After My Mate Crowned His Mistress as Luna

The training grounds stretched behind the royal palace, a wide expanse of packed earth surrounded by ancient oaks. I'd been here every morning for three weeks now, learning to move like something other than prey.

Augustus circled me, his movements fluid and predatory. "Again."

I lunged, but my body betrayed me—hesitating, pulling back at the last second. Years of conditioning screamed that attacking an Alpha meant punishment. My wolf whimpered inside, confused by the conflicting instincts.

"You're holding back," Augustus said. His voice was patient, but I heard the frustration underneath. "You need to commit."

"I'm trying." The words came out sharper than I intended.

"Try harder." He moved faster this time, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and twisting—not enough to hurt, but enough to pin me.

The world tilted.

Suddenly I wasn't in the training grounds anymore. I was kneeling on cold marble, Cassius's hand wrapped around my throat, his Alpha voice commanding me to submit while he told me I was nothing, worthless, a mistake—

"Violeta!" Augustus's voice cut through the memory, but I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. My vision tunneled, darkness creeping in from the edges.

His hands released me immediately. "Look at me. Focus on my voice."

I gasped, my lungs finally remembering how to work. Augustus knelt in front of me, his golden eyes steady and calm.

"He's not here," he said quietly. "You're safe. I've got you."

Shame burned through me, hot and suffocating. "I'm sorry. I thought I could—"

"Don't apologize." His hand hovered near mine, asking permission. When I nodded, he took it, his warmth grounding me. "What you survived would have broken most wolves. But you're still standing. That's strength."

"I don't feel strong."

"Then let me show you." He stood, pulling me up with him. "Close your eyes. Feel your wolf. Not the broken, beaten thing he tried to make her. The real one. The White Wolf."

I wanted to argue that I didn't know how, but something in his voice made me try. I closed my eyes and reached inward, past the layers of fear and shame, searching for that spark of silver light I'd felt when the Queen touched me.

There.

My wolf stirred, and this time she didn't whimper. She growled.

"Good," Augustus murmured. "Now channel it. All that fear, all that rage—it's fuel. Use it."

He moved again, faster, and instinct took over. I didn't think. I just reacted.

My body shifted mid-motion, bones cracking and reforming in a rush of silver light. The transformation was instant, effortless, nothing like the painful, clumsy shifts I'd attempted before.

I landed on four paws, and the world sharpened.

Augustus stood frozen, his eyes wide. "Moon Goddess," he breathed.

I looked down at myself—at paws twice the size of a normal wolf's, at fur that gleamed pure white in the morning sun. Power thrummed through me, wild and ancient and mine.

My wolf threw back her head and howled.

The sound echoed across the grounds, and I felt every wolf in the territory respond, their heads turning toward the palace. Toward me.

When I shifted back, Augustus was smiling. "There she is. The White Wolf."

---

The war room was tense when we entered that afternoon. The Lycan King stood at the head of the table, his face carved from stone. Royal scouts flanked him, their expressions grim.

"The Silver Moon Pack is hosting the Luna Ceremony in two days," one scout reported. "Amora Garza plans to announce herself as the found Lycan Princess during the ceremony. She's wearing a silver locket—matches the description of the heirloom that went missing with the princess."

My hand flew to my throat. The locket. The one thing I'd always worn, the one piece of myself I'd clung to. Amora must have taken it before she pushed me.

The King's fist slammed onto the table. "That witch dares to wear my daughter's locket? I'll burn that pack to the ground."

"Father, wait." The word felt strange on my tongue, but right. "Let me handle this."

He turned to me, his silver eyes—so like mine—blazing. "You want to face them? After what they did to you?"

"I need to." I stepped forward, my voice steady. "If you wage war, they'll say I hid behind the crown. I need to face Cassius and Amora myself. I need to show them what they threw away."

Augustus moved to my side, his presence solid and reassuring. "She's right. This is her fight."

The King studied me for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. "We go as diplomats. But if they threaten you—"

"They won't get the chance," I said.

---

The convoy of black SUVs rolled through the forest two days later, the royal crest gleaming on each door. I sat in the back of the lead vehicle, my scent masked by a potion the Queen had prepared. Augustus sat beside me, his hand resting on the seat between us—close enough to touch if I needed him.

The Silver Moon territory gates came into view, decorated with white ribbons and flowers for the ceremony. Guards stood at attention, their faces paling when they recognized the royal vehicles.

Cassius appeared at the gate, flanked by his Beta. Even from a distance, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the nervous twitch of his left eye.

Augustus rolled down the window, his voice cold and commanding. "Open the gates. Royal inspection."

"This is a private ceremony," Cassius said, but his voice wavered. "We weren't expecting—"

"I don't recall asking for permission." Augustus's tone could have frozen fire. "Open. The. Gates."

The guards scrambled to obey. The gates swung open, and our convoy rolled through.

I watched Cassius through the tinted window, my heart steady. No fear. No pain. Just cold, focused determination.

He had no idea what was coming.