Beatrice pov 

Three weeks passed after the inter-pack gathering. Three weeks of pretending my world hadn't ended, of serving meals and cleaning floors while my chest felt hollow and broken.

The servant's quarters had always been cold, but now they felt like a tomb. I shared the space with five other unmated wolves-outcasts and orphans who had nowhere else to go. They tried to be kind after my rejection, but pity was almost worse than cruelty.

"You could come with us to the market today," offered Nessa, a quiet girl whose parents had died in a rogue attack. "Get out of the pack house for a while."

I shook my head, folding another load of laundry. "Too much work to do."

The truth was, I couldn't bear the stares. Word of my rejection had spread to neighboring packs. Everywhere I went, wolves looked at me with curiosity or disgust, whispering about the servant girl who'd dared to dream above her station.

My daily routine had become a prison. Wake before dawn, start the fires in the kitchen hearths, prepare breakfast for sixty pack members. Serve the alpha family first, then the betas and gammas, then everyone else. Clear the tables, wash the dishes, scrub the floors.

Afternoons meant laundry, mending clothes, tending the vegetable garden, whatever other tasks needed doing. Evenings brought dinner service, more cleaning, and finally collapse into my thin bed as the sun set.

I'd been doing this work for years, but now it felt different. Heavier. Like chains around my wrists that grew tighter every day.

"Bea!" Selene's voice carried across the kitchen. "The alpha wants fresh linens in his study. Now."

I gathered clean sheets from the supply closet and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Alpha Riven's study was his private domain-dark wood, leather chairs, walls lined with books about pack law and territory management.

He was sitting behind his massive desk when I knocked. "Come in."

I changed the linens on the small couch where he sometimes napped, hyperaware of his eyes on me. Since the rejection, he'd been watching me differently. Not with kindness, but like I was a problem he needed to solve.

"How are you adjusting?" he asked as I folded the old sheets.

"Fine, Alpha," I lied.

"Good. I was concerned you might have... unrealistic expectations after the ceremony."

My hands stilled on the fabric. "No, Alpha."

"Excellent." He leaned back in his chair. "Because I've been thinking about your future here. A rejected wolf needs purpose, direction. I've decided to arrange a match for you."

The blood drained from my face. "A match?"

"Gerald Ashworth from Ironwood Pack. He's thirty-five, widowed, needs a wife to help raise his children. He's agreed to overlook your... circumstances... in exchange for a modest dowry."

Gerald Ashworth. I remembered him from the gathering-a gruff man with cold eyes and rough hands. He'd looked at me like I was livestock being evaluated for purchase.

"I don't want to marry him," I whispered.

Alpha Riven's expression hardened. "What you want is irrelevant. You're a servant with no family, no prospects, and now the stigma of rejection. Gerald is offering you security and a home. You should be grateful."

Grateful. For being sold off to a man who would treat me like property. For having my entire future decided without my input.

"When?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"Next month. That gives you time to prepare and for the paperwork to be filed with the Council."

I nodded numbly and finished changing the linens. My hands moved automatically while my mind screamed. Four weeks. Four weeks until I was shipped off to Ironwood Pack to raise another woman's children and warm a stranger's bed.

This isn't right, Luna said weakly. She'd been getting stronger lately, but she was still recovering from the broken mate bond. We don't belong with that male. We belong somewhere else.

Where? I wanted to ask her. Where could a rejected servant possibly belong?

I escaped to the gardens after finishing the study, needing fresh air and silence. The vegetable plots were my responsibility, and I took pride in keeping them neat and productive. Out here, I could pretend I was something more than a burden.

I was pulling weeds when footsteps approached on the gravel path. Heavy boots, confident stride. My shoulders tensed, expecting more bad news.

"Miss Beatrice?"

I looked up to find a man I didn't recognize standing at the garden gate. He was tall and lean, dressed in traveling clothes that suggested money and status. His dark hair was streaked, and his brown eyes were kind but serious.

"Yes?" I stood slowly, wiping dirt from my hands.

"My name is Matthias Grey. I represent certain... interests... who have been looking for you for a very long time."

My heart started hammering. "I don't understand."

He stepped closer, and I caught his scent-something clean and expensive, with underneath notes that made Luna suddenly alert and interested.

"Tell me," he said quietly, "do you remember anything from before you came to Silvermist Pack? Anything at all?"

The question hit me. "I was a baby," I said slowly. "The alpha and luna found me at the border. My parents were killed by rogues."

"Were they?" His tone suggested he knew something I didn't. "Or is that simply what you were told?"

I stared at him, my mouth dry. "What are you saying?"

He glanced around the garden, making sure we were alone. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small silver locket on a delicate chain.

"Do you recognize this?" he asked, holding it out to me.

The locket was beautiful, clearly expensive, with intricate engravings of wolves running beneath a full moon. But it was the scent that made me gasp. Luna went wild in my mind, pacing and whining like she'd found something precious that had been lost.

"I..." I reached for it with shaking fingers. "I don't know. Maybe. It smells like..."

"Like home," he finished for me. "Like family."

I looked up at him, hope and terror warring in my chest. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

Matthias Grey smiled, and for the first time in weeks, it wasn't a cruel expression. "I want to take you home, Beatrice. To the family that has been searching for you for twenty years."

Before I could respond, Luna's voice rang through my mind with desperate urgency.

Run.

That's when I heard them-footsteps approaching fast, multiple sets. Matthias's expression shifted to alarm as he grabbed my arm.

"We need to go. Now."

"Wait," I said, confusion overwhelming me. "I don't understand what's happening."

That's when Selene appeared at the garden entrance, flanked by three pack warriors. Her face was twisted with rage and something that looked like fear.

"Step away from her," she snarled at Matthias. "That servant belongs to Silvermist Pack."

Matthias positioned himself between Selene and me, his posture shifting to something dangerous. "Actually, she doesn't belong to anyone. Especially not to wolves who've spent twenty years abusing her."

How did he know about that? I stared at his back, my mind reeling with questions.

"You have no authority here," Selene said, but I caught the tremor in her voice. "This is pack territory."

"And I'm a neutral party acting under Council jurisdiction," Matthias replied smoothly. "I suggest you reconsider your next move very carefully."

The warriors looked uncertain, clearly outranked by whatever authority Matthias represented. But Selene's eyes were locked on mine, and what I saw there made my blood run cold.

Not just anger. Fear. Desperation.

Like her entire world depended on keeping me here.

"Beatrice," Matthias said without turning around, "trust me. Come with me now, and I'll explain everything. Stay here, and you'll never know the truth about who you really are."

The locket pulsed warm against my palm, and Luna's urgent voice echoed in my head.

Choose quickly, little sister. Our real family is waiting.

Real family? The words didn't make sense. But as I looked at Selene's terrified face, one thing became crystal clear.

She knew exactly who I was

Beatrice pov

My hand closed around the locket. The metal was warm against my skin.

"Beatrice, don't listen to him," Selene said. Her voice was too high, "He's lying to you."

Matthias kept his eyes on the warriors. "I have documentation. Proof of her identity. Would you like to see it, or would you prefer to explain to the Council why you've been hiding a kidnapped royal for twenty years?"

Royal. The word hit me like a punch to the gut.

"She's not going anywhere," Selene said as she stepped forward, and the warriors moved with her.

Luna snarled in my head. Run. Now.

I bolted.

My feet knew the garden paths better than anyone. I ran through the vegetable beds, jumped the low fence, and headed for the tree line. Behind me, I heard shouting and the sound of pursuit.

The forest was thick here, dense with old pines and twisted oaks. I'd explored these woods for years, gathering herbs and mushrooms for the kitchen. My thin shoes slipped on pine needles as I ran deeper into the shadows.

"Beatrice!" Matthias's voice echoed behind me. "Wait!"

I didn't wait. My lungs burned and my legs ached, but I kept running. I didn't know what was true anymore. Matthias could be lying. Selene could be lying. The only thing I knew for sure was that I needed space to think.

The forest floor sloped downward. I followed a deer trail that wound between massive tree trunks. Sunlight barely reached the ground here. Everything was green and quiet except for my ragged breathing.

I finally stopped at a stream, my hands on my knees, gasping for air. The locket dangled from my fingers, catching what little light filtered through the canopy.

What's happening to me? I asked Luna.

She paced in my mind, agitated and excited at the same time. That man spoke truth. I can feel it. This locket... it calls to something in our blood.

I held the locket up to examine it closer. The engravings were beautiful, detailed work that must have cost a fortune. When I turned it over, I found a tiny clasp. My fingers fumbled with it until it clicked open.

Inside was a miniature painting. A woman with dark hair and grey eyes smiled out at me. Beside her was a man with a strong jaw and kind expression. Between them sat four boys of varying ages, all with the same dark coloring.

And in the woman's arms was a baby. A baby with a small birthmark on her left shoulder, just like mine.

My legs gave out. I sat hard on the mossy ground, staring at the painting.

"No," I whispered. "This can't be real."

But the scent that clung to the locket was unmistakable now. Everything my soul had been crying out for my entire life.

A twig snapped behind me.

I spun around, expecting Matthias or the warriors. Instead, I saw three men I didn't recognize. They were dressed in rough clothes, their faces hard and scarred. Rogues. The smell of them made Luna recoil in my mind.

"Well, well," the largest one said. He had a thick beard and cold eyes. "What do we have here?"

I scrambled to my feet. "I'm from Silvermist Pack. You're on their territory."

"We know." The second rogue circled to my right. He was thin and moved like a snake. "We've been watching that pack for weeks now. Imagine our surprise when their little servant girl runs off into the woods alone."

The third rogue, shorter but muscular, blocked my path back toward Silvermist. "Seems like nobody's coming to save you."

Luna surged forward in my mind. Let me out. Let me fight.

But I'd only shifted once, I had no idea how to fight in wolf form. I was helpless here, and these rogues knew it.

"My pack will come looking for me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

The bearded rogue laughed. "That pack doesn't care about you. We've heard the stories. The rejected servant nobody wants."

He was right, and we both knew it. Selene might send warriors after me, but only to bring me back for whatever plans she had. These rogues would kill me here, and nobody would even miss me.

The thin rogue pulled a knife from his belt. "Nothing personal, girl. But your scent is all wrong. You smell like power and that makes you valuable to certain people."

"Or dangerous," the muscular one added. "Safer to just get rid of you."

They moved in unison, closing the circle around me. I backed up until my heels hit the stream. There was nowhere left to run.

Luna, I thought desperately. Help me.

She threw herself against my mental barriers. I felt my bones begin to shift, my vision sharpening. But the transformation was slow, too slow. The bearded rogue raised his knife.

Then a howl split the air.

It was the most beautiful and terrifying sound I'd ever heard. Deep and powerful, it echoed through the forest and made every hair on my body stand up. The rogues froze, their faces going pale.

"Shit," the thin one said. "That's a beta wolf."

"Run!" the bearded one shouted.

But it was too late. A massive russet-colored wolf burst through the undergrowth, moving faster than anything that size should be able to move. His green eyes locked onto the rogues with deadly focus.

More wolves poured into the clearing. Grey ones, black ones, brown ones. At least a dozen of them, all massive and clearly trained fighters.

The rogues tried to scatter, but the wolves were everywhere. The russet wolf went straight for the bearded rogue, taking him down with a single leap. His jaws closed around the man's shoulder, and the rogue screamed.

I pressed myself against a tree, trying to stay out of the way. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.

The fight was over in seconds. The rogues who could still run fled into the forest. The ones who couldn't lay on the ground, bleeding but alive. The wolves had been careful not to kill them.

The russet wolf turned to look at me. His green eyes were familiar somehow, gentle despite the blood on his muzzle. He took a step toward me, and Luna went absolutely wild in my head.

Mate, she said. That's him. That's our mate.

"No," I whispered. "I already had a mate. He rejected me."

This is different, Luna insisted. This is real.

The wolf shifted. Bones cracked and reformed, fur receding into skin. In seconds, a man stood where the wolf had been. He was naked, but someone tossed him pants from a pack near the trees. He pulled them on without taking his eyes off me.

"Beatrice," he said softly.

I recognized that voice. That face. Those green eyes.

"Darius?" I managed.

He took another step forward. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head, unable to form words. My entire world was spinning. First Matthias and the locket, then the rogues, now this.

"We need to get you somewhere safe," Darius said. He reached out slowly, like I was a spooked animal. "Will you let me help you?"

Before I could answer, four more howls echoed through the forest. These were different from Darius's beta call. These were alpha howls, full of power and rage and something that made my blood sing with recognition.

Darius's expression changed. He looked past me toward the sound, and I saw respect and maybe a little fear cross his face.

"They're here," he said quietly.

"Who?" I asked.

Four enormous wolves emerged from the shadows. They were the biggest wolves I'd ever seen, easily twice the size of the others. A massive black one with white markings led the pack. Behind him came a large grey one, then a sleek black one, and finally a pure white wolf that moved like a ghost.

They stopped at the edge of the clearing, and every other wolf immediately lowered their heads in submission. Even Darius dropped his gaze.

The black wolf's golden eyes fixed on me. He took one step forward, then another. His massive head tilted as he scented the air.

Then he shifted.

The man who stood before me was tall and powerfully built, with black hair and those same golden eyes. He was maybe thirty, with sharp features and an air of absolute authority. He stared at me like I was a ghost he'd been searching for his entire life.

"Sister," he said, his voice breaking on the word.

The other three wolves shifted. The grey-haired one had a pack slung across his back, and he quickly distributed clothing to his brothers. Four men now stood in the clearing, pulling on pants and shirts with practiced efficiency, all of them staring at me with identical expressions of shock and desperate hope.

The grey-haired one stepped forward. His amber eyes were wet with tears. "Beatrice? Is it really you?"

I looked down at the locket still clutched in my hand. At the painting of the four boys who'd grown into these four men.

"I don't understand," I whispered.

The black-haired man moved closer. When he spoke again, his voice was rough with emotion. "My name is Theron Wynter. These are my brothers. And you... you're our sister. The one we've been searching for since the day you were taken from us twenty years ago."

Darius pov 

I stayed at the edge of the clearing, watching Beatrice process what the Wynter brothers were telling her. Every instinct I had screamed at me to go to her, to comfort her, to make sure she was okay.

But this wasn't my moment. This was hers.

"You need to sit down," Corin said. The second-oldest brother moved toward Beatrice with the careful approach of a healer. "You're in shock."

Beatrice let him guide her to a fallen log. She was shaking, her grey eyes wide and unfocused. The locket dangled from her fingers.

"This doesn't make sense," she said. Her voice was so small, so lost. "I'm nobody. I'm just a servant."

"You were never just a servant." Theron crouched in front of her. The Lord Alpha of Wynterhold looked like he wanted to reach out and touch her but wasn't sure if he was allowed to. "You're our blood. Our family."

Silas, the third brother, pulled out a small leather folder from a pack one of my warriors had brought. He flipped it open and showed Beatrice a series of documents. "Birth records. Medical files from when you were born. Reports from the investigation into your kidnapping."

"Kidnapping?" Beatrice looked up at him.

"Twenty years ago, rogues attacked the convoy that was bringing you and Mother back from a Council meeting," Kaelen explained. The youngest brother had the same white-blond hair as Beatrice, and his blue eyes were hard with old anger. "They killed the guards and took you. We've been searching ever since."

I watched Beatrice's face as understanding slowly dawned. She'd spent her whole life believing she was abandoned, unloved, worthless. Now four of the most powerful wolves in the kingdom were telling her she'd been stolen from a family that never stopped looking for her.

"The Silvermist Alpha and Luna," Beatrice said slowly. "They told me my parents were dead. That I was an orphan."

"They lied." Theron's voice was cold with fury. "They knew who you were. They had to have known."

Rowan paced in my head, desperate to go to our mate. She's hurting. We need to comfort her.

We can't, I told him. Look at them. Look at who her brothers are.

The Wynter family wasn't just powerful. They were royalty. Their bloodline went back to the first wolves blessed by the Moon Goddess. They controlled the largest territory, had seats on every major Council, and commanded respect from every pack in the kingdom.

And I was a beta. Second-in-command of a mid-sized pack with no particular influence or wealth. What did I have to offer a Wynter daughter?

"Darius," one of my warriors said quietly. "Should we pursue the rogues?"

I shook my head. "Let them run. We have what we came for." I'd been leading a routine patrol near the Silvermist border when Rowan had gone absolutely wild, dragging me toward Beatrice's scent. We'd arrived just in time to save her from those rogues.

Just in time to discover that my mate was so far above me in status that pursuing her would be laughable.

"Who are you?" Theron stood and turned to face me. His alpha power washed over the clearing, making every wolf present drop their eyes in automatic submission.

I met his gaze for just a second before lowering mine. "Darius Veylor, my lord. Beta of Ashthorn Pack. We were on patrol and heard the conflict."

"You saved my sister's life." Theron's voice was impossible to read. "Ashthorn is three territories away. What are you doing on Silvermist's border?"

It was a fair question. We had no business being this far from home. But I couldn't exactly explain that my wolf had scented his fated mate and dragged me across two territories to find her.

"Just being thorough, my lord," I said. "Rogue activity has increased recently."

Corin was examining Beatrice now, his hands glowing with faint healing light as he checked her for injuries. "She's malnourished," he said, anger creeping into his usually gentle voice. "Severely. These scars on her hands are from manual labor. And this..." He pushed up her sleeve to reveal an old burn mark. "This was intentional."

Silas made a low sound in his throat. "They tortured her."

"Not tortured," Beatrice said quietly. "Just... it was an accident. I was too slow with the dinner service, and someone bumped into me while I was carrying hot soup."

"Someone bumped into you," Kaelen repeated. His voice was soft, but I heard the lethal promise underneath it. "And you were the one who got burned."

Beatrice looked confused by their anger. She didn't understand yet that what Silvermist had done to her was wrong. She'd been trained her whole life to believe she deserved it.

My hands clenched into fists. I wanted to go back to Silvermist and tear that pack apart with my bare hands. But that wasn't my right. That decision belonged to her brothers.

"We need to get her home," Theron said. "Away from this place."

"I can't just leave," Beatrice said. She stood up, swaying slightly. "I have duties. Work to finish. And Alpha Riven said I'm supposed to marry"

"You're not marrying anyone Riven chose for you," Theron cut her off. His voice was absolutely final. "You're coming home with us. Tonight."

"But I don't know you." Beatrice's voice cracked. "You're strangers. How do I know this isn't some kind of trick?"

Corin pulled something from his pocket. A small stuffed wolf, worn and faded with age. "You used to sleep with this every night. You called him Howler. When you were taken, Mother put it in your nursery. She refused to let anyone touch it because she said you'd want it when you came home."

Beatrice stared at the toy. Slowly, like she was moving through water, she reached out and took it. She held it to her nose and breathed in.

Then she started crying.

Corin pulled her into his arms, and she collapsed against his chest. Her sobs were quiet, like she'd learned to cry without making noise. The sound of it made something crack in my chest.

Rowan howled in my mind. Our mate is in pain. We have to help her.

Her brothers will help her, I told him. They're her family. They'll give her everything she needs.

But we're her mate, Rowan insisted. She needs us too.

I watched Theron's expression as he looked at his crying sister. The Lord Alpha's face was set in stone, but his eyes betrayed him. He was a man who'd lost something precious and had just gotten it back. He would protect Beatrice with everything he had.

Which meant he wouldn't accept just anyone as her mate.

"My lord," I said quietly. "My patrol and I should head back to Ashthorn. Unless you need our assistance?"

Theron looked at me for a long moment. There was something calculating in his gaze, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. "You have my gratitude, Beta Veylor. I won't forget this debt."

It was a dismissal. A polite one, but still a clear message that I was no longer needed.

I bowed slightly and signaled my warriors. We melted back into the forest, leaving the Wynters to their reunion.

But I couldn't resist one last look back.

Beatrice had stopped crying. She was standing between her four brothers, all of them touching her somehow-a hand on her shoulder, fingers on her arm, like they needed physical confirmation that she was real. She looked small and fragile surrounded by all that power.

Then she turned and looked directly at me.

Our eyes met across the clearing. For just a second, I saw recognition there. Not just of my face, but of what we were to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, golden and perfect and completely impossible.

Then Kaelen said something that made her turn away, and the moment was broken.

I forced myself to keep walking.

"Sir?" One of my warriors fell into step beside me. "Was that really Beatrice Wynter? The lost princess?"

"Yes," I said.

"The Moon Goddess has a sense of humor." The warrior shook his head. "After all these years, she turns up as a servant in a minor pack."

"She didn't turn up," I said quietly. "She was hidden. On purpose."

The implications of that were staggering. Someone had kidnapped a royal child and placed her in Silvermist Pack, where she'd been deliberately kept ignorant of her identity. That wasn't random. That was a plan.

Which meant whoever did it might still be out there.

And they wouldn't be happy that Beatrice had been found.