The woman staring back at me in the mirror looked like a trap wrapped in silk—beautiful enough to lure prey, deadly enough to destroy them. Tonight, I would discover which one I truly was.
Silver-white hair cascaded down my shoulders like a waterfall of moonlight, while deep purple eyes sparkled with mysterious promise in the candlelight. The custom-made white gown hugged my curves perfectly, and the crescent-shaped birthmark on my chest pulsed with faint warmth beneath the sheer fabric—a mark that had always set me apart, though I'd never understood why.
Tonight was my eighteenth birthday—my coming-of-age ceremony—and the most important night in the Blackthorne family's history. As the pure-blood Alpha heir, I would officially receive the loyalty of our pack members under the witness of all seven kingdoms, then celebrate my engagement to Victor Sterling, heir to one of the most powerful werewolf dynasties in Europe.
"Miss, you look absolutely breathtaking," my maid Lily whispered as she adjusted my dress train, unable to hide her admiration. "Master Victor will be completely enchanted."
I traced the crescent birthmark on my chest, feeling its familiar warmth pulse beneath my fingertips like a second heartbeat. Since childhood, this mark had been the symbol of my pure bloodline, the reason for my pack's reverence and fear. Tonight, it seemed more active than usual, almost... expectant.
"I certainly hope so," I murmured, turning gracefully before the mirror as my skirts bloomed like a white flower. "Victor should have arrived by now, shouldn't he?"
"Yes, Miss. Master Sterling is in the great hall mingling with the guests. I heard even representatives from the Nightfall Dynasty have come." Lily's eyes sparkled with worship. "Tonight truly is a gathering of stars."
I nodded, taking a deep breath that did nothing to calm my suddenly racing heart. As the sole heir of the Blackthorne family, I had been raised on duty and honor since birth. After tonight, I would officially become the leader of this ancient bloodline, and my union with Victor would merge two of the most influential werewolf houses in existence.
Music and laughter drifted up from below, where hundreds of guests awaited tonight's main event. The sound should have been comforting, but something in the air felt... wrong. Electric. As if the very atmosphere was holding its breath.
"Come, Lily. It's time to show them what a true Blackthorne heir looks like."
I lifted my skirts and descended the spiral staircase with practiced elegance. Crystal chandelier light cascaded over me like liquid diamonds, and the entire great hall fell silent. Hundreds of eyes turned toward me—some filled with reverence, others burning with envy, and a few flickering with something that looked almost like... pity?
Victor waited at the bottom of the stairs, devastatingly handsome in his formal attire. His golden hair was perfectly styled, and those striking blue eyes sparkled with unmistakable pride—or was it triumph? When he saw me descending, he extended his arm with that charming smile I'd fallen for years ago.
"My beautiful bride-to-be," he whispered in my ear as I took his arm, his breath warm against my skin, "after tonight, you'll finally be mine."
Something in his tone made my birthmark pulse with sudden heat, but I pushed the unease aside. This was my night. Our night.
I smiled graciously as we moved through the crowd, acknowledging the gathered elite. These were Europe's most distinguished werewolf aristocrats, their presence here tonight proof of the Blackthorne family's unshakeable status. Yet as we passed, I caught fragments of whispered conversations that made my blood run cold:
"...always wondered about that mark of hers..." "...never seen a pure-blood with purple eyes..." "...Sterling must know something we don't..."
"Distinguished guests," my adoptive father, Patriarch Aldric Blackthorne, stepped into the center of the hall and raised his crystal goblet. His voice carried clearly over the crowd, but I noticed his hands trembling slightly. "Tonight we gather to witness my daughter Seraphina's coming of age, and to celebrate her engagement to the Sterling family heir."
Thunderous applause filled the air, but it felt forced somehow, as if the guests were waiting for something else. I nodded gracefully in acknowledgment, my birthmark now burning so intensely I had to resist the urge to press my hand against it.
"Now," Aldric continued, his voice gaining strength, "let us conduct the ancient bloodline verification ceremony." He produced an ornate crystal orb from its velvet case—the Blackthorne family's sacred relic, passed down through a thousand years of tradition. The orb seemed to pulse with its own inner light, responding to the power in the room. "Pure-blood heir's essence will cause the sacred sphere to emit divine white light, confirming the worthiness of our bloodline."
I stepped forward without hesitation, though something deep in my chest whispered warnings I couldn't understand. I had performed this ritual countless times throughout my life, each instance confirming my pristine heritage. Tonight would be no different.
I bit my fingertip with practiced ease, letting crimson drops fall onto the crystal surface. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, and I waited for the familiar white radiance to appear, for the gasps of approval from the crowd.
Nothing happened.
The crystal remained completely transparent—not even the faintest glimmer of light. The silence in the hall became deafening, pressing against my eardrums like a physical weight.
"That... that can't be right," I whispered, staring at the lifeless orb. My birthmark was now burning like fire against my chest, and I could swear the crescent was glowing beneath my dress.
Hushed whispers began rippling through the crowd like poison spreading through water:
"The orb shows nothing..." "How is that possible?" "She's not pure-blood Alpha?"
My heartbeat thundered in my ears as panic clawed at my throat. "Try again," I said, my voice barely steady. "There must be something wrong with the orb."
"Try again," Aldric echoed, though his face had gone pale as parchment.
I let several more drops of blood fall onto the sacred sphere, pressing my palm against my burning birthmark to stop its insistent pulsing. The result was identical—absolutely no reaction whatsoever.
The whispers grew louder, more vicious:
"If she's not pure-blood, then what is she?" "Mixed-blood trash masquerading as nobility?" "The Blackthorne family has been harboring a pretender?"
Each word hit me like a physical blow, and I felt the world tilting dangerously beneath my feet. This had to be some terrible mistake. I was pure-blood Alpha. I was Seraphina Blackthorne. I had to be!
That's when Victor suddenly released my arm and stepped backward, putting deliberate distance between us. The movement was so calculated, so clearly rehearsed, that ice flooded my veins.
"Victor?" I looked at him desperately, expecting him to defend me as he always had, to stand by my side against these impossible accusations.
But the expression on his face made my blood turn to acid—it wasn't anger or bewilderment, but cold satisfaction. The look of a predator who had successfully cornered his prey.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Victor cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the hall's chaos like a blade. Every person in the room turned toward him with expectant faces, as if they'd been waiting for this moment. "I believe I owe everyone an explanation."
He withdrew a document from his jacket with theatrical precision, displaying it for all to see. The paper looked official, stamped with seals I didn't recognize.
"This is Seraphina's authentic bloodline analysis, conducted by independent authorities. She is indeed not a pure-blood Alpha, but rather a mixed-blood of unknown origin—possibly not even carrying true Blackthorne genetics."
The hall erupted in gasps and exclamations of shock, the sound hitting me like physical blows. I felt the world spinning around me, my legs trembling as if they might give out entirely. The faces around me blurred into a sea of sneering mouths and cruel eyes.
"This can't be real..." My voice came out as barely a whisper, but it might as well have been a scream in the deadly silence that followed. "Victor, what are you saying..."
"I'm deeply sorry, Seraphina." His voice held not an ounce of genuine regret—instead, it dripped with barely concealed glee. "But I cannot marry a woman of impure blood. The Sterling family's honor cannot be contaminated by such... unfortunate associations."
His words didn't just slice through my heart—they shredded it, each syllable a poisoned dagger twisted deeper with calculated cruelty.
"You knew, didn't you?" I stared at him as tears blurred my vision, my voice breaking on each word. "You've known all along, and you chose tonight—my most vulnerable moment—to destroy me!"
Victor shrugged with disgusting nonchalance, that familiar charming smile twisting into something monstrous. "Business is war, darling. Your naivety has grown rather... tiresome. Did you really think I'd tie myself to damaged goods?"
The crowd exploded into even more vicious commentary, their voices blending into a symphony of cruelty:
"A half-breed dared to masquerade as a pure-blood heir!" "The audacity! The deception!" "How dare such filth stand among us?" "Blackthorne's reputation is in ruins!"
Each word lashed against me like a whip, and I could taste blood where I'd bitten my tongue to keep from screaming. I turned desperately toward Aldric, hoping against hope that my adoptive father would speak in my defense, would call this madness what it was.
But his face showed only disappointment and rage—not at the crowd, but at me.
"You have deceived us all, Seraphina," Aldric's voice was colder than arctic wind, cutting through me with surgical precision. "From this moment forward, you are no longer the Blackthorne family heir. You are no longer our daughter."
"No!" The word tore from my throat like a battle cry. "This isn't true! I am Seraphina Blackthorne! I am pure-blood Alpha!"
But no one believed me. Laughter, mockery, and contempt crashed over me in relentless waves, drowning out my protests:
"Get out!" "Half-breed scum!" "Lying whore!" "Pretender!"
Through the crowd's roaring hatred, I stumbled toward the exit on unsteady legs. Behind me, Victor's triumphant laughter echoed like the howl of a victorious predator, accompanied by the guests' gleeful whispers and pointed fingers.
I burst through the great doors and ran into the moonlit courtyard, the cool night air hitting my fevered skin like a slap. I collapsed onto the manicured grass, my elaborate gown spreading around me like spilled milk, now stained with dirt and my own tears.
Above me, the full moon watched with cold indifference as I wept, its silver light offering no comfort. In a single night, I had fallen from beloved pure-blood heiress to exiled half-breed trash. My fiancé had betrayed me with surgical precision, my family had abandoned me without hesitation, and even my very identity had been revealed as an elaborate lie.
"Why..." I whispered to the silent moon, my voice breaking on each word, "Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this?" But the moon offered no answers, only cold light that illuminated the ruins of my life.
That's when I felt it—a strange warmth spreading across my chest like liquid fire.
I looked down and gasped. My crescent birthmark was glowing with intense silver light, pulsing like a beacon in the darkness. The luminescence was beautiful, almost hypnotic, casting ethereal shadows across my tear-stained face. But more than that, it felt... alive. Responsive. As if it had been waiting for this moment of absolute despair to finally reveal itself.
But there was no one left to witness this miracle.
As despair threatened to swallow me whole, my birthmark suddenly pulsed with searing heat. I lifted my head and saw something impossible—deep within the Black Forest that bordered our estate, points of silver light flickered between the ancient trees, as if answering my mark's call. The lights pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat, growing brighter with each passing second.
A wild, desperate idea formed in my shattered mind.
If I truly wasn't Blackthorne blood, then who was I? What did this glowing birthmark mean? And what was calling to me from the heart of that forbidden forest—the same forest I'd been warned away from my entire life?
Since this world had cast me out with such vicious certainty, I would forge my own path back to power. Let them think they'd broken me. Let them celebrate their victory.
They had no idea what they'd just unleashed.
I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and rose to my feet, moonlight painting my ruined gown silver. My shadow stretched long across the grass like a sword about to be drawn from its sheath.
"Victor Sterling," I spoke his name like a curse, my voice carrying across the silent courtyard with newfound steel, "someday you will pay for tonight's humiliation. You think you've destroyed me, but you've only revealed what I truly am. I swear it on my blood, my pain, and whatever power flows through these veins—you will rue the day you crossed me."
My birthmark flared brighter than ever, as if sealing my vow with supernatural fire. The forest lights pulsed in response, and I felt something ancient and powerful stirring in my chest.
I didn't know who I really was or what destiny awaited me in those dark woods. But I knew with absolute certainty that my real story was just beginning.
The fallen princess was dead. In her place stood something far more dangerous—a woman with nothing left to lose and everything to reclaim.
Let them call me half-breed. Let them mock my heritage. I would return to show them what true power looked like, and when I did, they would all kneel before the queen they had created through their cruelty.
The moon seemed to smile as I walked toward the forest, my birthmark lighting the way like a silver star. Behind me, the sounds of celebration continued in the great hall, but I no longer belonged to that world of lies and pretty facades.
I belonged to whatever was waiting for me in the darkness ahead.
And I could hardly wait to meet it.