembled just slightly, letting a practiced tear roll down my cheek. “I didn’t think I’d survive.”

He stood slowly, pacing around with his hands at his back and a shadow passing over his face. . “You expect me to believe you simply returned from the dead?”

Of course , he didn't believe me. But I thought he would, given that I heard he never believed his wife was dead.

"You don't have to believe me because even I don't know who I am. I can't remember anything," I said in a low tone. Lost memories. I had thought it was perfect to maintain that if I wanted to avoid any questions about the past events.

The tension in the room grew thick as everyone's eyes were locked onto mine. I could feel their skepticism rising like a tide. My fingers clenched the hem of my filthy dress. He has to believe me.

So I closed my eyes briefly and whispered the incantation Damon’s sorceress had taught me. A flicker of magic course through my veins. The scent of Lady Evelyn—lavender, moonflower, and forest rain, everything rolled off me in gentle waves. It was faint, but enough.

And it did work because I saw Ronan’s nose twitching , then his eyes widened slightly. He moved immediately.

Before I could brace myself, he stepped down from the platform and came to me, standing so close that I could smell the warm, masculine scent of him and my wolf whimpered inside me. And then, he touched my face with trembling fingers.

“It’s you,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “It’s really you.”

I held still, forcing my body to remain calm even as his touch sent sparks through me. Then he did the unexpected. His strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a firm, almost desperate embrace. My heart skipped. He buried his face in my neck and murmured, his voice broken, so broken that I thought he was going to cry. “My queen… my Evelyn… she’s back.”

Applause erupted from the stunned council. The pack warriors knelt. Everyone chanted with a graceful bow. "Congratulations, your majesty." Then switched to, "Welcome back, your Highness."

Ronan pulled away and gave orders in a commanding voice, “Clean her. Feed her. She comes to my Royal chamber tonight.”

As I was whisked away quickly by a group of handmaidens, I heard him say in a terrifying voice, "Whosoever dare hurt my queen shall pay. I swear it."

As we walked, my heart thundered loudly against my ribcage. His royal chamber? I thought. What if he wants to sleep with me tonight? I hadn't thought of that while I was in the Rogue kingdom. I wasn’t ready. Not mentally. Not emotionally prepared for now. Yes....I was to seduce him but I never thought he'd make the first move.

How would I avoid this? And why should he want to fuck a woman who just came back from the dead? Is he that sex starved that he couldn't even wait a day? Thousand thoughts ran through as I was given a warm bath scented with essential oils. 

The maids worked expertly in silence, gently scrubbing my scarred skin, trimming my nails, brushing out the snarls in my hair until it gleamed again. They dressed me in a velvet robe of deep obsidian—a symbol of the Pack, trimmed in silver thread, and placed a delicate golden crown upon my head.

Then, without a word, I was being led through the polished marble corridors toward the Alpha's chamber. We stopped before a tall set of metal doors.

One of the servants knocked lightly, then said with a bowed head, “Your Majesty… the Queen is here.”