Aubrey’s POV

Blood. My eyeballs were covered in red, my nose overwhelmed by the sharp scent of rust.

I couldn't believe it—just a moment ago, my brother had been on the stage, receiving his coronation as an Alpha, when suddenly an elder stabbed him in the heart with the alpha's scepter. He hadn't even had a chance to say his vows before collapsing on stage with a tremendous crash.

Ah! Then came all sorts of screams. Omegas fled in terror, clutching their heads, and the high-ranking warriors who had been standing below the stage prepared to shift. But before they could, they were impaled by rogues' claws. I stood below the stage, my legs shaking uncontrollably, until a small hand pulled me under the podium.

It was my maid, Emma. She warned me in horror not to make a sound. I trembled, covering my mouth. With every shrill, agonizing scream from outside, I had to pinch my palm hard to force myself not to cry out, but Emma and I still shook uncontrollably as we huddled together. I didn't know how long we stayed like that, but eventually, I heard it grow quiet outside again. Emma and I crawled out from our hiding place.

We tried to make our way through the corpses to check whether any wolves had survived, but when I saw everything before me, I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. Our pack house had been burned, shattered bodies lay everywhere—they hadn't even spared the newborn pups. I looked at one tiny body lying there lifeless; just the day before, I had cradled him and made him laugh. My tears came even harder, and I bit my lip to stop myself, afraid the enemy might still be nearby.

I was only thirteen years old; I hadn't even shifted yet. I had to seek help from the alpha king. I swore that when I came of age, I would come back and avenge these damned rogues!

But the moment I took a step forward, a sharp blade blocked my path. I saw a huge man, around twenty-five years old, appear before me, his features deeply chiseled. His eyes bore the royal signature color, and I recognized him instantly: the alpha prince, Jax.

An evil grin spread across his face, and before I could even wonder why he was here, he spoke. "Yes, Aubrey. I'm the one who attacked your pack." As if my pain wasn't enough, he licked the corner of his mouth and smiled. "And then, I killed everyone. Their struggles excited me."

Ah, I screamed in anguish and lunged at him, but he just gave me a light shove and I fell to the ground, my ribs aching as if they had snapped in two.

"Why?! Why would you do this?! As a royal wolf, isn't your duty to protect the packs?" I gritted my teeth.

He crouched down like a wolf about to pounce on its prey. Under my terrified gaze, he grabbed my throat and said coldly, "Your parents, your brother—they all thought I wasn't fit to be the alpha king, so they refused to join my side. This is the price for their disobedience."

"You bastard! I swear I'll rip open your heart with my claws." I pounded against his iron grip, his fingers tightening until my vision blurred. Was I going to die here?

"Ivanka, clean her memory. I need to make sure she remembers the rogues killed her family." Through the haze, I heard alpha Jax's voice.

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Seven years later

The crisp morning air nipped at my skin as I stood on the training grounds, my leather armor creaking with each movement. Dawn's pale fingers stretched across the manor's stone walls, casting long shadows over the packed dirt where I had spent countless hours honing my skills. My fingers traced the worn grip of my sword, the familiar texture grounding me as memories threatened to surface.

In this world, female wolves were expected to bow their heads and show deference to the males who claimed to be our protectors. We were meant to tend to pups, maintain dens, and accept our "natural place" in the pack hierarchy. The thought made my lip curl. I had seen what such protection was worth.

The other she-wolves at the manor watched me with barely concealed contempt, their whispered words carrying across the courtyard. "Pride comes before the fall," they said, smoothing their traditional long skirts and averting their eyes when males passed. But I stood tall in my fitted training garb, my shoulders back, my chin level. Let them talk.

My mind drifted to smoke-filled skies and desperate screams. The day the rogues came. Mother's final words, telling me to run. Father's roar, cut short. I gripped my sword tighter, forcing the memories down. They had made me what I was—a warrior who showed no mercy to those who deserved none.

"Your stance is weak." The mocking voice cut through my thoughts. Marcus, one of Prince Jax's elite guards, circled me like a predator. His expensive armor gleamed in the morning light, polished to perfection. "Your head's in the clouds again, little girl."

I shifted my weight, but it was too late. His attack came swift and brutal. Our swords clashed once, twice, and then I was on my back, the breath knocked from my lungs. The impact sent dust billowing around us.

Marcus loomed over me, lips twisted in a sneer. "See? This is where you belong—beneath your betters." His golden eyes flashed with satisfaction. "Submit, like a proper female should."

Hot rage flooded my veins. My fingers curled in the dirt as I prepared to launch myself at him, pride and protocol be damned. But a horn blast cut through the tension—Prince Jax's summons.

Marcus stepped back, adjusting his ceremonial cape with practiced arrogance. "Saved by the horn. Remember your place, Aubrey." He turned away, boots crunching on the gravel path.

I pushed myself up, my body aching less than my pride. The other wolves in the training yard pretended not to watch, but I felt their stares. Some smirked, pleased to see the "arrogant female" put in her place. Others shook their heads, as if my defeat proved what they had always believed—that females had no place wielding weapons.

The horn sounded again, more insistent this time. I brushed the dust from my armor, squared my shoulders, and headed toward the manor's grand entrance. The massive oak doors loomed before me, carved with scenes of ancient wolf battles. As I approached, my reflection in the polished brass handles showed a face I barely recognized anymore—hard eyes, tight jaw, not a trace of the carefree girl I once was.

But I didn't need to be that girl. That girl couldn't protect anyone. That girl watched her family die.

The guards flanking the doors eyed me with barely concealed disdain as I passed. Their whispers followed me down the marble hallway: "Prince's pet project," and "uppity bitch."

Let them talk. Let them all talk. I was what I chose to be, what I had to become. And no male—noble or common, warrior or prince—would make me bow my head again.

"Aubrey, my office. Now."

The voice in my head cut through the rage like a cool morning breeze, instantly dousing the fire in my blood. My heart stuttered, then raced for an entirely different reason. He must have sensed my turmoil—his royal Alpha bloodline granting him that intimate connection to the werewolves' emotions. Something warm unfurled in my chest at the thought of him reaching out to me, wanting to help.

"On my way, Your Highness," I replied through our mental link, already hurrying toward the manor's weathered stone facade. Despite my exhaustion, each step that took me closer to him felt lighter, my skirt rustling against the dewy grass of the training yard.

Prince Jax, firstborn of the Alpha king, was the only reason these training ground vultures limited themselves to whispers. Without his protection, they would have torn me apart with more than just their words long ago. He had rescued me that bloody night, then paraded the rogues who'd attacked me before my eyes, letting me be the hero who brought the blade down on their necks.

The anguish of losing my family was indescribable, and I often woke from nightmares, with Jax bursting into my room to soothe my anguish each time. He was like a father to me, a brother—filling the void their care had left. I knew I shouldn't, but from the first time I heard his powerful heartbeat, I couldn't help but fall for him.

Still, my traitorous heart raced at the thought of seeing him. He thought I viewed him merely as my savior, my protector—if only he knew how my pulse quickened when he was near, how I memorized every detail of his face during our training sessions. His strong jaw always set with determination, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead when he demonstrated a new fighting technique, that rare smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

At twenty-one, I was no longer the trembling thirteen-year-old he rescued, though that's all he seemed to see. He maintained a careful distance, his affection never straying beyond that of a concerned mentor. The ache of it sat heavy in my chest, but I told myself that time would change things. Once I proved myself worthy of standing beside him, once I solved the mystery of my family's murder and cleared my name—then, perhaps, he would see me as the woman I had become.

"I pray that day never comes," Aria, my wolf, whispered through our bond. Her voice carried a mixture of sympathy and stubborn determination. "Those feelings are meant for our mate, Aubrey."

"Jax saved us," I argued back, the familiar debate rising between us. "He deserves—"

"He deserves our gratitude, yes. But not our heart. That belongs to our mate, whether you wish to accept it or not."

"We're not having this discussion now," I cut her off, my hand already raised to knock on the heavy oak door of his office. "He's waiting."

I rapped softly against the wood, the sound echoing in the empty corridor. No verbal response came. Since he had summoned me, I pushed the heavy door open without waiting longer—and instantly wished I hadn't. The scene before me stopped my heart mid-beat, the air rushing from my lungs as if I'd been struck.

Prince Jax had Witch Ivanka perched on his lap, his fingers tangled in her perfect golden curls as he kissed her. Her expensive emerald silk gown pooled around them both, a stark contrast to my training-worn attire. The intimacy of the moment pierced me like a blade between the ribs.

"Breathe," I reminded myself inwardly, clearing my throat.

"Aubrey, you're here." Jax's deep voice cut through my spiral of anguish. He casually shifted Ivanka from his lap with familiar ease, then looked to me. His eyes returned to clarity.

"Yes, Your Highness, you called for me," I replied steadily, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Jax nodded, then settled behind his broad wooden desk, steepling his fingers beneath his chiseled jaw as he said flatly, "You've been assigned as Prince Knox's personal guard."

My eyes widened, my stomach dropping. He knew how dangerous this was! Prince Knox—the king's legitimate son and Jax's half-brother. The enemy.

"Calm your horses, Aubrey." Jax rose from the ornate desk, his boots clicking on the polished floor as he neared, his large palm gripping my shoulder.

He murmured, "Knox's pack is poised to subsume ours. I won't allow it. Will you help me?"

I could feel the heat of his palm searing into me, nearly setting me aflame. I jerked away at once. No, he was too close. I was afraid he would see the more-than-daughterly feelings I harbored—something he would never allow.

But Knox was our pack's greatest threat. If I were discovered as a spy, I would be put to death instantly. I searched Jax's eyes for any hesitation.

But he leaned in, reminding me of my place. "Aubrey, I saved your life when it was nearly taken. When I ask something of you, you should not look as if you'll refuse my command. All you must do is—obey. Without question." His fingers dug into my shoulder, as if his claws would sink deeper should I say no.

My shoulder bled, but my heart ached more—a reminder that I did not deserve deeper feelings for him, that he saw me only as a tool.

"Yes, Jax, you're right." The words tasted like ash on my tongue, and I felt the color leech from my lips as I longed to flee. Especially with Ivanka sitting there, toying with her hair, as if she could sense my inner turmoil and found it laughably pathetic.

I couldn't bear it, as if I'd been caught as a thief. I plastered on a hollow smile, lifting my chin. "May I leave, Your Highness?"

"Of course." Jax's claws retracted, his palm smoothing over where he'd gripped me as he leaned in, his lips brushing my ear as he murmured, "I'm sending you there because you're the only one I trust."

Fireworks exploded in my chest. Alpha Jax trusted only me. I glanced at Ivanka, the witch, but I was the one his heart needed most. My doubts vanished. I met Jax's gaze, resolute. "I won't fail you."

Clapping my back, he dismissed me with a smile. I closed the door behind me, struggling to focus on the task instead of the image of him and Ivanka seared into my mind. This was my chance to prove my worth to him. For him to finally see me not just as the broken girl he'd rescued, but as an equal wolf—or perhaps a woman—worthy of his heart.