The capital buzzed with anticipation. Carriages lined the cobbled roads. Nobles flooded in from every region—draped in shimmering silks, adorned with ancestral jewels, their banners casting shadows across the city streets. The announcement had gone out three days prior: the Lycan King would formally present his daughter to the realm. Mira Damaris. No longer hidden. No longer whispered.
In her chambers, Mira stood in stillness. Her gown was silver and black, the Damaris crest embroidered over her chest—a moon split by flame. Her hair had been swept into elegant braids, coiled with thread of silver. She held her sons’ hands, both boys dressed in matching black tunics with silver trim.
“You ready?” she whispered. Caelan nodded. Rowen yawned. Mira smiled faintly and kissed the top of each head. “Let’s show them who we are.”
When the doors opened, the ballroom froze. Every conversation halted. Every eye turned. Mira stepped forward, chin lifted. She didn’t rush. Every step echoed against the marble. Her sons walked beside her. A mother. A warrior. A princess.
She was no longer the discarded Luna. She was royalty. Gasps and murmurs filled the room.
“She looks like Queen Elenya.”
“That’s her? That’s the girl from Northcrest?”
“She’s magnificent.”
The musicians faltered. The servants bowed. Every noble straightened in place. Ronan stood near the front of the hall, stiff in his ceremonial attire. His eyes widened. His mouth parted slightly. He stepped forward.
“Mira,” he breathed. “Please—just... wait.” She stopped. The music ceased. He took another step, hands trembling. “I was wrong. I see it now. I see you.”
Mira’s voice was cool. “You saw me when I was weak. And you turned away.”
“I thought I needed more. I thought the pack—my duty—”
“You thought I was disposable,” she cut in.
Ronan’s voice cracked. “You were never disposable. I was a fool. I let my mother, my pride, rule me. But when you left... it destroyed me.”
“Good,” Mira said sharply. “You needed breaking.”
He dropped to one knee, head bowed. “Please. Just one chance. I will do anything. I will beg before every court. Just... let me be part of their lives. Let me know them.”
Mira’s expression hardened. “You ignored their lives when they were forming inside me. When I was alone. Cold. Bleeding.”
“I didn’t know,” Ronan said hoarsely. “I didn’t think—I never imagined you would leave.”
“I begged you to see me,” she whispered. “And now you want to see what you discarded?”
“I was blind. Arrogant. I believed I was doing the right thing.”
“No,” she said, stepping forward. “You believed I was yours. To control. To silence.”
The room was deathly quiet.
“I remember the way your mother called me barren. I remember how you walked away. You shattered me, Ronan. And now you kneel because you see what you lost.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I know I failed you. And them. But please, Mira... please let me try.”
“I held them through fevers,” she said. “I sang to them through nightmares. I built a world from nothing. Alone.”
His eyes glistened. “Let me at least know them. Let me try to be something for them.”
“You want to be their father now?” Mira said. “After leaving me to die?”
“I want to fix what I can.”
She shook her head. “You want to fix what makes you uncomfortable. You want to patch over your shame.”
He reached out, but stopped short. “I want my family back.”
“You never saw us as family,” she said coldly. “You saw us as an obligation. As for mistakes.”
Mira took one final step toward him. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“You chose to discard me when I was flawless. Now you only beg because I am more.”