Unwanted By The Alpha, Honored By The Queen

Ten years ago, a forged letter of treason was found under my bed.

My father, the Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack, exiled me into the frozen mountains without a second thought to save his own reputation.

Now, they suddenly summoned me back to the manor.

I thought they had finally discovered my innocence, but the truth was sickening. My father's lungs were failing, and they desperately needed my healing skills to save his life.

Worse yet, my half-sister Serena-the one who had planted the fake letters-was parading around in stolen jewels, preparing for her grand mating ceremony.

And my fated mate, Lucien, who had stood by and watched me get dragged away in the snow, was now a celebrated Alpha.

My family didn't just want me to heal my father. They planned to use my broken mate bond to demand a massive fifty thousand gold coin compensation from Lucien's pack to save their own bankrupt territory.

They threw me away like garbage, and now they wanted to sell my broken heart for gold.

They still thought I was that weak, pathetic Omega who would cry and beg for their love and acceptance.

But ten years in the wild had awakened the ancient White Wolf inside me.

I stepped into the Great Hall, pulled out my High Healer badge, and slammed the original forged letters onto the table.

"I do not want your gold, and I have no duty to this pack."

This time, I was going to tear their perfect lies apart.

Chapter 1

Elara POV:

The thick, wet mist of the Healers' Sanctuary condensed into cold beads on the coarse weave of my linen cloak. From the valley's edge, I regarded the scene below: a cumbersome timber coach, harnessed to four immense black horses whose breath plumed in the damp air. Emblazoned on the carriage door was the tarnishing silver crest of the Silvermoon Pack-a crescent moon entwined with vines. A silent assembly of warriors stood guard, clad in stiff, oiled leather and bearing the weight of unpolished iron broadswords. At their head stood Kael, my older brother and Beta to the pack, an enforcer of the very laws that had cast me out.

Ten years had carved new lines into his face.

"Elara of the Silvermoon," Kael's voice was a deep toll of sound in the valley's stillness.

I did not move. I did not look at his eyes, my gaze settling on a loose thread on his expensive velvet coat. "I do not use that name anymore," I heard my own voice echo back, like the crunch of dry twigs, devoid of inflection. "I am just Elara."

A muscle jumped in Kael's jaw, a small, frustrated tremor.

"Father is dying," Kael stated, the words clipped and formal. "His lungs are failing. The Royal Healers can do nothing. You must come back."

My knuckles went white around the handle of my medical case. I remembered the scrape of that same Alpha's quill as he signed the parchment that banished me-on the pretense of letters from rogue wolves discovered beneath my mattress. I had been an Omega then, a thing of no consequence, easily discarded to preserve the family's honor.

"The Lycan Queen has issued a royal pardon for all exiles," Kael added into my silence. "You are free to return."

My gaze traveled from the deep pile of his velvet coat to the drab, threadbare wool of my own dress.

"I have my tools," I said. "Let us go."

Kael's lip curled with distaste as he looked at my scuffed leather case. He made a sharp, dismissive gesture to one of his warriors.

"Go to the village market," Kael commanded. "Purchase a silk dress for her. A dark color, suitable for a noblewoman. We cannot present her at the castle looking like a mendicant."

I offered no argument, turning my head for a final look at the mist-shrouded valley. In the deep shadows of the pines, the Elder of the Sanctuary was watching. He met my gaze and tapped a withered hand over his heart-a silent command. Do not hide the wolf inside you any longer. Let the White Wolf breathe. I inclined my head in a gesture of profound respect before turning and ascending into the coach.

For three days the coach lumbered over rutted dirt roads that cut through dark, ancient forests. On the third day, we stopped at a roadside inn, the air within thick with the smell of cheap ale and scorched meat.

Across the wooden table, Kael was watching me. The dry bread was like sawdust in my mouth, and I ignored his gaze. Then, a familiar pressure brushed against the edges of my consciousness-a Mind-Link, the silent bridge of thought used by wolves of the same pack.

Elara, Kael's voice intruded into the privacy of my mind. Are you still angry about the past?

I did not flinch, but let it hover at the edge of my consciousness before, like shutting a rusted iron gate, I slammed the connection shut.

Kael gasped, the fork clattering from his fingers onto the plate. He stared at me, his shock palpable; a Beta's mental command was formidable, and I had severed it without effort.

"You have changed," Kael whispered.

"Ten years in the cold mountains will change anyone," I said aloud.

Kael cleared his throat and took a sip of water.

"You should know," he began, his words measured, "that the Crescent Pack thrives. Alpha Lucien does well."

The name produced no tremor in my hand, no catch in my breath. Lucien. The mate the Moon Goddess had decreed for me. Ten years ago, he had believed the lies. He had stood before the entire pack and watched as they drove the knife of their judgment into my name, a wound that still ached with a phantom cold whenever the snows fell.

"He is to form a new bond," Kael said, his eyes searching my face for a reaction. "His chosen mate is from a powerful allied pack. The Marking ceremony is next month."

I turned my gaze to the grimy windowpane of the inn, to the bleak landscape beyond. The White Wolf inside me was not a frozen lake; it was a glacier, ancient and unmoving.

"His neck is of no consequence to me," I said, my voice flat.

The tension eased from his shoulders. He leaned forward.

"Good," he repeated. "Because your half-sister, Serena, is to be wed at the month's end."

I slowly turned my head, the motion deliberate, and met his eyes. Serena. The name was a foul taste in my memory-the glint of my mother's stolen jewelry on her throat, the faint, cloying scent of her perfume lingering in my room after the false letters had been planted.

"She is to have her mating ceremony with Alpha Cedric," Kael continued, "Lucien's younger brother. Our two packs will at last be united."

His eyes began to glow with a faint yellow light, and the air in the small room grew thick and heavy, pressing down on my shoulders like a physical weight-the subtle application of a Beta's dominance.

"Do not speak of the old case when we arrive," he commanded. "You were brought back to heal Father, and to ensure Serena's ceremony proceeds without incident. Do not jeopardize our pack's alliance."

I did not shrug off the pressure. I allowed him the illusion of his control.

"I am here only to practice medicine," I said softly.

But as Kael turned to settle the bill with the innkeeper, tossing gold coins onto the counter, I felt a slow, aching expansion deep in my spine, something that had been dormant for a decade stretching its limbs between my vertebrae, pumping scalding blood into my fingertips. They thought they were bringing home a broken Omega. They had no idea what was waking up inside me.

Elara POV:

The iron-rimmed wheels of the coach ground the decaying autumn leaves into a damp paste on the path.

As we drew nearer, the Silvermoon Manor clawed its way out of the fog-a hulking Gothic edifice of dark grey stone, its tall towers piercing the belly of the overcast sky.

The memory was not a feeling, but a physical sensation: the phantom scrape of rough stone against my cheekbones, the ghost of a plea caught in my throat.

Ten years ago, I had been dragged down these very steps, my fingers scrabbling for purchase, begging Father to re-examine the letters, swearing the script was not my own. The warriors had only knotted their hands in my hair and thrown me into a splintered wooden cart.

The carriage shuddered to a halt. The heavy oak doors of the manor groaned open.

A silent assembly of low-ranking wolves, Omegas and junior warriors, stood in the courtyard, their wide eyes fixed on the carriage.

I stepped out. I wore the dark purple silk dress Kael had bought for me. My spine was a rod of iron. My chin was high.

A figure descended the stone steps in a cascade of white lace.

It was Serena. Her blonde hair was arranged in a complex architecture of curls.

"Elara!" Serena cried out.

She spread her arms in a gesture of magnanimous welcome and ran toward me. As she approached, a cloying scent preceded her.

Wolves communicate through the subtle language of scent. Serena was projecting an elaborate fiction of crushed jasmine and the salt-sting of tears-the scent of profound sorrow.

But beneath that theatrical jasmine, my finely-honed senses detected something else, an undercurrent not of sour milk, but of frost-bitten grass, a scent that carried a dry, stinging sensation into the back of my throat. It was the smell of carefully concealed panic.

She stopped directly before me and seized my hands.

"Oh, my dear sister," Serena said, her voice pitched to carry to the assembled crowd. "I have missed you so much. I prayed to the Moon Goddess every night for your safe return."

I looked down at her hands enveloping mine. Her skin was warm, but a fine tremor betrayed the tension in her grip.

"I am so glad you are back," Serena smiled sweetly. "You must stand by my side at my mating ceremony. You will be my maid of honor. It will show everyone that our family is healed."

She meant to use me as a prop, a testament to her own forgiveness before the eyes of the Crescent Pack.

I slowly withdrew my hands from her grasp.

"I am here to see the Alpha," I said. My voice, though quiet, carried across the courtyard with unnatural clarity. "Where is his room?"

Serena's smile did not vanish; it cracked, like cheap plaster. She moved to block the stairs.

"Father is resting," Serena said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "He is very weak. He cannot handle sudden shocks. Besides, you just traveled for days. You still smell like the wild rogues of the mountains."

She was calling me unclean before the entire pack.

I took a single, deliberate step forward. I allowed a minuscule fraction of my White Wolf's true nature to bleed into the air around me.

The humid air grew instantly, bitingly cold. Serena gasped and recoiled, her eyes widening in primal fear.

"Your scent is very strange, Serena," I said clearly. "You smell like you are recovering from a terrible fever. But your skin is glowing, and your breathing is perfectly normal."

A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd of wolves.

"I am a Healer," I continued, staring directly into her eyes. "I have spent ten years studying diseases. I am very good at curing illnesses. But I am even better at exposing those who feign them."

The color did not just leave Serena's face; it seemed to be violently sucked away, leaving behind a waxy, translucent mask. Her fabricated jasmine scent vanished, replaced by the acrid stench of scorched pride.

"Enough," Kael's voice boomed behind me.

He walked past us and glared at Serena. Then he looked at me.

"Follow me, Elara," Kael said. "Father is awake."

I swept past Serena without a second glance and followed Kael into the dark, damp-smelling halls of the castle. We ascended a wide spiral staircase to the highest tower.

Kael pushed open a heavy oak door.

The Alpha's bedroom smelled of stale blood and bitter herbs. The curtains were drawn tightly against the daylight.

Lord Silas lay in a massive four-poster bed. He was a ruin of the Alpha I remembered. His hair was thin and white. His skin was the color of ash.

He opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Elara," Silas rasped. His voice was a dry rustle of leaves, devoid of the Alpha's Command it once held.

I walked to the side of his bed and opened my leather case.

"Let me check your pulse," I said.

Silas pulled his hand away slightly. He regarded me with a complicated gaze, a mixture of guilt and a stubborn flicker of pride.

"I did what I had to do for the pack," Silas whispered. "Ten years ago. The Royal Guards were watching us. I could not let a rogue sympathizer destroy our name."

"I am not here for apologies," I said. I took his wrist with a firm, clinical grip and pressed my fingers to the thready pulse.

The door creaked open. Serena walked into the room. She stood near the wall and began to sniffle. She was manufacturing that fraudulent scent of sorrow again.

"Father," Serena cried softly. "I tried to welcome her, but she hates me."

I did not turn. I focused my will, not as a wave of energy, but as a change in atmospheric pressure, a heavy, suffocating stillness that filled the room like water.

Serena stopped crying instantly. I heard the scrape of her boots on the stone as the weight of my presence forced her back a step, toward the door.

"Keep her quiet," I told Kael, my eyes fixed on Father's pale arm. "Or I will leave this castle right now, and you can watch your Alpha choke on his own blood."

I released his wrist and stood. The look on Kael's face told me he finally understood: I was not here to beg. I was here to decide who lived and who died.

Elara POV:

Lord Silas suddenly began to cough. It was a wet, ragged sound that spoke of lungs filling with fluid. A fleck of blood appeared at the corner of his lips.

Kael rushed forward and grabbed Serena by the arm.

"Get out," Kael told her. He looked at me. "Both of you, get out. Let the servants clean him first."

I packed my leather case and walked out of the bedroom.

The stone hallway was cold and dark. Torches sputtered in their iron sconces, casting long, dancing shadows.

Serena yanked her arm out of Kael's grip. She waited until Kael went back inside the bedroom, then she turned to me.

Her face was a mask of pure malice.

"Do not think you are special just because the Lycan Queen gave an amnesty," Serena hissed. "You are still the shame of this family."

I leaned against the stone wall and looked at her.

"You are going to see him, aren't you?" Serena smiled a cruel smile. "Alpha Lucien. He will be at my mating ceremony. Are you going to cry when you see his mark on another woman's neck?"

She was prodding the old wound, hoping to see me bleed.

"You are very worried about Lucien," I said slowly. "Are you afraid that if he stands close to me, the Moon Goddess will force him to recognize me again?"

Serena flinched. The air around her was suddenly tainted with the smell of copper and wet earth-the scent of her composure beginning to rust and crumble.

"He hates you!" she whispered loudly.

"Then you have nothing to worry about," I said. I picked up my case and walked away.

A quiet maid led me to my room. It was in the lowest tower of the castle. The walls were damp. There was no fire in the fireplace. The bed had only one thin blanket.

"Miss Serena said the castle is full because of the upcoming ceremony," the maid said, looking at the floor. "This is the only room left."

"It is fine," I said.

The maid put a small tray of food on the table. It was a piece of hard bread and cold soup.

"Tell Serena something for me," I said as the maid turned to leave.

The maid stopped and nodded.

"Tell her the wolfsbane potion the Alpha is drinking has the wrong ratio of herbs," I said. "It is killing him."

The maid gasped and ran out of the room.

I did not sleep that night. I sat by the window and watched the moon.

The next morning, the door to my room flew open. It hit the stone wall with a loud bang.

Serena marched inside. She was holding a massive dress made of pink silk and pearls.

"How dare you!" Serena screamed. "How dare you question the medicine given to our Alpha!"

I stood up slowly. I walked to the small wooden table and pulled out a piece of clean parchment from my case. I took a charcoal pencil and began to write.

"The Alpha has a strong healing factor," I said calmly while writing. "All wolves do. But his lungs are infected with dark magic from a rogue bite. The current potion uses too much silver-leaf. Silver burns us. It is destroying his natural ability to heal."

I finished writing and held up the parchment. It was a new recipe.

"You are insane," Serena laughed. "That potion was prescribed by the Royal Healer from the Capital. Do you think a banished Omega knows better than the Queen's own doctor?"

"If he takes another dose of the Royal Healer's potion," I said, looking at her dress, "your mating ceremony will be canceled. Because you will be planning a funeral instead."

Serena snatched the parchment from my hand.

"I will show this to the Royal Healer," she sneered. "He is visiting this afternoon. He will have you thrown in the dungeon for practicing false magic."

She turned and left, taking the pink dress with her.

I waited.

Late in the afternoon, heavy footsteps echoed in the hall outside my room.

The door opened. An old man in a long white robe walked in. Kael and Serena were behind him.

The old man was shaking. He held my piece of parchment in his hands.

"Who wrote this?" the Royal Healer demanded. His voice was loud.

"She did," Serena pointed at me. "She is trying to poison my father. Please, tell my brother to lock her up."

The Royal Healer ignored Serena. He walked quickly toward me.

"The balance of moon-flower and crushed bone," the old man whispered, staring at me. "It neutralizes the silver-leaf. It protects the wolf's healing factor while burning the dark magic. It is brilliant. Who is your master?"

I reached into my pocket. I pulled out a heavy bronze badge. It was shaped like a wolf howling at a star.

The Royal Healer gasped. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

"A High Healer of the Sanctuary," the old man said with deep respect.

Kael stared at me, his face a mask of absolute shock. Serena's mouth fell open.

"You made a mistake," I told the Royal Healer.

"I did," he admitted, standing up. "I was foolish. Your recipe will save his life."

"He is lying!" Serena shouted. "She paid him! She is just a dirty Omega!"

The Royal Healer turned around. He raised his hand and slapped Serena hard across the face.

The sound echoed in the damp room.

"Do not insult a High Healer, foolish girl," the old man barked. "She holds more power in her hands than your entire pack."

Serena held her red cheek. She looked at me with a hatred so profound, it felt like a physical chill in the air. But this time, I knew she was truly afraid.

I tucked the bronze badge back into my pocket. The game had just changed-and Serena had no idea how badly she was losing.