Chapter 3 – Crownless Queen

Lila I kept my head down, trying to blend into the crowd, my heart pounding in my chest. each of these women were preening, whispering, vying for attention. They were all here for the same reason: to be chosen by the Lycan King. “Not Damon,” a girl beside me sighed dreamily. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. These women knew nothing about the kind of man who ruled over us. Their giggles and whispers grated against my nerves, but I held my tongue. The last thing I wanted was to attract anyone’s attention. The crowd seemed to shift, parting ever so slightly as a woman approached with slow, measured steps. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, each movement deliberate, exuding confidence. She was tall, stunning, with sharp features and piercing eyes that roamed over the gathered women like a Queen surveying her court. “Oh, that’s Isabella,” a girl whispered near me, her voice trembling with awe. “She’s the Lycan King’s favorite.” “She’s practically royalty,” another girl murmured. “No one crosses her and gets away with it.” “What’s she doing here?” another asked, barely above a breath. As if on cue, Isabella stopped in front of a young girl near the edge of the crowd. The girl was shorter, delicate-looking, and wore a dress that, while clean and modest, was simpler compared to the lavish gowns around us. Isabella let out a soft, cruel laugh. “Is your pack bankrupt?” she asked, her tone laced with mockery. “Or did you just forget that we’re in the palace? That dress looks like something my maids would throw away.” The girl blushed furiously, shrinking back. “I... I...” Isabella clicked her tongue. “Oh, you poor thing,” she said, eyes glittering with amusement. “Did your Alpha send you here as a joke? Or maybe he’s just trying to get rid of you?” She tilted her head, feigning sympathy. “Because let’s be honest, no one with any real value would show up looking like that.” The girl trembled, gripping the fabric of her skirt so tightly her knuckles turned white. Isabella stepped closer, her voice dropping into a cruel whisper. Her head tilted as if inspecting something distasteful. “And you actually think you belong here? That you have a chance? You’re dirtying the palace floor just by standing here.” The air grew heavy with tension. No one spoke up for the girl. They all looked away, pretending not to see the cruelty unfolding before them. I clenched my fists; I knew what it was like to be bullied and shamed, and the word came out of me without my control. “Enough.” My voice rang out, sharp and firm. Silence fell over the hall. Heads turned. Eyes widened in shock as they all looked at me. Even Isabella froze, her expression shifting from amusement to something unreadable. Her gaze locked onto mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw something else flicker across her face. Recognition. Shock. “You…” she whispered, stepping forward. She studied me, eyes narrowing, and then, suddenly, her expression twisted. “How could you…” She didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, her lips pressed into a tight line, and a flicker of fury darkened her features. With a flick of her wrist, she turned to a group of palace servants. “Get someone to punish her,” she ordered, her voice filled with venom. “I want her, and that girl sent to the garden to pull weeds. And make sure she never gets a chance to meet Damon.” The last words were spoken through clenched teeth, her glare burning into me as though my very existence was an insult to her. I frowned. This wasn’t just about me speaking up. That moment of recognition in her eyes was too intense, too personal. There was something else beneath her anger. I didn’t understand it yet, but I knew better than to ask. A few servants moved toward me, but I raised a hand. “I’ll go by myself.” Let them think they were punishing me. If pulling weeds meant I could avoid this selection process with my identity intact, then I had no complaints. The garden was vast, with rows of neatly trimmed hedges and colorful flowers. The sun blazed overhead as I knelt in the dirt, yanking out weeds with steady, methodical movements. Sweat dripped down my neck, and my arms ached, but I kept going, welcoming the exhaustion. At least out here, away from prying eyes, I could breathe. A quiet shuffling caught my attention, and I looked up to see the girl from earlier approaching. She hesitated before crouching beside me. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “For getting you into trouble.” I shook my head. “It’s not your fault. People like Isabella will find any excuse to put others down.” She nodded slowly, brushing dirt from her dress. “I’m Emma.” “Lila.” She offered a small smile. “You don’t talk like the other girls.” I shrugged off the comment, not wanting to go down that line of questioning. Emma’s smile faded, and she glanced around before lowering her voice. “I heard something from the others... about why the King hasn’t married Isabella.” I arched a brow. “Why?” She hesitated, then whispered, “The elders want him to find a second mate. That’s why they’re holding this selection.” I frowned. “Then why doesn’t he just marry her?” Emma’s expression turned uneasy. “No one knows for sure. But they say the first Luna died... and Isabella is the only one the King allows by his side.” I scoffed, yanking another weed from the soil. “So, she has all the power, but not the title?” Emma nodded, biting her lip. “That’s what makes her dangerous. She’s desperate to keep it that way.” I wiped sweat from my brow, considering her words. “And Damon just lets this happen?” Emma hesitated. “I don’t think he cares. Or maybe… maybe he’s just waiting for the right person.” I let out a dry laugh. “Well, that won’t be me.” Emma looked at me strangely, as if trying to figure me out. Finally she said, “You don’t seem scared of her.” “Fear gives people like Isabella power,” I muttered. “And she won’t get that from me.” I let that sink in, the pieces shifting in my mind. Isabella clearly had power, but not enough to claim the title of Luna. And that meant she was desperate to keep anyone else from getting close to the King. A chill ran down my spine. Isabella was King Damon’s favorite and I had just pissed her off. The sun burned high in the sky as the hours dragged on. The servants overseeing us refused to let me rest, and I felt my wolf, Ruby, nearing her limits. My body screamed in protest, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing me falter. Then, suddenly, a wave of dizziness crashed over me. My vision blurred. My limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. The scent of the earth swirled around me, too strong, too sharp. A strange sensation rippled through my chest, deep in my bones. I heard Ruby’s voice, faint but certain. I smell the mate’s scent... I tried to respond, but the world tilted. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath. A distant ringing filled my ears, drowning out the sounds around me. Just before the darkness the claimed me I heard a voice, deep and commanding. “What happened here?”