The Lycan King's Secret Daughter novel Chapter 2

SYLRIA’S POV

I sat on the edge of my bed, still dressed in my festival finery, the weight of the night crushing down upon me. Outside my window, the last of the celebration fires had died to embers, much like whatever remained of my marriage.

My fingers trembled as I reached to unclasp the Luna pendant from around my neck. What was the point of wearing it now? The silver felt cold against my palm—as cold as Rovan’s eyes had been when he announced his second mate before the entire pack.

A second mate. The words echoed in my mind, each repetition another dagger between my ribs.

I hadn’t even managed to remove my ceremonial dress when the door to my chambers burst open without warning. Lady Vela swept in like a winter storm, Neressa trailing behind her with a smirk that made my skin crawl.

“Still in bed? How convenient,” Lady Vela’s voice dripped with contempt as her gaze raked over me. “The festival grounds need attending to, and here you are, hiding away.”

I straightened my spine, refusing to cower. “I was just changing, Lady Vela. I assumed the servants would handle—”

“You assumed?” Neressa cut in, circling to the other side of my bed, effectively trapping me between them. “Perhaps that’s been your problem all along. Too many assumptions.”

“What do you want?” I asked, proud that my voice didn’t waver.

Lady Vela’s lips curved into something too sharp to be called a smile. “Want? I want what’s best for my son. For our pack. Something you’ve clearly failed to provide.”

“I have served this pack loyally for three years,” I said, rising to my feet. “I have fulfilled every duty asked of me.”

“Every duty? Truly?” Neressa laughed, the sound like shattering glass. “Tell me, where are the pups that should be running through these halls by now? Where is the next generation of Blackmaw leadership?”

The familiar accusation pierced deeper than usual tonight. I turned away, unwilling to let them see the pain in my eyes.

“Nothing to say?” Lady Vela pressed, moving closer. “No defense for your barren womb? For the weakness you’ve introduced into our bloodline?”

“My fertility is not—”

“Your fertility is everything!” Lady Vela snapped, her composure cracking. “You were given the honor of being Luna, an honor you never deserved, and you’ve failed in the most fundamental way possible.”

Neressa picked up one of my hairpins from the dressing table, examining it with false interest. “Lady Elene comes from fertile stock. Three sisters, all with healthy litters. Her mother bore six children. Unlike some, she understands her purpose.”

“My worth isn’t measured solely by my ability to bear children,” I said quietly, though a part of me had begun to believe their poisonous words.

Lady Vela laughed, the sound devoid of any humor. “Oh, but it is. And now that Rovan has finally seen sense and taken a proper mate, what exactly is your purpose here?”

“I am still Luna,” I insisted, though the words felt hollow even to my own ears.

“In name only,” Neressa replied, dropping the hairpin carelessly. “And names can be stripped away as easily as they’re given.”

Lady Vela moved to my wardrobe, flinging the doors open with unnecessary force. She pulled out a plain servant’s dress, tossing it onto the bed between us.

“This seems more appropriate for your new station,” she said. “The celebration cleanup awaits. The servants could use another pair of hands, and since you’re gradually becoming one of them…”

“I will not—”

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