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The Queen They Lost, Now His Novel Cover

The Queen They Lost, Now His

spent three years saving every single credit to buy the Moonlight Grass. It was the only herb capable of healing my damaged wolf spirit. But the moment I walked through the door, my eldest brother, the Pack Alpha, snatched it from my trembling hands. "Willow has a migraine," Ryker stated, his voice devoid of warmth. "She needs this." I begged him. I told him it cost a fortune. I told him it was my only chance to finally shift. But Axel, my second brother and the Pack Doctor, just adjusted his glasses with clinical coldness. "Don't be selfish, Ember. Willow is fragile. Your jealousy is ugly." They boiled my entire future into a tea for an adopted sister who was faking it. Desperate to prove I wasn't the villain, I spent my last emergency cash on gifts for them. But when I handed Willow a silk dress, she smirked at me, stepped on the hem, and threw herself backward onto the carpet. "My ankle!" she screamed. "Ryker, she pushed me!" I rushed forward to help, but my bad leg gave out. I smashed my knee against the metal bed frame, blood instantly soaking through my jeans. Axel didn't check my shattered knee. He roared at me, "You vicious snake! You wanted her to trip!" Ryker loomed over me, his Alpha Command crushing my lungs like a physical weight. "Get out of my sight." Bleeding, broke, and heartbroken, I dragged myself out into the storm. They thought I would crawl to a friend's house. They thought I would always be their punching bag. Instead, I accepted an offer from the rival Shadow Alpha to join a top-secret research facility. A fifteen-year lockdown. No contact. A complete erasure of my existence. As I stepped onto the private jet, I looked down at the house one last time. "Happy Birthday, brothers," I whispered into the wind. I hope you enjoy the silence when you realize the sister you tortured is gone forever.
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Chapter 3

Ember POV:

The rain didn't start as a drizzle; it began as a deluge. The sky opened up and dropped an ocean on my head.

I dragged my suitcase down the long driveway. The wheels caught in the gravel. My bad knee was screaming, the damp cold seeping into the bone.

I looked back at the house. Axel was standing on the second-floor balcony-my balcony. He was watching me.

The rain soaked my white shirt instantly, plastering it to my skin. I shivered violently. The water ran down my leg, mixing with the fresh blood seeping through my bandage.

Help me, I thought, projecting it toward the house. Please, just a ride to the station.

I felt the mental wall slam down. Axel had blocked the link again. He just watched, arms crossed, safe and dry under the awning.

My vision blurred. The loss of blood and the shock were taking their toll. I stumbled. The suitcase handle slipped from my grip. I fell onto the wet gravel, the sharp stones digging into my palms.

I couldn't get up. My strength was gone.

Through the roar of the rain, I heard the front door open.

"Axel!" Willow's voice. "She fell! Should I take her an umbrella?"

I lifted my head. Willow was standing there, holding a large black umbrella. She looked like a saint.

"No," Axel's voice carried over the wind, amplified by his Beta authority. "Leave her. She's doing this for attention. If you go out there, you'll catch a cold. Get inside, Willow."

He grabbed Willow's arm and pulled her back inside. The balcony door slid shut. The curtains were drawn.

I was alone in the storm.

I laid my cheek against the cold stones. So this is it, I thought. I die in the driveway of the house my father built.

Headlights cut through the darkness.

A sleek black car, an armored SUV, roared up the driveway. It wasn't a pack car. It didn't have the crest of the Silver Moon Pack.

It screeched to a halt inches from my head.

The door flew open. A man stepped out.

He didn't run; he moved with a predatory grace that made the rain seem to slow down. He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a dark trench coat.

He knelt beside me. His hand touched my shoulder.

ZAP.

A bolt of lightning didn't hit the ground-it hit me.

The moment his skin touched mine, the cold vanished. A heat, fierce and consuming, exploded from the point of contact. It rushed through my veins, waking up nerves I thought were dead.

My scent receptors, usually dull, were suddenly flooded.

Pine forests after a blizzard. Dark chocolate. Ozone.

It was the most intoxicating thing I had ever smelled.

My dormant wolf, Sera, who hadn't made a sound since the fire, suddenly lifted her head in the depths of my mind. She didn't whimper. She didn't hide.

She roared.

MINE!

I gasped, my eyes flying open. I looked up into eyes the color of storm clouds-gray, swirling with silver flecks.

The man froze. His pupils dilated until his eyes were almost black. His chest heaved.

"Mate," he growled. The word vibrated in his chest, deep enough to rattle my bones.

This was the Shadow Alpha. Derek. The most feared wolf in the continent. The leader of the technological powerhouse, the Shadow Pack.

He scooped me up as if I weighed nothing.

"Put her down!"

The balcony door flew open again. Axel was back. He leaned over the railing, his face pale. He had smelled it too-the change in the air. The arrival of a rival Alpha.

"She is a member of the Silver Moon Pack!" Axel shouted, his voice cracking. "You have no right!"

Derek looked up. Rain dripped from his dark hair, but his eyes were burning with a lethal fury.

"She is bleeding," Derek's voice was low, but it carried more power than Ryker's ever had. It wasn't just a command; it was a promise of violence. "And you are watching."

"She is being punished!" Axel yelled, though he took a step back. "Leave her!"

Derek looked down at me. "Do you want to stay, little wolf?"

I looked at Axel. I looked at the closed curtains where Ryker and Willow were probably laughing.

"Take me away," I whispered. "Please."

Derek nodded. He turned his back on Axel, dismissing him as a threat. He opened the back door of his car and placed me gently on the leather seat.

"You can't take her!" Axel screamed, panic finally entering his voice. "Ryker will declare war!"

Derek paused. He leaned against the car door, looking up at the balcony.

"Tell Ryker," Derek said, his voice cold as the grave, "that if he wants her back, he can come to the Shadowlands and try to take her. But tell him to bring a coffin for himself."

He slammed the door.

He got into the driver's seat. The car was warm. It smelled like him-safety and power.

"Rest," Derek said, looking at me through the rearview mirror. His eyes were softer now, filled with a pain I didn't understand. "I've got you. No one hurts you again."

As the car sped away, I looked back one last time. Axel was still standing in the rain, gripping the railing, looking smaller and smaller until the darkness swallowed him whole.

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