The helicopter touched down on the royal landing pad, its blades slicing through the night air. I stepped out, my legs still weak but my spine straighter than it had been in a decade. The familiar scent of home—ancient stone, moonflowers, and the distinctive aroma of Lycan magic—washed over me.

"Princess Sylvia."

The voice cut through the rotor noise like a blade. I turned to see him—my father, the Lycan King—standing at the edge of the landing zone. His imposing figure was silhouetted against the palace lights, but I could see his face clearly in the moonlight.

"Sire," I whispered, my voice catching.

He closed the distance between us in three long strides. When he reached me, his eyes—the same golden yellow as mine—widened in horror.

"Moon Goddess," he breathed, his hand gently touching my cheek. "What have they done to you?"

I couldn't answer. The sight of him—the father I'd abandoned for a mate who never deserved me—broke something inside me. Ten years of suppressed emotion flooded out at once.

"Father," I choked out, falling into his arms.

His embrace was gentle despite his strength, as if he feared I might shatter. "My daughter," he murmured into my hair. "My lost princess."

I felt him inhale deeply, taking in my scent—the stench of rejection that clung to me like a second skin. His body tensed, and when he pulled back, his eyes blazed with fury.

"The bond sickness," he growled. "It's critical. How long have you been like this?"

"Years," I admitted. "It got worse after..."

I couldn't finish the sentence. Saying aloud that my own son had commanded me to kneel might break me all over again.

"Enough," my father declared, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of royal command. "Summon the Royal High Healers. Now."

---

Pain became my constant companion in the days that followed.

The Royal High Healers worked tirelessly, pouring ancient Lycan magic into my broken body. The bond sickness had eaten away at me for so long that even their powerful magic couldn't provide an easy fix.

"Your body is remembering," the Head Healer explained as I writhed in agony on the ceremonial table. "The Lycan genes you suppressed are reasserting themselves."

My bones cracked and reshaped. My muscles tore and reformed. My skin blistered and healed—all while I remained conscious, forced to endure every excruciating moment.

"Where's Queen?" I gasped through gritted teeth, referring to my wolf.

"Here," came a voice in my mind—stronger and clearer than I'd heard in years. "I'm taking back what's ours."

Queen's presence surged through me, no longer the whimper of a suppressed wolf but the roar of a predator reclaiming her territory. With her return came memories—training sessions in the royal courtyard, hunts through ancient forests, the weight of the crown that had been mine by birthright.

"Revenge," Queen growled. "We want revenge."

"Patience," I whispered back, even as my nails lengthened into claws and my canines descended. "Strategic dismantling, not mindless violence."

The Healers stepped back as my body completed its transformation. Where once stood a gaunt, weakened woman was now a Lycan Princess in her full glory—tall, powerful, with golden eyes that could command armies.

---

"The annual Alpha Summit," my father announced one evening as we dined in the private royal chamber. "Every Alpha in the territories will attend."

I looked up from my plate, where I was devouring a meal fit for three wolves. "Including Reed?"

"Especially Reed," my father said, his smile sharp as a blade. "We've sent him a special invitation."

He slid a parchment across the table. I read it carefully, noting the formal language and official seal.

"'The Royal Lycan Court requests the presence of Alpha Reed Cunningham and his pack for a commendation ceremony,'" I read aloud. "What commendation?"

"That's the beauty of it," my father replied, swirling his wine. "He'll think it's about him—about his leadership. His arrogance will blind him to the true purpose."

I traced the embossed lettering with my fingertip. "And what is the true purpose?"

"Justice," Queen growled inside me.

My father's eyes met mine across the table. "Justice comes in many forms, daughter. Sometimes it's a blade to the heart. Other times..." He paused, his smile widening. "Other times it's watching someone destroy themselves with their own hubris."

I nodded slowly, feeling the first stirrings of anticipation. "When does the Summit begin?"

"Three days," he replied. "Plenty of time for Reed to prepare his acceptance speech."

I could already imagine Reed's reaction—his chest puffed out with pride, Hailey preening beside him as they interpreted the invitation as validation of everything they'd stolen from me.

Little did they know what awaited them at the Summit.

The first sign of Silver Pine's deterioration came three days after my departure.

I watched from the Royal Observatory as the pack lands withered beneath the summer sun. Crops that had once flourished under my careful tending now drooped, their leaves curling at the edges. The pack's luck—something I had quietly maintained through my suppressed Lycan blood—was fading like morning mist.

"Without your stabilizing presence, their territory is reverting to its natural state," my father observed, standing beside me at the crystal viewing sphere. "A pack built on rejection and betrayal cannot thrive."

I nodded, feeling Queen stir restlessly within me. *They're paying for their cruelty.*

"Reed is blaming you," my father continued, his voice carrying a note of dark satisfaction. "Our spies report he's telling the pack you cursed them before fleeing like a rogue."

The irony wasn't lost on me. For ten years, I had been the pack's secret strength—healing their wounds, ensuring their prosperity, stabilizing their very foundations—all while they treated me like a disease.

"And what of my son?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

My father's expression softened. "Nicholas is... confused. Reed is poisoning him against you."

---

In the Silver Pine Pack House, Reed paced before the assembled pack members, his face contorted with rage.

"She abandoned us!" he shouted, his Alpha aura flaring oppressively. "After everything this pack gave her—after I tolerated her weakness for a decade—she ran away like a coward!"

The pack members shifted uncomfortably, their eyes downcast. None dared mention that I had prepared their meals, cleaned their homes, or nursed their sick during my years of servitude.

"Father, why did Mother leave?" Nicholas's small voice cut through Reed's tirade.

Reed knelt before his son, taking Nicholas's shoulders in his hands. "Your mother was never who we thought she was," he said, his voice dripping with false concern. "She was a traitor, Nicholas. A rogue at heart."

Nicholas's golden eyes—so like mine—widened in confusion. "But she was sick..."

"She was faking," Hailey interjected, stepping forward with perfectly applied makeup and not a hair out of place. "Trying to gain sympathy while she planned her escape."

Reed nodded solemnly. "She cursed our lands before she left," he lied smoothly. "That's why the crops are failing. That's why some of you are getting sick."

Fear rippled through the gathered wolves. A curse from a rejected mate was serious business—potentially deadly.

"We need to leave," Reed announced. "The Alpha Summit in the neutral capital begins tomorrow. While we're gone, Gamma Marcus will lead the efforts to cleanse our territory of Sylvia's curse."

---

The neutral capital buzzed with activity as Alpha families from across the territories arrived for the Summit. The grand hotel that hosted the event gleamed with polished marble and crystal chandeliers, a stark contrast to the squalid conditions I'd endured at Silver Pine.

Reed emerged from their SUV with a flourish, his custom-tailored suit gleaming under the afternoon sun. Hailey followed, draped in designer clothes that probably cost more than the pack's monthly food budget.

"Remember," Reed whispered to Nicholas as they approached the hotel entrance, "stand tall. You're the future Alpha of Silver Pine."

Nicholas nodded solemnly, though his eyes darted nervously around the crowded lobby.

Reed's attempt at networking began almost immediately. He approached a group of Alphas near the registration desk, his hand extended in greeting.

"Alpha Cunningham of Silver Pine," he announced proudly. "I received your Summit invitation with great honor."

The Alphas exchanged glances but didn't extend their hands in return.

"Have you heard the news?" one of them asked another, deliberately loud enough for Reed to hear.

"Haven't you?" the other replied. "About the Hidden Princess?"

Reed frowned. "What princess?"

The Alphas moved away, continuing their conversation in hushed tones.

"Probably just rumors," Reed muttered to Hailey, but I could see the first flicker of unease in his eyes.

As they waited for their room keys, Reed noticed more whispered conversations, more meaningful glances. The word "princess" seemed to float through the air like a ghost.

"I don't understand," Hailey whispered, her perfect composure beginning to crack. "Why are they all talking about a princess?"

Reed's jaw tightened. "Whatever it is, it doesn't concern us. We're here to receive our commendation."

But despite his words, I could see the doubt creeping into his expression as he watched Alpha after Alpha nod respectfully to uniformed Royal Guards who had begun appearing throughout the hotel.

Something was happening—something big—and for once, Reed Cunningham was completely in the dark.