Rowena's POV
The throne room falls silent after Dashiell's demand.
My heart pounds so hard I think everyone can hear it. Uncle Dashiell is using Blood Law to drag me back—back to the pack that laughed at me, back to Callister who rejected me, back to a life of poison and lies.
And Thorne can't stop him because we haven't completed the mate bond.
"The law is clear," one of the Council members says, his gray beard trembling as he speaks. "Without a claiming mark, there's no proof of a mate bond. The girl returns to her guardian."
"No." The word bursts from my mouth before I can stop it. "I'm not going back."
Dashiell's cold eyes fix on me. "Rowena, you're confused. The rejection has damaged your mind. You need to come home where we can care for you properly."
"Care for me?" I laugh, and it sounds wild even to my own ears. "Like you 'cared' for me by feeding me wolfsbane every morning for twelve years?"
Gasps ripple through the Council members. Callister takes a step forward, his face pale.
"That's impossible," he says, but his voice wavers. "Father wouldn't—"
"Wouldn't what?" I turn on him, all my rage and pain focusing on the boy who promised me forever and then shattered me. "Wouldn't poison his own niece to keep her weak? Wouldn't lie about vitamins? Ask him, Callister. Ask your father why I didn't shift until I was nineteen when everyone else shifts at thirteen!"
Callister's amber eyes meet Dashiell's. "Father?"
"She's delusional," Dashiell says smoothly. "The Lycan King has poisoned her mind against her own family—"
"I have test results." Isolde's voice cuts through the room as she enters, carrying a wooden box. The Lycan healer moves with quiet authority, setting the box on a table. "Blood samples taken from Miss Hartwell when she arrived. The wolfsbane levels are consistent with long-term exposure—years, not days."
She pulls out vials of dark liquid, and even from here, I can smell the bitter scent of wolfsbane.
The Council members lean forward, examining the evidence.
"This proves nothing," Dashiell argues. "She could have ingested wolfsbane herself. Adolescent females sometimes take it to delay their first shift—"
"For twelve years?" Thorne's voice is deadly quiet. "She would have died from that much exposure."
"Unless," Isolde adds, "she had Lycan blood protecting her. Regular wolves can't survive prolonged wolfsbane poisoning. But Lycan-blooded individuals have natural resistance."
The room erupts in whispers. One Council member stands abruptly.
"Are you suggesting this girl carries Lycan bloodline?"
"I'm not suggesting," Isolde says calmly. "I'm stating fact. Her blood markers are unmistakable. Rowena Hartwell is Lycan-blooded. The last of the Hartwell line."
Dashiell's face goes white. Just for a second, before he controls his expression. But I saw it—the flash of fear.
He knew. He's always known.
"The Hartwells were exterminated in the war," Dashiell says. "Their bloodline died with them—"
"Not all of them." Thorne descends from his throne, moving to stand beside me. "Rowena survived. And someone wanted to make sure she never discovered what she was."
The mate bond hums between us, and I feel strength flowing from him to me through that golden thread. My wolf stops trembling and lifts her head.
Callister is staring at me like he's seeing me for the first time. "You're... you're Lycan-blooded?"
"Apparently." My voice is bitter. "But nobody thought to mention that. Not my uncle who raised me. Not my best friend who promised to mate me." I look directly at Callister. "Did you know? Is that why you rejected me? Because of what I am?"
"I—" Callister's face twists with guilt. "Father said you had Hartwell blood. He said the Council would destroy us if I mated you. But I didn't know you were actually Lycan—"
"You rejected her to save your own position," Thorne growls. "How noble."
"Don't you dare judge me!" Callister's wolf surfaces, his eyes flashing amber. "You killed her parents! You have no right—"
"I killed them based on lies!" Thorne's voice booms through the throne room, silencing everyone. "I was told the Hartwells were building weapons to exterminate Lycans. I was shown documents, evidence, intelligence reports. And like a fool, I believed it."
He turns to face the Council directly. "But now I'm starting to wonder who provided that intelligence. Who wanted the Hartwell bloodline eliminated so badly they were willing to start a war."
All eyes turn to Dashiell.
My uncle's expression is perfectly calm, but I see his hand clench into a fist.
"These are wild accusations with no proof—"
"Then you won't mind a formal investigation," one of the Council members says slowly. "If you're innocent, you have nothing to fear."
"I refuse to be interrogated based on the ravings of a traumatized girl and a guilty Lycan King trying to absolve himself!" Dashiell's voice rises. "I came here to retrieve my niece under Blood Law. Either enforce it, or admit the Council has no authority."
The Council members exchange glances. The oldest one, with the gray beard, speaks.
"The law is clear. Without a completed mate bond, Blood Law supersedes all claims. The girl must return with her guardian."
"No!" I step forward, my wolf surging. "I won't go back! He poisoned me! He's been trying to kill me for years!"
"Then accept the mate bond," Thorne says quietly beside me. "Right here. Right now. Let me claim you, and Blood Law can't touch you."
I turn to stare at him. His golden eyes are intense, serious.
"You want me to complete the bond?" My voice comes out as a whisper. "With you? My parents' killer?"
"I want you alive," Thorne says. "Everything else, we can figure out later. But if you go back with him, you'll be dead within a week. You know it. I know it."
He's right. I can see the calculation in Dashiell's eyes—the moment I'm back under his control, I'll have an "accident." The girl who knows too much, who carries the wrong bloodline, who threatens whatever conspiracy he's been hiding.
But accepting Thorne means bonding myself to the man who destroyed my family.
My wolf makes the choice for me. She surges forward, taking control, and suddenly I'm shifting—bones cracking, silver-white fur sprouting.
My wolf approaches Thorne's Lycan form—he shifted without me noticing, his massive black beast standing protectively over me.
The mate bond blazes between us, demanding completion.
I press my muzzle against his, accepting the bond with every fiber of my being.
The golden thread explodes into brilliant light that fills the entire throne room.
I feel Thorne's emotions crash into mine—guilt, hope, fierce protectiveness, and underneath it all, a desperate need to keep me safe.
The claiming mark burns itself into my throat—not just a bite mark, but a glowing golden symbol that marks me as the Lycan King's mate.
When I shift back to human form, I'm wearing the mark like a collar of light.
Dashiell's face contorts with rage. "No! You can't—this is illegal! She's underage for mating without guardian consent—"
"She's nineteen," Thorne says coldly, shifting back to human. "An adult by both werewolf and Lycan law. And the mate bond supersedes Blood Law. She's mine now. You have no claim."
The Council members nod reluctantly. The law is clear.
But Dashiell isn't finished. His eyes lock on mine, and something in them makes my blood run cold.
"You've made a grave mistake, niece," he says softly. "You think you're safe now? You think the Lycan King can protect you?" He laughs. "You have no idea what's coming. No idea what you are or what you've inherited."
"What are you talking about?" I demand.
Dashiell's smile is cruel. "Your mother didn't just carry Lycan blood. She carried the Hartwell Crown Right—the ability to challenge and overthrow any Lycan King through combat."
The room goes silent.
Thorne's hand finds mine, squeezing tight.
"And now that you've completed your first shift," Dashiell continues, "now that your bloodline has awakened, that power passes to you." His eyes gleam with malice. "The moment you fully mature into your Lycan form—which will happen within weeks—you'll become the greatest threat to the Lycan throne in history."
He turns to Thorne. "Enjoy your new mate, King Obsidian. Because the law states that any Lycan with Crown Right who mates the current king must either challenge him for the throne... or be executed as a traitor."
My heart stops.
"You're lying," Thorne growls.
"Check the old laws if you don't believe me." Dashiell heads for the door, his wolves following. "You've just mated the one person in the world who's legally required to either kill you or die herself."
He pauses at the threshold, looking back at me with cold satisfaction.
"Your mother refused to challenge the old king. That's why we had to eliminate her." His smile is poison. "Let's see if her daughter is smarter... or just as foolishly sentimental."
The doors slam shut behind him.
I turn to Thorne, the claiming mark burning on my throat.
"Is it true?" I whisper. "Do I have to kill you?"
Thorne's face is grim as he meets my eyes.
"According to the old laws... yes."