ARIA'S POV
I wake up screaming.
Pain shoots through my branded arm as I thrash against silk sheets—silk sheets?—trying to escape Celeste and her burning iron. But she's not here. The kitchen's not here. I'm somewhere else entirely.
"Easy." A woman's voice, calm and firm. "You're safe now. The pain medication should kick in soon."
I force my eyes open. A room surrounds me—bigger than the entire omega quarters back home. A fire crackles in a stone fireplace. The bed I'm in could fit five people. And standing beside me is the witch from the forest, her purple eyes glowing softly in the firelight.
"Where—" My voice comes out as a croak.
"Ashenfort. The Lycan King's fortress." She presses a cup to my lips. "Drink. It'll help with the pain and the shock."
I drink because I'm too confused to argue. The liquid tastes like honey and moonlight—if moonlight had a taste—and warmth spreads through my chest, dulling the throb in my arm.
"I'm Sera," the witch says. "Court witch and apparently your new babysitter until you stop looking like a strong wind could kill you."
"I don't understand what's happening."
"Join the club." Sera sits in a chair beside the bed. "I've been alive for one hundred and eighty-nine years, and I've never seen a Moon's Chosen before. We thought your bloodline was extinct."
There's that phrase again. Moon's Chosen. Like it should mean something to me.
"I'm just an omega," I whisper.
"No, honey. You're really not." Sera's expression softens. "But we'll get to that. First, let's deal with this." She gently unwraps the bandage on my arm.
I look away. I don't want to see what Celeste did to me.
"It's healing already," Sera says, surprise in her voice. "Much faster than it should. Your bloodline's power is trying to break through even now."
"I don't have power. Omegas don't—"
"Stop." Sera's voice is sharp. "Stop repeating the lies they told you. Omega is a rank, not a death sentence. And you're not even really an omega. You're something much older, much stronger. Someone just made sure you'd never know it."
Before I can ask what she means, the door opens.
Kaine enters, and the room suddenly feels smaller. He's wearing a black shirt now, but he's still terrifying—all height and muscle and those ice-blue eyes that see too much.
"You're awake," he says.
I try to sit up straighter, to look less pathetic, but my body won't cooperate. Everything hurts.
"Don't." Kaine moves closer. "You're injured and malnourished. Rest."
"The king is actually capable of basic kindness," Sera mutters. "Mark this day in history."
Kaine ignores her, his attention fixed on me. "We need to talk about what happened in the forest. That light—"
"Was Moon's Chosen magic recognizing its own kind," Sera interrupts. "Your Lycan bloodline called to hers. They're compatible—rare for werewolf and Lycan."
"I'm not compatible with anyone," I say quickly. "I'm nobody. I'm nothing. I don't know what you think I am, but—"
"Aria." Kaine's voice stops my panic cold. He crouches beside the bed so we're eye level, just like in the forest. "What did they do to you? To make you believe you're worthless?"
The question cracks something inside me.
"Everything," I whisper. "They did everything. For seventeen years after my parents died, the pack used me for labor. Then when the mate bond snapped with Damien, I thought it would get better. But he rejected me. Kept the bond active so he could use my healing abilities on his warriors. Made me serve while he loved someone else. And everyone—*everyone*—told me I deserved it because omegas are weak and worthless and—"
My voice breaks.
Kaine's jaw clenches. Frost spreads across the floor from where he's kneeling. "Damien Silvercrest is a dead man."
"You can't kill an alpha just because—"
"I'm the Lycan King. I can do whatever I want." His eyes glow silver. "And what I want is to rip out his throat for what he did to you."
The violent protectiveness in his voice shocks me. No one's ever defended me before.
"Why do you care?" I ask. "You don't know me. I'm just useful for your Summit."
Something painful flickers across Kaine's face. "Three hundred years ago, I had a mate. A fated mate. Werewolf packs killed her because they feared what our child would become—a hybrid of both bloodlines. I've been alone ever since." His hand hovers near mine but doesn't touch. "I know what betrayal feels like. What it's like when the people who should protect you destroy you instead. So yes, I care. Because no one deserves what happened to you."
Tears burn my eyes. I've cried so much over the years, but these tears feel different. Like maybe someone finally sees me as a person instead of a thing.
"The contract," I say. "One year as your queen. When does it start?"
"After you heal," Kaine says. "After Sera teaches you what you are and how to access your power. After you're strong enough to face the wolves who hurt you without fear."
"That could take forever. I've been weak my whole life."
"You've been *suppressed* your whole life," Sera corrects. "There's a difference. Someone cursed your bloodline, probably when you were born. They locked away your power, made you appear as the lowest rank. But the curse is already weakening now that you're away from Silvercrest territory."
"Who would curse a baby?"
"Someone who knew what you'd become," Kaine says quietly. "Someone who feared you."
A knock on the door interrupts us. A massive Lycan warrior enters—even bigger than Kaine, with scars covering his arms.
"My king, we have a problem," he says. "Silvercrest Pack just sent a message. Alpha Damien demands the return of his 'stolen property.' He's threatening war if we don't hand over his omega within three days."
My blood turns to ice. Damien's coming for me.
"Let him come," Kaine says coldly. "I'd love an excuse to end him."
"There's more." The warrior's expression darkens. "He claims the omega stole something valuable from the pack—a sacred artifact. He's convinced the Alpha Council that she's a thief. They're demanding her arrest and execution."
"I didn't steal anything!" I gasp.
"Of course you didn't," Sera says. "He's lying to get you back so he can kill you quietly."
Kaine stands, his full height making him look like the monster he is. "Send word to Damien Silvercrest. Tell him his omega is now under Lycan protection. If he wants her, he can come to Ashenfort and try to take her. I'll be waiting."
The warrior grins. "It'll be a pleasure, my king."
He leaves, and I stare at Kaine in horror. "You can't start a war over me. I'm not worth—"
"Stop saying you're not worth anything." Kaine's eyes burn into mine. "You're Moon's Chosen. You're the last of a blessed bloodline. And even if you weren't—even if you really were just an omega—you'd still be worth protecting. Worth fighting for."
"But the Alpha Council—"
"Will learn that Lycans don't bow to werewolf politics," Sera finishes. "You're ours now, sweetie. Get used to it."
Before I can respond, pain explodes in my chest. The mate bond—it's still there, stretched thin but not broken. And through it, I feel Damien's rage. His fury. His determination.
He's not just coming for me because I ran.
He's coming because he knows what I am. What I've always been.
"Kaine," I gasp. "He knew. Damien knew about my bloodline. That's why he kept me weak. That's why he never fully rejected me. He was keeping me suppressed on purpose."
Kaine and Sera exchange dark looks.
"Then he knows you're Moon's Chosen," Sera whispers. "He knows that if you come into your full power, you could command any wolf—even alphas. You'd be unstoppable."
"Which means," Kaine says, his voice deadly quiet, "he won't stop until you're dead."
The mate bond pulses again, and this time I feel something worse than rage.
I feel Damien's fear.
He's terrified of what I might become.