The Lycan Regent's Wolfless Fated Mate

Jazlyn POV:

"We just passed the capital gates, Miss Jazlyn. Pack Alpha Hartwell and Luna Camila ordered you to report to the fortress immediately," the Burks family coachman barked through the wooden partition.

I coughed hard into my threadbare wool cloak, tasting iron on my tongue. The three-year-old silver scar deep in my lungs burned with every breath. Silver was the only metal fatal to our kind, capable of scorching a werewolf's inner wolf into ashes. Three years ago, at age sixteen, I took a poisoned silver blade meant for Queen Grandmother Eleanor Mejia. That near-fatal blow earned my father, Hartwell Burks, his noble Pack Alpha title over the southern fortress, elevating our clan from southern backwater wolves to capital elites. Yet my mother, Camila Stewart, claimed I needed to heal my shattered wolf core and exiled me to the freezing, isolated Sunridge Estate for three years.

In my past life, I obeyed her. I rotted in Sunridge while slow silver poison ate my organs, until a staged fire burned me alive. For eighteen years after my death, my ghost lingered in the capital. Watching from the shadows, I finally saw the truth: my mother's beloved niece, Kalia Pugh, and my elder brother, Essex Petty, were both bastard Rogues-fathered by the black-market smuggler Elton Butler.

The Moon Goddess took pity on me and sent me back to the morning my carriage entered Silvermoon Kingdom's capital in a roaring blizzard. Deep in my veins, my dormant White Wolf bloodline-the sacred, direct lineage of the Moon Goddess herself-hummed with icy clarity.

I pulled back the frayed curtain and stared at the coachman's neck. My eyes were as cold as the snow pelting his coat. He flinched, his shoulders hunching under an invisible pressure he couldn't name.

"Turn the horses around," I rasped, my voice carrying the unmistakable weight of high-born blood. "Go straight to the side gate of the Moonstone Palace sanctuary."

The coachman swallowed hard. The reins went slack. "Miss Jazlyn... the Alpha and Luna ordered the fortress. If I steer elsewhere-"

"Then tell them I overruled them." I pushed the partition open a hand's width. "The royal sanctuary. Now."

He flinched, muttered something under his breath, and snapped the reins, steering clear of the main noble avenues until we halted before the towering marble steps of the royal sanctuary.

I stepped down into the ankle-deep snow, walked up to the armored royal guards, and held out a worn bronze token from three years ago.

"Please inform Royal Steward Arthur Hayes that Jazlyn Burks has returned," I said.

Moments later, Arthur Hayes, a high-ranking Beta who managed the inner palace, hurried down the windswept corridor in his dark-gold embroidered cloak. He had been there the day the assassin's blade pierced my chest. When his gaze landed on my pale, hollow cheeks, his footsteps froze.

"Greetings, Miss Jazlyn! By the Moon Goddess... when did you return to the capital? Have your silver burns finally healed?" Arthur's voice trembled as he bowed low.

"Uncle Arthur, during my three years at Sunridge Estate, I prayed daily for the Queen Grandmother's health. I just passed the city gates today and dared not return home before paying my respects to Her Majesty," I said softly, pressing a hand to my chest as my eyes rimmed with tears.

Arthur's gaze dropped to my washed-out linen robe, my bare wrists, and the lack of a single maid behind me. His jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring with obvious disgust toward the Burks clan.

"Good child, your devotion is unmatched! Her Majesty is meditating in the inner sanctuary. Follow me!" Arthur turned and led me past heavy-armored wolf guards into a warm pavilion scented with calming cedarwood.

On a cushioned couch in the center sat Eleanor Mejia, the Queen Grandmother and the true political pillar of the royal court. Hearing our footsteps, she opened her golden-amber wolf eyes and sat bolt upright.

"Jazlyn? Is that my Jazlyn? Quick, bring her to me!" Eleanor's voice shook as she waved her attendants forward.

I walked over and knelt by her couch, letting my freezing fingertips brush her warm palm. A suppressed cough tore from my throat. The collar of my faded robe shifted, revealing the ugly, blackened edge of the silver burn over my collarbone.

"You foolish child, your heart meridian was damaged back then! Why didn't you stay in the south to recuperate? How dare that old fool Hartwell let you travel in rags like this?" Eleanor stroked my thin spine, her chest heaving with rising fury.

"Please calm your anger, Your Majesty," I whispered, lowering my eyelashes. "Father and Mother are busy with fortress military affairs. My cousin Kalia has been unwell lately, so the pack's finances are tight. As the eldest daughter, I dare not ask for luxury."

Beside us, Arthur let out a cold snort. "Your Majesty, this old servant heard that the Burks pack recently spent fortunes on that cousin's wardrobe, even dealing with black-market salt merchants, while cutting off the monthly allowance of our royal savior."

Golden fire flared in Eleanor's eyes, the wolf totem embroidered on her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Absurd! A distant outsider dares to trample over the savior of the royal family?" Eleanor snapped. She slid a strand of seventy-year-old glowing blue beads-her prized Moonstone Rosary, blessed by generations of high shamans-off her left wrist and pushed it onto mine.

The moment the cool beads touched my skin, pure lunar energy surged into my damaged veins, soothing the icy ache in my lungs.

"Jazlyn, I wear this Moonstone Rosary every day. Seeing it is like seeing me in person! Wear it back to your fortress. I want to see who in the Burks pack dares to touch a hair on your head!" Eleanor commanded.

"Jazlyn thanks Your Majesty for your grace," I murmured, bowing my head to hide the icy curve of my lips.

Arthur personally assembled a squad of royal guards in dark-gold armor to escort my carriage. Out on the broad central avenue, noble war chariots pulled aside and bowed as our royal banners passed through the howling blizzard. Soon, the ancient marble archway of the Burks fortress loomed ahead, where several servants huddled in the wind, waiting to watch my humiliation. I slowly turned the cool moonstone beads around my wrist as the carriage rolled to a stop at the bottom of the front steps.

Jazlyn POV:

At the top of the front steps, the main black-iron gates of the Burks fortress remained tightly shut. Only a narrow side door on the right-used daily for dumping swill and hauling rotten meat-stood half-open.

My coachman jumped down into the snow. Standing on the stone steps with her arms crossed was Jeana Hicks, my mother Camila's most trusted head maid. She looked down her nose at my carriage curtain.

"The eldest miss is finally back," Jeana called out in a shrill, grating voice. "Luna Camila ordered that since you've picked up the filthy stench of low-born Rogues in the countryside, you might taint our pureblood pack inside. Take the side door to your courtyard and wash yourself first."

In my past life, I screamed and fought at this filthy side door, only to be labeled a rabid, disrespectful embarrassment by my family before the guards shoved me down and broke my wrist.

Before I could move, a long hand in a white velvet glove ripped the carriage curtain open. Royal Steward Arthur Hayes stepped out, his face dark as iron.

"Insolent wretch! Are your wolf eyes blind? Open them wide and see where this carriage came from!" Arthur's roar echoed across the empty forecourt like thunder.

Hit full-force by the suffocating aura of a high-ranking royal Beta, Jeana's knees buckled. She crashed onto the freezing stone slabs with a loud thud. Behind Arthur, dozens of royal wolf guards in dark-gold armor marched forward, leveling their halberds and surrounding the fortress entrance.

"Decree from the Queen Grandmother!" Arthur unrolled a gold-silk scroll, his voice booming. "The eldest daughter of the Burks pack protected the crown with her life and is granted a royal escort home! Anyone who disrespects her status shall be executed for treason!"

Heavy, frantic footsteps pounded from inside the courtyard. Carrying a wave of panicked Alpha pheromones, my father, Pack Alpha Hartwell Burks, sprinted out through the hastily opened main gates with the clan elders. Right behind him came Camila Stewart in a lavish peacock-blue fur cloak, with my cousin Kalia Pugh clinging timidly to her arm.

When Camila saw me standing in the center of the royal guard formation, the polite smile froze on her face, replaced by a flash of raw panic and venom.

"Greetings, Lord Steward! Forgive me for not welcoming the royal guard in time!" Hartwell dropped to one knee in the snow, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

Arthur gave a cold grunt, not even bothering to tell my father to rise. Instead, he turned and bowed slightly to me. "Miss Jazlyn, please enter through the main gate."

Servants scrambled to unroll a deep red carpet over the snow. I walked past Camila's bloodless face and Kalia's trembling shoulders, the Moonstone Rosary on my wrist glowing with a bright blue halo. My father's pupils shrank to pinpricks when he spotted the beads. As a Pack Alpha whose title relied entirely on royal favor, he knew exactly what the Queen Grandmother's personal treasure meant.

We moved into the gilded central council hall. After Arthur finished the formal handover and whispered a few reminders to me, he led the royal guards back to the palace.

The instant the heavy iron doors shut, the warmth in the hall vanished. Camila wiped away her fear and put on the pained expression of a long-suffering mother.

"Jazlyn, making such a huge fuss upon your return... if word reaches the Council of Elders, people will think we mistreated you. You've always been so petty," Camila sighed, shaking her head.

Kalia immediately reddened her eyes and spoke in a soft, fragile voice, "Yes, Cousin. Auntie had the servants clean out the guest quarters for you days ago..."

"Guest quarters?" I raised an eyebrow with a faint smile, looking straight at Camila. "Before I left, I lived in the Rosewood Wing, the brightest courtyard with the best geothermal runes in the fortress."

Camila's expression flickered before she raised her voice self-righteously. "Your cousin suffered nightmares recently! The healer said her body is weak and needs the Rosewood Wing's geothermal array to nourish her spirit! As her elder sister, can't you even spare a single courtyard? Besides, Kalia copies sacred scriptures at the sanctuary every day for our pack's reputation. With your broken, wolfless body, living in such a fine wing is a complete waste!"

In the corners of the hall, several branch-family relatives whispered among themselves, clearly used to this outsider cousin lording over the rightful heir.

I didn't scream or argue like I had in my past life. Twirling the cool moonstone beads on my wrist, I walked calmly to the high seat where my grandmother, Dowager Burks-the Elder Matron of the clan-sat sipping tea, and knelt with impeccable grace.

"Mother is right to scold me. Since Cousin's body is so precious, I would never dare fight her for it," I said, my voice clear and gentle.

The Dowager's hand paused on her teacup, surprise flashing in her sharp old eyes.

"However, during my three years in the south, I worried constantly about Grandmother's aching knees," I continued, looking up at her with pure devotion. "I heard the warm pavilion beside Grandmother's chambers is empty. May I stay there to serve your medicine morning and night?"

Camila's face twisted as if she had swallowed a live coal. The Dowager was an ancient, pureblood high-ranking female wolf whose word carried immense weight in the clan; her side pavilion was a place of honor reserved only for the most favored heir.

"It is rare for you to be so filial. Three years away has made you much more sensible," the Dowager said, her gaze lingering on the royal rosary on my wrist before a satisfied smile touched her lips. "Granted. Starting today, Jazlyn will move into my side pavilion and study the Moon Goddess scriptures with me daily."

Kalia dug her fingernails deep into her palms, her sweet smile cracking at the edges. I rose, bowed gracefully, and brushed past Camila's stiff shoulder toward the rear corridor, leaning in to whisper so only she could hear, "Mother, the show has only just begun."

Jazlyn POV:

Leaving Camila frozen in the council hall, I followed the servants down the rear corridor into the Dowager's quiet side pavilion. The rooms smelled of expensive calming incense, though the air carried the strict, watchful pressure of the old matriarch's household.

That first night, instead of rushing to plant spies, I brought a basin of warm water infused with a trace of my awakened White Wolf healing energy and knelt to massage the Dowager's knees, which ached from old silver injuries. The pure warmth melted the stiffness in her joints, drawing a long, relaxed sigh from the usually stern old woman.

The next evening, I accompanied the Dowager to the grand family dining hall for the clan banquet. My eldest sister-in-law, Rosalind, entered holding her one-month-old pup and bowed gratefully to Kalia, who was clinging to Camila's arm.

"Mother, if Cousin Kalia hadn't braved the wind and snow last month to beg for sacred snow-lotus water from the temple outside the city, my pup and I would have died in childbirth," Rosalind said softly.

Several elders at the table nodded in approval. Camila lifted her chin proudly, shooting a sideways glare at me. "Kalia has a kind heart, willing to her own spiritual energy for our pack's heirs-unlike certain people who hold the title of eldest daughter but only know how to demand things."

Kalia quickly ducked her head, looking timid and wronged. "Auntie, please don't say that. I'd gladly shatter my bones for the Burks fortress, as long as Cousin Jazlyn doesn't blame me for taking her courtyard..."

The Dowager patted the back of my hand and murmured, "Jazlyn, Kalia saved your sister-in-law and our eldest grandson. Be more forgiving about the Rosewood Wing so you don't look narrow-minded."

In my past life, those words felt like ice water poured over my head, driving me to scream that Kalia was a fraud until everyone called me a jealous madwoman. Yet during my eighteen years as a ghost, I had seen the secret temple records: Kalia hadn't gone to pray for holy water at all-she had used the trip to meet her black-market benefactor, Elton Butler, in a private tavern!

"Grandmother is right. Cousin saved two lives; I admire her too much to ever hold a grudge," I replied with a bright, flawless smile.

The tension at the table eased, and Camila opened her mouth, looking ready to ask that the Rosewood Wing's deed be permanently transferred to Kalia. Before she could speak, I set my spoon down against my porcelain bowl.

"Speaking of which, it's truly wondrous," I remarked casually, tilting my head as I studied Kalia under the chandelier light. "Looking closely tonight, I noticed that Cousin Kalia's brow bone, her jawline, and even the way she lifts her chin when sipping tea look identical to Mother's."

Clatter!

The ivory fork in Camila's hand slipped and crashed onto her porcelain plate, the sharp noise slicing through the chatter.

The entire banquet hall fell dead silent. Even the ambient pheromones in the room rippled with sudden unease. With my heightened White Wolf senses, I caught the sharp, sour stench of cold sweat erupting from Camila's pores-the unmistakable reek of a guilty liar cornered.

"W-what nonsense are you spouting?" Camila's voice cracked high and shrill as she lurched to her feet, her cheek twitching violently. "A niece resembling her aunt is completely normal! What is there to make a fuss about?"

Her eyes darted around the table in panic. At the head seat, the Dowager narrowed her eyes, her razor-sharp gaze sweeping back and forth between Camila's contorted face and Kalia's stiff features. In ancient werewolf law, bloodline purity was sacred; adultery and passing off a bastard as pack blood carried the penalty of having one's wolf core ripped out and being skinned alive.

Seeing the suspicious shadow darken the Dowager's face, Kalia clutched her chest and coughed weakly to change the subject. "Auntie, please don't argue with Cousin. The Winter Solstice festival is in a few days, and I prepared a huge surprise for the Elder Matron."

"Oh? What did you prepare?" the Dowager asked, looking away from Camila, though her tone remained cool.

Camila seized the lifeline, her face flushing with renewed arrogance. "Mother, Kalia pulled incredible strings to contact the High Priest of the High Temple of the Moon Goddess! She spent five hundred pure gold coins to book the number-one celestial private hall and a supreme purification feast for us on the Winter Solstice!"

Gasps of envy echoed from the branch relatives around the table. The High Temple was the spiritual heart of the kingdom, and its Winter Solstice feast-brewed with holy water and purifying herbs-was the ultimate symbol of noble status.

"Five hundred gold coins... that is nearly half a year of our territory's tax revenue. Kalia is thoughtful," the Dowager said, the frost on her face melting into pleased vanity.

Kalia raised her chin at me in triumph. I lowered my eyes and took a slow sip of cedar tea as the banquet ended and we stepped out into the lantern-lit corridor. Five hundred gold coins of dirty smuggling money from Elton Butler-they had just bought their own execution warrant.