Queen Of The Forgotten Wolves

Chapter Three

“Selene...?”

The voice came from the steps of the Nightfang Alpha manor. Low. Controlled.

But I caught the crack in it.

Damien descended slowly, each step a study in forced composure. But I saw it—the flare of disbelief in his stormy gaze. The tremble in his fingers before he stilled them.

“If you wanted to speak to me,” he said under his breath, “you could have sent word through the Shadow Runners. Why show up like this?”

Ayla shifted in my arms, her tiny frame pressed close. She whimpered softly in her sleep. Starved. Cold. So light it broke my heart.

Damien’s eyes darted to the gathering crowd near the iron gates. His jaw clenched. “I wrote to you. Told you not to return until it was safe. There are... complications.”

Complications.

I stared at him. After everything. After the betrayal. After our deaths.

He still looked like a god among wolves—tall, broad-shouldered, his Alpha mark pulsing faintly beneath the collar of his formal jacket. Gold thread glinted at his cuffs, and the Nightfang crest gleamed on his chest.

And me?

I was nothing but a ghost in torn leathers and mud-soaked boots, carrying our child like a secret he tried to bury.

“You promised,” I said quietly. “Three years, you said. You’d bring us home. You’d make me Luna.”

His expression shuttered. Something flickered in his eyes—guilt, maybe, or regret—but it vanished quickly, buried beneath indifference.

“I was going to. But now isn’t the right time.”

He pressed a small pouch into my palm. The weight of silver coins clinked inside. “Take this. Leave quietly. If you must, sever the bond. It’ll be better—for all of us.”

I looked at the pouch.

Then I laughed.

It wasn’t loud, but it was sharp enough to slice through the tension in the courtyard.

I raised the pouch high—and turned it upside down. Silver coins scattered across the stones, rolling into shadows and under boots.

“Alpha Damien of Nightfang now dismisses his true mate and child with silver?” I asked, voice calm but clear. “How noble.”

The chatter around the gates died instantly.

“Selene,” Damien hissed. “Are you insane? What are you doing?”

“I’m feeding my daughter,” I said flatly. “She hasn’t eaten in three days. I came here to claim what’s mine. But if all you can offer us is coin, then let your wolves hear the truth.”

My gaze swept over the curious, whispering nobles. I stepped forward, not bothering to hide my ripped cloak or the blood on my boots.

“I am Selene Stormfang. Bonded mate of Alpha Damien. Marked beneath the Blood Moon. I bore his daughter, Ayla, and bled for this Pack. And he discarded me like trash when another female offered him more power.”

A sharp intake of breath rippled through the crowd. Damien went rigid.

“You don’t understand what you’re doing,” he muttered. “There are guests. Diplomats. Elara—”

“Elara,” I repeated, tasting the name like ash on my tongue.

Speak of the devil.

She appeared at the top of the stairs, all grace and glitter—Elara, the polished serpent. Dressed in ivory and crowned with braids threaded in gold. Her hand rested protectively on the slight swell of her stomach.

“Elara,” I said, lifting my chin. “The new Luna. The one you chose over us.”

Her voice was sweet, oiled with false concern. “Selene, if you’re truly who you say you are, then of course you’re welcome. You must be exhausted. Come inside, we’ll—”

“No,” I cut in, cold. “Don’t pretend kindness now. I would not be taken to a side room.”

Her smile faltered. Briefly. Enough.

“I’m not here for charity. And I’m not going to some servant’s quarters to be hidden like a sin. You’re having a feast, aren’t you? Good. My daughter and I are starving. We’ll eat with the rest.”

“Selene—!” Damien snapped. His voice cracked like a whip. “Enough. You’re humiliating yourself.”

“No,” I said. “I’m revealing you.”

He took a step forward, face pale. “Change her clothes,” he told Elara, barely holding onto his Alpha composure. “Take her inside. Quietly. Before this gets worse.”

I saw it then—the fear behind his fury. Not of me. Of exposure.

Good.

I adjusted Ayla’s weight in my arms and smiled. “You buried us once, Damien. But we’ve clawed our way out. This time, the Pack will see the truth with their own eyes.”

And the first howl of war had begun.