"Greetings to Your Majesty," Melissa said softly, keeping her head lowered as she entered the grand hall where the Alpha King sat on a gilded chair.
"Raise your head," the Alpha King commanded. Melissa obeyed, lifting her eyes to meet her father's cold, piercing stare.
Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress, betraying her unease. It had been over six months since her father had come to see her—or even acknowledged her existence.
"Have you received any response from Radulf?" He questioned.
Melissa swallowed hard, her voice barely audible. "N-not yet, Your Majesty."
The Alpha King's expression darkened, and his hand slammed against the armrest of his chair. "What kind of disgraceful daughter are you?" he roared, rising from his seat with a fury that made Melissa instinctively step back while her body trembled in fear.
Four years ago, her father had decreed her marriage to Radulf, a union neither she nor Radulf intended. He was not her fated mate, and the decision had been made purely for political convenience.
Radulf's disdain for the arrangement was evident, especially on their wedding day. Melissa vividly recalled the cold contempt in his eyes as he said his vows.
Before she had the chance to even speak to him privately, he had departed for the Western Frontier to join a war, leaving her abandoned in his crumbling Shadow Hunter Pack.
"You couldn't even secure his mark!" Phillipe's voice thundered across the room. "Is this how you repay the years I fed and housed you? Worthless child!"
His words were a dagger to Melissa's heart. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to remain composed despite the humiliation.
Melissa Rosette was the illegitimate daughter of Phillipe Rosette, the Alpha King of the Nalveri Kingdom. Her mother, an omega servant, had borne her after an illicit affair with the King. Phillipe had never acknowledged Melissa's mother, discarding her as though she were nothing more than an inconvenience.
However, he had begrudgingly accepted Melissa into the royal household—but not as a daughter to be cherished.
Instead, she was exiled to the cold palace, a desolate wing of the castle reserved for those who bore the King's disgrace. For years, she had lived in isolation, treated more as a prisoner than a princess.
Now, standing before the Alpha King, Melissa felt the crushing weight of her lineage and the expectations she could never fulfill. Despite the years of suffering, she lowered her gaze again.
"Father, how am I supposed to win the heart of a man you ordered to the war the very day we married? He didn't even glance at me, let alone mark me! For four years, I've done everything I could. I sent him thousands of letters, poured my heart into every word, but not once did I receive a response."
"How dare you speak to me with that sharp tongue!" he bellowed.
He stormed toward her, seizing her arm in a bruising grip. His other hand clamped around her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. Melissa flinched but did not avert her gaze, even as pain shot through her jaw.
"If you fail to capture Radulf's heart when he returns, you'll regret it," Phillipe hissed, his voice venomous. "I will ensure your survival ends here." With a sharp shove, he released her, causing her to stumble and fall to the cold floor.
Melissa's cheek throbbed, her skin burning where his fingers had left their mark. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at him, her heart aching more from his cruelty than the physical pain.
"As soon as Radulf returns, you will be marked by him. I'll inspect the mark myself," Phillipe spat. "And stop that pathetic crying! You're as weak and useless as ever."
The Alpha King turned and stormed out, leaving Melissa crumpled on the floor.
Her tears flowed freely now, but she quickly wiped them away. "I am nothing but a pawn to him, a tool for his games." She clenched her fists, forcing herself to her feet. Her father's venomous words echoed in her ears, but she refused to let them break her.
The moment she stepped out of the private room, the whispers began. The servants, their gazes filled with mockery, gossiped behind her back.
"She couldn't even secure her husband's mark in four years."
"What kind of Luna is she?"
"An omega pretending to be worthy of an Alpha's title."
Melissa ignored them, as she always had. For years, their spiteful words had been background noise to her struggles. It was nothing new.
Then, a voice boomed down the corridor, halting her in her tracks. "Alpha Radulf has returned!"
Melissa's heart stopped. Her breath hitched as a guard approached her with hurried steps.
"Luna Melissa," the guard said formally, "Alpha Radulf has conquered the Western Frontier and has returned in triumph."
Her heart pounded against her chest. After four long years, she would finally see Radulf again. Without a second thought, her feet moved on their own, carrying her to the entrance of the mansion.
As she stepped outside, the sight of him stole her breath. Radulf sat astride his horse. The years had changed him—he was taller, broader, exuding an aura of absolute command. But his eyes… They were the same. Cold, distant, and devoid of warmth.
"Long live Alpha Radulf! Long live Alpha Radulf!" The chants of the crowd echoed in the air, celebrating their victorious pack Alpha. Radulf got down the horse and took a few steps forward.
Melissa stepped forward, her voice trembling as she finally said, "Welcome back, Radulf."
His piercing gaze shifted to her, freezing her in place. There was no recognition in his eyes, only the same disdain that had haunted her on their wedding day.
"Quiet," Radulf commanded, and the crowd instantly fell silent.
Without sparing her another word, Radulf turned slightly and extended his hand. From behind him, a strikingly beautiful woman stepped forward, her hand sliding into his.
Melissa's heart sank as she saw them holding the hands and at the same time, the murmurs rippled through the gathered crowd.
"She's the Alpha's fated mate. He brought her back from the West," a faint voice fell into her ears.
The same beautiful woman looked at Melissa, her lips curling into a smirk. "So, is this your wife, Radulf? I thought you were unmarried."
Melissa's chest tightened. She had long abandoned the hope of love from Radulf, but some small, fragile part of her had clung to the dream that he would at least acknowledge her.
Radulf's silence was deafening. Without a word, he walked inside with the woman clinging to his arm, ignoring Melissa completely.