Tossed to the Rogues, Bearing the King's Twins

Everyone said I was born a cursed freak.

On the day I was supposed to become Luna, my fated mate Lucas stole my family's territory and publicly rejected me.

He threw me to the rogues on a Blood Moon night.

That was when Adrian, the ruthless Lycan King, found me.

Instead of tearing me apart, he claimed me as his Queen.

He publicly declared that anyone who dared to mock my marked face would pay with their lives.

Whenever Lucas's new mate tried to humiliate me, Adrian forced her to her knees.

Whenever Lucas begged for my forgiveness, Adrian crushed his pack's businesses.

I had never been treated so well before, and I fell completely for him.

I was spoiled rotten, carrying the King's royal twins.

Just before I was due to give birth, I went to surprise Adrian in the dungeon, but I accidentally overheard a conversation.

"Elena's royal blood is the only cure for my Silver Curse," Adrian's cold voice echoed in the dark cell.

"But she's heavily pregnant, Your Majesty!" his Beta whispered in panic. "Extracting it now will kill her and the twins!"

"Do you think I don't know that?" Adrian lowered his voice tightly.

"That's exactly why we staged this entire mating bond from the start!"

***

The wooden comb snagged in my hair, and Greta yanked hard enough to snap my head back.

"Hold still, you wolfless freak."

I gripped the vanity until the sting passed. In the mirror, the black crescent on the right side of my face looked darker than usual, as if the mark knew what day it was. It stretched from my cheekbone to my jaw, impossible to cover with powder or hair.

Mila dropped a silver pin beside the comb. "Twenty-two years old, no wolf, and still pretending Alpha Lucas is going to crown you Luna. You really never learn."

"Today is not about a crown." I kept my voice even. "It is about the southern woodlands."

The rolled treaty lay beside my hand. My father's seal was pressed into the wax at the bottom, beside Lucas Thorne's. Three years earlier, General Elias had died defending Blood Moon territory from a rogue incursion. Lucas had taken command of his soldiers, his treasury, and his border forts. In return, he had sworn that when I turned twenty-two, my father's lands would pass legally to me and our mating contract would be honored.

I had survived three years in Lucas's house for that promise.

Three years of meals arriving cold because servants "forgot" me. Three years of pack daughters whispering about my face. Three years of Lucas allowing Serena Croft to sit at his right hand while I was told to use the side entrance.

"The law is the law," I said.

Greta laughed. "Then take your precious law downstairs and see whether it protects you."

A ceremonial horn sounded through the manor.

Mila stepped away. "There. Your future is calling."

I took the treaty and left before either woman could see my hand shake.

No escort waited outside my room. No guard offered an arm. By the time I reached the central plaza, hundreds of pack members had already gathered beneath the Blood Moon banners. Their conversations thinned into whispers as I crossed the stones.

The stage at the far end had been built for two.

Lucas stood beneath the ceremonial arch in black Alpha robes, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

His other hand held Serena's.

She wore crimson silk and the moonstone circlet traditionally reserved for the Alpha's chosen Luna.

My stomach went cold.

I climbed the steps anyway.

Lucas watched me approach without expression.

I stopped three feet away and held out the treaty. "The three years are over. Sign the final land decree."

Serena's smile sharpened. "You brought that old thing?"

"It bears the former Alpha's witness mark, my father's seal, and Lucas's signature."

"Lucas," she said sweetly, "tell her."

He took the parchment from me.

For one foolish heartbeat, hope rose in my throat.

Then Lucas turned to the crowd.

"Three years ago, I made a promise to a dying commander," he announced. "I agreed to shelter his daughter until she came of age. I have fulfilled that obligation."

"That is not what the treaty says."

His eyes cut to mine.

I raised my voice so the people in the back could hear. "My father transferred command of his army and temporary stewardship of the southern woodlands to you. Stewardship, Lucas. Not ownership."

A murmur moved through the square.

Lucas's jaw tightened. "Your father is dead."

"His seal is not."

"And you think ink can force me to put a wolfless woman beside me?" He lifted the parchment. "You think I should risk the future of this pack on someone who cannot shift and carries a curse across her face?"

The crowd answered with ugly laughter.

I looked past him to Elder Croft, Serena's father, standing beside the council table. He lowered his eyes.

That told me everything.

"This was arranged before Serena returned," I said. "You already convinced the council to recognize the land as yours."

Lucas smiled for the first time.

"At last."

He tore the treaty down the middle.

The sound was small. Paper against paper. Yet it cut through me more cleanly than a blade.

"No."

I lunged for the pieces. Two guards crossed their spears against my chest and drove me backward.

Lucas tore the halves again, then again, until my father's last legal protection became scraps in his hands.

He threw them into my face.

A sharp edge nicked the black crescent on my cheek.

"The southern woodlands belong to Blood Moon," he said. "And Blood Moon belongs to me."

I stared at the scraps around my boots. "You stole his soldiers. You stole his gold. Now you are stealing the land he died protecting."

Lucas descended one step and bent close enough that no one else could hear.

"I needed your father's loyalists calm while I took control. Keeping you alive did that. They stopped asking questions. They retired. They bent the knee. You have not been useful to me in months."

The last of my hope died with remarkable quiet.

I straightened. "Then say it where they can hear you."

His eyes narrowed.

"Tell them you never intended to honor him."

For a moment I thought pride might stop him.

It did not.

Lucas turned back to the square. "Elena has no wolf, no recognized family authority, and no place in my court. Effective immediately, I strip her of Blood Moon protection and pack status."

Gasps replaced the laughter.

Even Serena shifted uneasily.

The rogue border was not exile in name only. Packless wolves vanished there. Travelers found bones caught in the marsh grass.

Lucas pointed toward me. "Take her cloak. Take the crest. Escort her beyond the southern marker."

A guard ripped the silver clasp from my shoulder. Another tore away the heavy winter cloak my father had given me before his final campaign.

The cold bit through my dress.

"You cannot send her out dressed like that," someone whispered.

Lucas heard.

"She wanted the southern woodlands," he said. "Let her walk through them."

I refused to give him tears.

At the border marker, the guards shoved me past the iron post and tossed my empty satchel at my feet. The gate slammed behind me.

No food. No weapon. No coat.

Only one torn corner of the treaty had caught inside my sleeve. My father's seal was still visible beneath the mud.

I closed my fist around it.

Behind the gate, Lucas called, "If the rogues are merciful, it will be quick."

I turned toward the dark trees.

"If I survive," I said without looking back, "I am coming for everything you stole."

Then a howl rose from the woods ahead of me.

A second answered from much closer.

And I walked into the rogue territory alone.