Chapter 5
The life growing inside me was no larger than a seed, but it radiated an ancient, thrumming power that had completely rewired my soul. I rested my hand gently over my flat stomach. With every beat of my heart, I could feel my inner wolf stretching, growing massive and absolute. Carrying a royal Lycan pup had ignited a fierce, protective fire in my veins. My Luna aura, once suppressed and quiet, now pulsed with a heavy, commanding weight that commanded respect from the very air around me. I finally had a family—a true mate who worshipped me and a pup who needed my strength. It was time to stop running from my past.
I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Jackson in his dimly lit war room. The heavy mahogany table between us was covered in sprawling maps, financial ledgers, and thick intelligence files. Jackson’s arm was wrapped firmly around my waist, his thumb drawing slow, soothing circles on my hip as we stared down at the documented sins of the Silverfang Pack.
"Your father has been skimming Lycan Council funds for the better part of a decade," Jackson rumbled, his deep voice vibrating against my side. He tapped a massive finger against a forged bank statement. "And Alpha Reid signed off on every single transaction to keep the Warren family wealthy. Treason, embezzlement, and corruption. I have enough evidence here to strip them of their titles ten times over."
I stared at my father's signature, feeling nothing but cold, sharp clarity. "They built their empire on lies," I whispered, my voice steady. "And they threw me to the wolves to protect it."
"But they threw you to me," Jackson murmured, pressing a warm kiss to my temple. His golden eyes flashed with a lethal promise. "And that will be their fatal mistake."
Before I could reply, the heavy oak doors swung open. Beta Marcus strode into the room, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes dark with barely contained fury. The sharp, bitter scent of his distress immediately put my wolf on edge.
"Speak, Marcus," Jackson commanded, his posture instantly stiffening into that of a king.
"Our spies at the Silverfang border just intercepted a panicked communication," Marcus reported, his voice tight. "It's Marigold. She caught Elena smuggling extra rations to the Omegas in the freezing mud. Marigold made a public spectacle of it. She took a silver-tipped whip to the elder healer for insubordination."
The words hung in the air like poison. Elena. The sweet, fragile woman who had secretly held my hand when my mother died. The only person in that cursed pack house who had ever shown me true kindness.
A deafening roar echoed in my ears. It took me a second to realize the sound was coming from my own chest. A wave of blinding, white-hot rage exploded from my core. The glass tumblers on the war room table shattered instantly. The heavy wooden chairs groaned, pushed back by the sheer, suffocating weight of my amplified aura.
Jackson didn't flinch. He just watched me, his golden eyes wide with dark, absolute pride as his mate embraced her royal power.
I closed my eyes, tuning out the physical world. I bypassed the standard pack mind-link that Reid had violently severed, tapping instead into the specialized, ancient Lycan frequency that Jackson’s mating mark had unlocked within me. It felt like diving into a deep, electric ocean. I cast my consciousness across the miles of forest, searching the Silverfang territory until I found a flickering, pain-filled light.
*Elena?*
There was a sharp gasp in the dark void of my mind. *Lady... Lady Isabella?* Her mental voice was weak, trembling with agony and disbelief. *Is it truly you?*
*It is me,* I projected, pouring every ounce of warmth and strength I had into the connection to soothe her pain. *Listen to me, Elena. I am alive, and I am coming. Tell the Omegas to stand down. Tell them to prepare for a massive shift in power. Do not fight back today. Your nightmare is almost over.*
*Yes, my Princess,* she wept softly, a spark of fierce hope igniting in her fading consciousness. *We will wait for you.*
I snapped my eyes open, severing the link. My chest heaved as I looked up at Jackson. "It's time."
Jackson’s lips curled into a terrifying, beautiful smirk. "Marcus. Summon the elite guard to the courtyard. We ride for Silverfang."
An hour later, I stood in our royal suite, staring at my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Jackson stepped up behind me, holding a massive velvet box. He opened it, revealing a breathtaking, custom-made garment. It was a structured, midnight-black coat woven with intricate silver Lycan crests, lined with thick, luxurious wolf fur. It was armor disguised as high fashion.
He gently draped it over my shoulders. The heavy, rich fabric settled perfectly against my frame, radiating absolute dominance and grace. I didn't look like a broken Luna. I looked like a queen coming to claim her throne.
Hand in hand, we walked out into the freezing winter air of the courtyard. A dozen armored, black SUVs idled in a perfect line, their engines purring with menace. Fifty of Jackson’s most lethal Lycan warriors stood at strict attention, their heads bowed in deep reverence as we approached.
Jackson opened the heavy door of the lead vehicle. He paused, his golden eyes locking onto mine, burning with a possessive, vengeful fire.
"Are you ready for your official territory inspection, Princess?" he asked, his voice a dark, velvety rumble.
I touched the silver crest on my chest, my inner wolf howling for justice. "Take me to Silverfang, Jackson. Let's show them what real power looks like."
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