Isla's POV
Time slows down.
I see Celeste's dark magic racing toward my chest—black and purple energy that crackles with death. I see Roman and Kieran too far away, their faces twisted in horror. I see Dominic smiling, already celebrating my murder.
And something inside me snaps.
Not breaks. Snaps into place.
Like a lock finally opening after eighteen years of being jammed shut.
NO MORE, my wolf roars, and this time, her voice shakes the earth.
Power explodes from my body in a wave of pure golden light so bright that everyone—warriors, assassins, Alphas—staggers backward, shielding their eyes.
Celeste's dark magic hits my light and disintegrates like smoke.
"Impossible," Celeste breathes, stumbling. "You shouldn't be able to—"
"Shouldn't be able to what?" My voice doesn't sound like mine anymore. It's layered with power, with authority, with something ancient and undeniable. "Fight back? Defend myself? Stop you from murdering me like you murdered our parents?"
The words come from somewhere deep inside, from memories that aren't mine but belong to my wolf, passed down through bloodlines older than any living pack.
"Our parents?" Celeste's face goes pale. "You don't know anything about—"
"I know everything." And suddenly, I do. The memories flood through me like a dam breaking—images and feelings and truths locked away by dark magic. "Your mother married my father when I was two years old. You're my stepsister, not my real sister. And you hated me from the moment you realized I had stronger royal blood than you ever would."
Celeste's mask cracks completely, revealing rage underneath. "You were supposed to stay weak! Wolfless! NOTHING!"
"I was never nothing," I say, and I feel the truth of it in my bones. "You just convinced me I was."
I stand up, and power radiates from my skin in waves that make the ground tremble. Every wolf present—even the Alphas—feels the urge to bow. Some of them do, including several of Dominic's own warriors.
Because this isn't ordinary Alpha power.
This is royal power. True, undiluted, ancient authority that has nothing to do with strength or pack politics and everything to do with bloodright.
"The crown," I say, my eyes locking on the golden circlet in Celeste's hands. "It called to me the moment you touched it. Because it knows who its real owner is."
Celeste clutches the crown tighter. "This is mine! Father Dominic promised—"
"Father Dominic is a liar and a murderer." I take a step toward her, and she actually backs up. "He killed my real parents and stole their throne. Then he placed me with your family, had you suppress my wolf, and made sure I grew up thinking I was worthless. All so I'd never challenge him."
"It worked, didn't it?" Dominic's voice is cold. "You're weak. Broken. You don't have the strength to—"
"I'm done being weak." I look at him, and for the first time in my life, I'm not afraid of an Alpha's power. "And I'm definitely done being broken."
I reach my hand toward Celeste, and the crown rips from her grip—literally flies through the air into my palm like it's been waiting eighteen years to come home.
The moment I touch it, pain explodes through my skull.
No—not pain. Memories.
I see my real mother—Alpha Elena Thorne—beautiful and fierce, fighting Dominic's warriors while trying to protect me as a baby. I see my father—Alpha Marcus Thorne—bleeding out on the throne room floor, whispering, "Hide her. Keep her safe. She's the future."
I see Dominic's coup, bloody and brutal. I see him murdering anyone loyal to my parents. I see him finding me crying in a secret room and deciding to destroy me slowly instead of killing me quickly.
"Keep her alive but broken," he'd told Beta Thorne—the man I thought was my father. "I want her to live knowing she's worthless. Let her suffer the way her parents made me suffer by being born beneath them."
The memories release me, and I'm gasping, tears streaming down my face.
"You killed them because you were jealous," I whisper. "Because you wanted power you couldn't earn."
"I took power I deserved," Dominic snarls. "And I'll take it again by removing the last obstacle."
He shifts into his massive black wolf and lunges at me.
Roman and Kieran both roar, racing to intercept, but they're still too far away.
I don't need them.
I place the crown on my head, and the world explodes with golden light.
Power floods through me—not just my own, but the accumulated strength of every Alpha in my bloodline going back centuries. Warriors and queens and protectors, all flowing into me through the crown's magic.
I shift for the second time in my life, but this time it doesn't hurt.
This time, it feels like coming home.
My silver wolf emerges, but she's different now. Bigger. Stronger. Crowned with light that makes even Dominic hesitate mid-leap.
When I speak, every wolf within a hundred miles hears my voice in their mind:
I am Isla Thorne, daughter of Alpha Marcus and Alpha Elena, rightful heir to the Royal Moon Pack. And I challenge Alpha Dominic Blackthorn for the throne he stole from my family.
Dominic crashes into me, and we tumble across the battlefield in a mass of teeth and claws and fury.
He's bigger. More experienced. Trained for battle his entire life.
But I have something he'll never understand: I have nothing left to lose.
Every blow he lands, I return twice as hard. Every bite, every scratch, every desperate attempt to overpower me just fuels my rage.
Eighteen years of abuse. Eighteen years of being told I'm worthless. Eighteen years of watching my sister—my stepsister—take everything that should have been mine.
All of it pours out in this fight.
"You can't win!" Dominic's voice fills my mind as we break apart, circling each other. "You're just a child playing dress-up!"
"I'm a queen reclaiming her kingdom," I snarl back.
We clash again, and this time, I feel it—the moment when his strength starts to fade and mine doesn't. The moment when eighteen years of suppressed power finally overwhelms eighteen years of stolen authority.
I get my jaws around his throat.
One bite. That's all it would take. One crushing bite, and the monster who killed my parents dies.
Do it, my wolf urges. He deserves it.
But something makes me hesitate.
Killing him would make me just like him. A ruler who takes power through murder.
"Yield," I growl against his throat. "Yield and face justice, or die here like the coward you are."
For a long moment, Dominic doesn't move. Then, slowly, he shifts back to human form beneath me—the ultimate sign of submission from an Alpha.
"I yield," he gasps, blood running from wounds I gave him. "The throne is yours."
I shift back too, standing over him in human form, the crown still somehow present on my head even after shifting twice.
Magic. Ancient and powerful.
The battlefield is silent. Every wolf stares at me—some in awe, some in fear, some in confusion.
"The challenge is complete," Roman says, his voice carrying authority even though this isn't his fight. "Isla Thorne is the rightful Alpha of Royal Moon Pack. Does anyone dispute this?"
Silence.
Then, one by one, wolves begin to bow. Roman's pack first, then some of Dominic's warriors who are clearly relieved to be free of his corruption. Even Kieran bows, his ice-blue eyes full of something that might be pride.
Only Celeste remains standing, her face twisted with fury.
"This isn't over," she hisses. "You can't just—"
"Celeste Thorne," I say, my voice ringing with Alpha command. "You are banished from all pack territories for the crimes of dark magic, conspiracy to murder, and treason against the royal bloodline. If you return, the sentence is death."
Celeste's eyes go wide. "You can't! I'm your sister!"
"You're the person who tortured me for eighteen years," I correct. "You suppressed my wolf with dark magic. You helped Dominic hunt me. You tried to kill me. And worst of all, you made me believe I deserved it."
Power builds in my voice. "You're no sister of mine. You're nothing. And now you know how that feels."
Celeste's face crumples, but there's no sympathy in my heart. Not anymore.
Maya appears with silver chains—the kind used to restrain dark magic users. She binds Celeste and Dominic both, dragging them away as they curse and threaten.
And suddenly, I'm standing in the ruins of the pack house, wearing a crown I never asked for, ruling over territories I don't know, with two Alphas looking at me like I'm both salvation and danger.
"So," Roman says carefully. "What now, Your Majesty?"
The title makes me flinch. This morning I was nobody. Now I'm a queen.
"Now," I say, my voice shaking despite the power still humming under my skin, "now I have to figure out how to rule a kingdom I don't remember, unite packs that hate each other, and somehow become the leader everyone thinks I should be."
"You don't have to do it alone," Kieran says quietly. "I know I don't deserve to stand beside you after everything I've done. But let me help rebuild what my father destroyed. Let me prove I'm not him."
"And I'll help too," Roman adds. "Silverpine will always be your ally."
I look between them—my rejected mate and my potential new one. The boy who hurt me and the man who saved me.
Both offering to help carry a burden I never wanted.
"Okay," I whisper, because I genuinely don't know what else to say.
Then Maya runs up, her face pale with fear. "Alpha Isla, we have a problem."
"What now?" I'm so tired. Can't the universe give me five minutes?
"The Council." Maya swallows hard. "The High Council that governs all packs in this region. They heard about the challenge. They're coming here tomorrow to verify your claim to the throne."
"That's good, right?" I ask hopefully. "They'll confirm I'm the rightful heir and—"
"They'll test you," Roman interrupts, his expression grim. "Ancient trials designed to prove you're worthy of royal blood. Trials that most Alphas fail."
"And if I fail?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
Kieran's face is grave. "Then they'll execute you as a pretender to the throne and give the crown to whoever they deem worthy. Probably someone of Dominic's choosing."
The crown on my head suddenly feels impossibly heavy.
I just fought for my life, discovered I'm royalty, defeated a murderous Alpha, and banished my evil stepsister.
And now I have twenty-four hours to prepare for trials that could end with my execution.
"Of course," I mutter. "Why would anything be easy?"
But as I look at the wolves bowing before me, at Roman and Kieran flanking me like guards, at the ruins of the battle I somehow survived, I realize something important:
I'm not the scared, broken girl who woke up this morning.
I'm Isla Thorne. Daughter of murdered royalty. Survivor of eighteen years of abuse. Queen of a kingdom I'm going to rebuild.
And if the Council wants to test me?
Let them try.
I didn't survive this long just to die tomorrow.