The Alpha’s Rebellious Fiancee novel Chapter 8

Lyra (Seraphina)

I stood before my father, hands clasped tightly in front of me, trying to steady the storm inside me. The golden crest of our family throne glinted behind him, but all I could see was the heavy truth pressing on my chest.

“Who am I marrying?” I asked quietly.

The Alpha King—my father—smiled, his eyes soft with something unreadable. “Someone you already know.”

My brows furrowed. “Who?”

He stepped closer and placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “Someone I believe you understand better than he understands himself.”

His answer only stirred more questions in my heart. Why all this secrecy?

“Father…”

But he just kissed my forehead gently. “You’ll see, my warrior.”

***

I was dressed in a silver gown—simple, but elegant. The fabric shimmered like moonlight, hugging my figure softly and brushing the floor with every step. It had no jewels, no crown, no flashy symbols. Just the color of our bloodline and the quiet strength of who I was.

The ceremonial hall was just ahead, its great doors thrown open to waiting guests. I took one slow breath.

My chest tightened.

At a time like this… I missed her.

Mother.

A flash of memory swept through me like a cold wind.

***

She used to bring dinner to my room on a silver tray—smiling, humming a lullaby under her breath. She’d sit beside me and comb my hair gently, undoing every tangle with patience, her fingers soft as petals.

“Someday, you’ll lead,” she used to whisper. “But you’ll do it your way. Never let duty silence your heart, my little moon.”

That night was the last time I saw her alive. The night of the invasion. I remembered her scream.

I remembered the scent of blood. I remembered her falling—eyes wide with fear—before they took me, dragging me into the dark. My mother died protecting me.