~~ANIKA VALERION~~
~~THE ECLIPSE PACK~~
The mirror didn’t lie, but it sure as hell didn't feel real.
I stood frozen in the plush room, watching nimble fingers weave silver threads through my hair. Each strand caught the light. The maids twisted and braided until the style framed my face. I looked untouchable.
My velvet gown clung to my curves. On my shoulder, the heavy crest gleamed: a fierce wolf’s head beneath a moon, its obsidian eyes staring back at me with ancient knowing.
Two days.
Just two days since my world flipped upside down.
I closed my eyes, inhaling the faint hit of sandalwood and bergamot that still clung to these walls. Xander’s scent.
It wrapped around me, a ghost I wasn't ready to shake.
The maid pinning the crest to my collarbone trembled so hard I heard the metal clink.
Months ago, these same women used to snicker and call me "Null" behind my back. Today, they treated me like ticking dynamite, terrified I’d blow up at the slightest slip.
"Your Highness," the young maid whispered. "The crest… it's locked in."
Your Highness.
The title tasted foreign on my tongue. I met her gaze in the mirror and flashed a tight smile.
She flushed red and dropped her eyes, bowing low.
A soft knock rapped at the door.
"Come in," I called out.
Silas stepped inside, his presence filling the room. He looked stronger today, color seeping back into his weathered face. The deep lines of exhaustion were fading, but he still carried the ghost of a man broken by eighteen years of slavery.
He stopped a few feet away, studying me with eyes swimming in emotion: awe, grief, fierce pride.
"Ani," he murmured. "You look… exactly like her. Your mother."
The words hit home, piercing straight through the armor I’d built around my chest.
I turned from the mirror and faced him. I still couldn’t stomach calling him Father. The word felt too heavy when the only parent I’d ever truly known was Nana.
"Thank you," I breathed.
He stepped closer, hesitating before his rough hands adjusted the cloak on my shoulders. His fingers were scarred, but they moved with surprising care.
"You asked for time to heal," he said. "I gave it. But the Citadel is buzzing. They’ve waited eighteen years for their Heiress. They need to see you in the flesh."
I nodded, my throat tight. Heal. That was the bullshit excuse I fed everyone. The ugly truth? Those two days were a desperate, aching attempt to hold onto someone before duty dragged me away.
Two days of stolen glances across packed halls.
Two days of praying Xander would corner me, slam me against a wall, and growl that he was keeping me.
Two days of lying awake in the dark, my body aching as I remembered how his mouth and cock had worshipped every inch of me.
I waited for him.
But he never showed.
Instead, he went ice-cold. Polite. Distant. The Cold-Blooded Heir had clocked back in.
And that freeze-out carved another chunk out of my heart.
Maybe he was thrilled. Maybe he couldn't wait to crawl back between Selene’s legs without a former Null dragging him down.
The thought sparked a hot flash of jealousy. I hated how much it burned.
Silas caught the shift in my eyes. "The Eclipse wolves are waiting outside. They want to see you off."
I swallowed hard and nodded.
When we stepped out, the courtyard was jam-packed. Hundreds of wolves lined the dirt paths.
These were the same assholes who used to shove my face in the dirt and laugh at my wolfless shame. Now, they stood paralyzed.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Is that… really her?" "The Null?" "She looks… lethal." "How the hell is Anika the lost queen?"
But as I strode forward with Silas backing me, the whispers died. Heads dropped. Shoulders slumped.
The crowd parted like the red sea, their eyes wide with awe and pure fear.
A mother pulled her kid close—not to protect him, but in blind wonder.
I tilted my chin up, but my chest felt hollow.
This respect was fake. Unearned. They celebrated my humiliation at the Transition Ceremony, but now they bowed because I wore a shiny crown.
At the head of the pack, my white mare waited. And right beside her stood Xander.
He looked every inch the Alpha. Tall. Lethal. Dressed in dark leather with his heavy cloak draped over his broad shoulders.
Our eyes locked.
For one breathless second, every dirty, beautiful thing we shared flashed through my mind. The dark alleyway. The way he rode me through my heat. The stargazing nights where his rough promises felt like a lifeline.
I waited for him to speak up. To step forward and claim me. To fight.
Instead, he offered a stiff hand, helping me onto the saddle like a damn stranger.
"Safe journey… Your Highness," he grunted.
My chest cracked at the formal title.
I scoured his face for a flicker of anything, but his mask was dead-set.
I gave a single nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat, and spurred my mare forward.
The ride north took a full day.
Silas rode at my side, trading quiet stories about my mother—her laugh, her grit, the way she loved fiercely. Elias hung back, giving me space, though I felt his heavy guilt burning into my spine. I still hadn’t forgiven him for keeping me in the dark.
By the time the Citadel loomed on the horizon, the ache in my chest had morphed into a dull roar.
The gates were swamped.
Thousands of wolves lined the roads and stone walls. The second we rode into view, a deafening howl ripped through the air, shaking the dirt beneath my boots.
They dropped to their knees in massive waves.
"Alpha!! Heiress!! Alpha!! Heiress!!"
Silas sat tall in his saddle, tears sliding down his scarred face. This was his big comeback.
For me, it felt like walking into a prison.
As the iron gates groaned open to swallow us whole, I glanced back south one last time.
Xander let me walk away without throwing a single punch.
And as I rode into my new empire, surrounded by thousands bowing at my feet, I blinked back the burn in my eyes.
I was home.
And I had never felt so damn alone.