Ilinca-Viorica Drăghici The marble floor was freezing beneath my knees, but the silence inside the Silver Spire was worse. Five hundred nobles watched from the galleries above, their whispers filling the grand hall. Some hid their smiles behind ivory fans, while others stared openly, eager to witness my humiliation. At the center of the dais stood Prince Cyprian-Doric Hagi, the man I had loved for five years. Sunlight caught his platinum-blonde hair, making him look every bit the perfect royal heir. His icy-blue eyes, however, held no warmth. He looked at me as if I were an unfortunate mistake he had finally found the courage to correct. "Ilinca Drăghici," he announced, his voice carrying through the hall. "By the authority of my bloodline and the consent of the High Council, I am here to correct a grave mistake." I pressed my palms against the marble and forced myself to meet his gaze. "Five years ago, our fathers bound us by contract," he continued. "We believed your bloodline possessed the divine grace needed to strengthen the Silver Spire. We were wrong." Whispers spread through the crowd. I heard someone laugh. "Your wolf remains dormant, Ilinca," Cyprian said, stepping closer. "Your bloodline offers nothing to my kingdom. My borders are failing, and I cannot sacrifice my throne for a woman who brings no power to the crown." For a moment, I couldn't speak. I had stood beside him through every doubt, defended him when the court questioned his judgment, and believed his promises even when his family treated me like an embarrassment. Was I truly nothing to him now? "You swore an oath to me," I managed. "In the sacred groves, you promised you would never abandon me." His expression didn't change. "Oaths are for those worthy of keeping them." He drew a silver ritual blade from his waist. My stomach tightened. I knew what was coming. The Severing was more than a broken engagement. It would strip me of my royal standing and erase the sacred bond that had tied our families together. Cyprian cut his palm and let his blood fall onto the marble. "By blood and silver, I sever this bond. I erase our promise and cast you out of the Silver Spire. You are nothing to this court, Ilinca Drăghici. Nothing to me." He seized my left wrist before I could pull away. The heated blade pressed against my betrothal mark. Pain shot through my arm, and I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of the people who had spent years waiting for me to fail. When he finally released me, I caught myself against the floor. A fresh scar marked the place where our promise had once rested. Cyprian turned away. "Guards. Remove her from the grounds." He didn't even look back. I rose slowly, ignoring the trembling in my legs. After smoothing the skirt of my black gown, I walked down the central aisle alone. Five hundred pairs of eyes followed me, waiting for me to crumble. I gave them nothing. Outside, rain poured over the courtyard, soaking my clothes before I reached the gates. I barely noticed the cold. When the iron gates slammed shut behind me, I stopped on the muddy roadside and looked back at the castle. My wrist throbbed with every heartbeat. I had loved Cyprian enough to trust him with my future. He had repaid that trust by turning my humiliation into a royal spectacle. Whatever remained of that foolish girl ended there. I pressed my thumb against the fresh scar and let the pain remind me of what I must never forget. I would never bow to him again. Not to a prince. Not to a council. Not even to a god. Then I turned toward the mist-covered forests of the Carpathians and walked away from the only life I had ever known. Five Years Later Rain tapped against the arched windows of the Obsidian Citadel, but the King's private war room was warm, filled with the scent of leather and burning candles. I stood beside the map table, studying the southern trade routes. My black silk suit fitted neatly, its sleeves covering the scar on my wrist. "You've been quiet for twenty minutes, Ilinca." I looked up. Alpha King Lucian-Cazimir Văduva sat behind his mahogany desk, his dark hair slightly disheveled and his amber-gold eyes fixed on me. Lucian had never looked at me with pity. He treated me as an equal, trusted my judgment, and understood that the girl who had arrived at his court five years ago was not the woman standing before him now. "I'm calculating the risks of tomorrow's delegation, Your Grace." He rose and came around the desk. "If Cyprian's presence here troubles you, I'll cancel the summit. We don't need his treaty, and I won't allow him to use my halls to humiliate you again." "Personal feelings have no place in statecraft," I replied. "His kingdom is weakening. His ancestral magic is dying, his borders are vulnerable, and he needs our military support." I rolled up the map. "We hold the advantage. I arranged these negotiations, and I intend to see them through." A faint smile touched Lucian's lips. "You're a ruthless strategist." "I'm simply what life made me." His gaze dropped briefly to my covered wrist. "Tomorrow, Cyprian will see what he threw away," he said quietly. "And he'll learn that you're no longer someone he can discard without consequences." Before I could answer, the doors flew open. Commander Radu-Mathei Cosma strode inside, rain dripping from his copper-red hair. "Your Grace, the Silver Spire delegation has arrived early. They were attacked on the mountain pass." Lucian's expression hardened. "Who attacked them?" "We're still investigating. But there's something else." Radu glanced at me. "Prince Cyprian brought an ancient relic from the Moon Temple. A divine seal." I frowned. "Why bring a sacred relic to a peace negotiation?" "Because it shattered the moment he entered the Great Hall." For the first time that evening, Radu looked genuinely frightened. "It reacted to a bloodline within these walls. One that shouldn't exist anymore." A strange uneasiness settled in my stomach. "What are you saying?" "Cyprian demands to see you immediately." Radu swallowed. "The seal didn't simply break, Ilinca. It released golden fire." He stared at me, as though he no longer knew who stood before him. "Then it called you by a title no one has heard in centuries." My fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "The First Sovereign."

Ilinca-Viorica Drăghici The First Sovereign. The title hung in the war room, and for once, I couldn't think of a single thing to say. Rain battered the windows while the fire crackled behind Lucian's desk. I kept my expression calm, refusing to let Radu see how deeply his words unsettled me. Five years in Romania's supernatural underworld had taught me one thing: never let anyone see you lose control. "Explain yourself, Commander," Lucian ordered. Radu straightened. "The moment Prince Cyprian entered the Citadel, the Moon Temple's sacred seal shattered. Golden flames burst from it, leaving the Crest of the Unmaker on the floor." His gaze shifted to me. "The mark belongs to the First Sovereign." "Impossible," I replied. "That bloodline was supposedly wiped out three centuries ago. The Moon Temple used that story to justify its control over the Alpha kingdoms." "Then why did the seal react to you?" I had no answer. According to every historical record I'd ever read, the First Sovereign was nothing more than a legend. Yet something inside me stirred at the mention of that name, an unfamiliar sensation I couldn't explain. "Prince Cyprian demands an audience with you," Radu added. Lucian's expression darkened. "He makes demands in my kingdom?" His Alpha aura filled the room, and even Radu stiffened beneath its weight. "Lucian," I said quietly. "Let him speak." The King turned to me, his amber eyes still burning with anger. "You owe that man nothing, Ilinca." "I know. But if he believes I've threatened his religious authority, he'll use this incident to destroy our treaty. I've spent five years preparing for this negotiation. I won't let him ruin it because an ancient relic decided to turn to ash." Lucian studied me before nodding. "Fine. We'll face him together." He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "But if he insults you, I'll forget every reason I have to keep him alive." Despite myself, my heart skipped. I quickly pushed the feeling aside. Lucian was my king, my ally, and the man who had given me a place when the rest of the supernatural world had turned its back on me. That was enough. We descended to the Great Hall, with Radu leading the way. Before we reached the doors, Cyprian's voice rang through the corridor. "I know she's here! I demand to see Ilinca Drăghici!" He sounded nothing like the confident prince who had once severed our bond before five hundred witnesses. Another voice interrupted him. "Remember whose territory you're standing in, Prince." Lord Evander-Tiberiu Vale. His calm voice carried a warning that needed no explanation. Radu opened the doors. Silver moonlight spilled across the marble floor. Obsidian guards stood along the walls, their hands resting on their weapons. Cyprian stood in the middle of the hall, surrounded by four knights. Mud stained his silver armor, and his platinum-blonde hair was disheveled. At his feet lay the remains of a shattered relic. A golden symbol had burned itself into the marble. The Crest of the Sovereign. When Cyprian saw me, he went completely still. "Ilinca?" I continued walking until I stood beside Lucian. "Prince Cyprian," the King said coldly. "You arrive without warning, bring a dangerous religious artifact into my home, and disrupt my court. Explain yourself before I consider this an act of war." Cyprian barely acknowledged him. "The seal reacted to you," he said, staring at me. "It shattered the moment you entered the Citadel." "Perhaps you should stop carrying fragile antiques into places with damp weather," I replied. "Stone breaks, Prince. It doesn't mean the Moon Goddess has suddenly decided to speak." "You're wrong!" He stepped forward. Radu's hand moved to his sword, while Lucian's Alpha aura swept through the hall. Cyprian's knights dropped to their knees, struggling beneath the pressure. Yet Cyprian kept looking at me. "I found something in the Moon Temple's sealed archives," he said, pulling a parchment from inside his cloak. "I've spent five years searching for answers. The bloodline that can save the dying packs wasn't destroyed. It was hidden." I watched him carefully. "Get to the point." His fingers tightened around the parchment. "Your father didn't die of fever, Ilinca." The words struck harder than I expected. My father had been gone for years. I had mourned him, accepted his death, and eventually learned to live with the emptiness he left behind. "What did you say?" "He was executed by the High Priestess because of your bloodline. Your power predates the Moon Goddess herself. You can rewrite the laws of wolfkind and restore the magic our packs are losing." The hall fell silent. I wanted to dismiss him as a desperate man inventing stories to save his kingdom. But the fear in his eyes looked real. Then Cyprian did something I never thought I'd see. He dropped to one knee before me. "Come back to the Silver Spire," he pleaded. "I was wrong. The council manipulated me, and I let them. I'll make you my princess. I'll give you the crown you deserve. Just save my people." I stared at him. Five years ago, those words would have meant everything. I would have believed his apologies and searched for excuses to forgive him. But that girl was gone. I stepped over the broken relic and stopped before him. "You discarded a broken girl, Cyprian." My voice was quiet, but every word carried through the hall. "Don't look so surprised that she's become someone you can no longer control." His mouth opened, but before he could respond, the floor trembled beneath us. I looked down. The golden symbol had changed. Its light deepened into a fierce crimson, and a sharp ringing filled my ears. Beside me, Lucian staggered. His hand flew to his chest as a low growl escaped him. His amber eyes blazed, and for the first time since I'd known him, the Alpha King looked genuinely shaken. Then something pulled at me. It felt as though an invisible thread had tightened around my heart, drawing me toward him. Lucian's familiar scent of cedar and rain suddenly overwhelmed my senses. Heat rushed through my veins. Golden ribbons of light rose from the symbol, winding around our wrists. I tried to step back, but my feet wouldn't move. Lucian turned toward me. His expression mirrored the shock spreading through my chest. Cyprian stumbled away, dropping the parchment. "No," he whispered. "That can't be." Lucian reached for me, his fingers brushing my neck as though he needed to confirm I was real. His voice came out rough and unsteady. "My wolf recognizes you." He stared into my eyes, and I saw something in his expression I'd never witnessed before. Fear. Wonder. Disbelief. "Ilinca," he whispered, "you're my fated mate."

Ilinca-Viorica Drăghici Lucian's thumb rested against my neck, and I could feel the heat of his skin spreading through me. Golden ribbons of light circled our wrists, pulsing with every beat of our hearts. Whatever was happening between us, it wasn't ordinary magic. Fated mates. The words made my stomach twist. For five years, I'd built my life around one rule: I belonged to no one. I'd buried the girl who once believed in love beneath years of hard work, careful planning, and political survival. Now, in front of the man who had destroyed my old life, fate was trying to tie me to someone again. "Ilinca," Lucian whispered. "Don't." I caught his wrist, holding his hand in place without allowing him to pull me closer. "Control your wolf, Lucian. Look around you." His amber eyes flickered. Slowly, the wildness in them faded, and he withdrew his hand. His jaw remained tight, but he gave me the space I'd demanded. Across the hall, Cyprian stared at us in disbelief. "No," he muttered. "The Moon Goddess wouldn't pair the Sovereign bloodline with an Obsidian King. This has to be a trick!" Lord Evander-Tiberiu Vale stepped out from behind a pillar. "The Star-Iron Seal doesn't lie, Prince. Neither does a resonance this powerful." Cyprian scrambled to his feet, his face twisting with anger. "She was mine! She was betrothed to the Silver Spire. Her blood was meant to protect my crown!" He drew his sword. Before he could approach us, Radu pressed his broadsword against the prince's neck. "Lower your weapon," the commander warned. "Unless you'd prefer to leave this hall without your head." Cyprian froze, but his eyes remained fixed on me. "Ilinca, please. You can't let him claim you. Lucian will use your power to control my kingdom. Come back with me. We can break this bond." I almost laughed. Five years ago, I'd believed every promise he'd made. I'd defended him, trusted him, and imagined a future beside him. Now he looked like a man who had thrown away something precious and couldn't bear seeing someone else value it. "There is nothing to break, Cyprian." My voice carried across the hall. "I belong to no one. Not you, not a crown, and certainly not a bond." I turned away from him and faced Lucian. The King watched me without interrupting. There was no anger in his expression, only a quiet respect I hadn't expected. He turned to Radu. "Disarm the delegation. Escort the prince and his knights to the West Wing. Four guards at every door. No one leaves until the summit begins tomorrow." "You can't imprison me!" Cyprian shouted as the guards seized him. Then he looked at me desperately. "Ilinca! The High Priestess knows about your father! Sorina knows the truth! She'll come for you!" I went still. Sorina. The name brought back memories I'd spent years trying to forget. Sorina-Anca Miron had been my mentor at the Moon Temple, the woman who had comforted me on the night I was cast out of the Silver Spire. I'd once trusted her more than almost anyone. The guards dragged Cyprian away, but his final words remained with me long after the doors slammed shut. "Everyone, leave us," Lucian ordered. Evander bowed before leaving. Radu gave me a brief, reassuring nod, then followed the others out. Soon, we were alone. Lucian stood several feet away, his hands clenched at his sides. I could tell he was fighting the same instincts that had made the golden ribbons bind us together. "Are you going to run?" he asked. "I don't run from anything, Your Grace." "Then look at me." I raised my chin. He approached slowly, stopping before he could touch me. "I heard what you told Cyprian. You said you belonged to no one." "I meant it." "If you expect me to become a submissive mate just because some ancient magic chose you for me, you've chosen the wrong woman." For a moment, Lucian simply stared at me. Then he laughed softly. "Do you really think I want a woman who bows to every command? I've spent my life surrounded by people who agree with everything I say. I don't need another servant, Ilinca. I need someone who can stand beside me without fearing me." His expression grew serious. "The wolf in me wants to keep you where no one can hurt you. But I'm not going to lock you away or force you to accept this bond." He slowly raised his hand, giving me time to move away. When I didn't, his fingers brushed my cheek. "I won't demand your heart. Keep your independence, your authority, and your freedom. Nothing about this changes who you are." His words unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. "And if I never accept the bond?" I asked. His gaze didn't waver. "Then I'll remain your king, your protector, and your ally. You don't owe me love simply because fate has decided we're meant to be together." For one dangerous moment, my defenses weakened. I'd expected him to demand obedience. Instead, he was offering me a choice. I didn't know what to do with that kind of kindness. Before I could answer, a cold draft swept through the hall. The iron chandeliers swayed overhead. Every candle flame turned blue before dying at once. Darkness swallowed the room. A strange hissing sound came from the scorched symbol on the floor. Black smoke rose from the stone, twisting into an unfamiliar silver rune. I recognized it from the forbidden archives. The Blood Eclipse. Lucian immediately stepped in front of me, drawing the silver blade at his waist. Then we heard it. Tap. Tap. Tap. Someone was walking along the upper gallery, striking the marble with a wooden staff. A figure emerged from the shadows, dressed in silver-white robes. Her silver hair was braided neatly around her head, and an ancient staff rested in her hand. I knew that face. High Priestess Sorina-Anca Miron. The woman who had once comforted me when the world abandoned me now looked down at me without a trace of warmth. Her eyes were cold, her expression merciless. "You should have remained buried in darkness, child," she said. My stomach tightened. "The Moon Goddess does not permit anyone to rewrite her laws." And as I stared at the woman who might hold the answers to my father's death, I realized that my past had finally caught up with me.