[Daphne’s POV]
Dawn hasn't broken yet when I slip from my room and make my way to the training grounds. This is the only time Hector isn't watching me—too early even for him, and he thinks I'm too compliant to do anything without permission.
He's wrong.
Xander materializes from the shadows near the equipment shed, his presence solid and reassuring. "Ready?"
"Ready." My breath mists in the cold morning air.
“Good.” He circles me, fluid, predatory. “Lesson one: everyone wants something. Find the want, and you see their actions, weaknesses, patterns.”
I pivot to keep him in sight. “What does Hector want?”
“Power—access to the throne through you. Your father’s favor. He’ll play devoted mate and protector while building leverage, making himself indispensable so you’ll feel bound to choose him over court.”
It lands like truth. “And the Queen?”
“To eliminate you.”
I flinch. He stops, grave. “She had your mother killed to protect succession—professionals, staged as rogues. With her son gone and you the only heir, you’re a bigger threat. She’ll try to discredit you as unfit; if that fails, she’ll stage an ‘accident.’”
“That’s insane—”
“That’s court.” He steps closer. “You threaten her power. She won’t step aside.”
My stomach knots. “So I’m surrounded by people who either use me or kill me.”
“Welcome to politics. Accept it, then protect yourself.”
We train like this for a week. Every morning before dawn, Xander teaches me to see the games being played around me.
How to read body language—who defers to whom, who avoids eye contact, who speaks confidently versus who's repeating memorized talking points. How to recognize manipulation techniques—guilt, flattery, false choices, manufactured urgency. How to plan three moves ahead, anticipating responses before I even speak.
I'm a quick study. My natural intelligence, finally given proper tools to work with, devours every lesson. And as I learn, something shifts inside me. The helpless omega who believed every lie dissolves. Someone sharper emerges.
The pack council meeting becomes my first real test.
I sit beside Hector at the head of the long table, surrounded by elders and ranked wolves discussing "the Princess's future" like I'm not even present. Hector dominates the conversation with his usual effortless control, and I watch. Really watch.
Elder Marcus speaks but constantly glances at Hector for approval before continuing. Beta James stays silent, his expression carefully neutral—disagreeing but not wanting to challenge the Alpha. Gamma Sarah nods at everything Hector says, but her hands fidget with her papers. Uncertain. Possibly afraid.
"The Luna's safety is paramount," Hector says smoothly, his tone reasonable and concerned. "Perhaps it would be best if she remained here, where we can protect her, rather than venturing to court where the Queen's supporters might—"
"I disagree."
The interruption cuts through the room like a knife. Silence crashes down. Every head turns toward me.
Hector's eyes flash with surprise and irritation before his expression smooths into benevolent concern. "My dear, you don't understand the dangers—"
"I understand perfectly." I keep my voice calm, measured. Royal. "Staying hidden made sense when no one knew who I was. But now my identity is revealed to the entire kingdom. Hiding makes me look weak. Afraid. A target."
I see Elder Marcus sit up straighter. Beta James's careful neutrality shifts toward interest. Even Gamma Sarah stops fidgeting.
"The Crown Princess should be at court," I continue, meeting the gaze of each council member in turn. "Visible. Strong. Learning her duties publicly so no one can question her legitimacy. Not cowering in a distant pack like she's ashamed of who she is."
It's a direct challenge to Hector's entire narrative, and the room recognizes it. Several elders nod slowly. Hector's smile tightens at the edges.
"We can discuss this privately—"
"No need." I stand, channeling every ounce of authority I've watched my father command. "My father has given me three months to adjust. I intend to use that time preparing for court, not hiding from it. The Crown requires visibility. The kingdom needs to see their Princess."
The meeting concludes with multiple council members approaching to express support for my "wise" decision. Hector's jaw remains clenched throughout.
Afterward, he corners me in the hallway. His hand closes around my arm—not quite painful, but close. The grip of someone who owns something and wants it to remember that fact.
"What was that?" His voice maintains its pleasant tone, but his eyes are hard as stone.
"That was me learning to speak for myself." I meet his gaze without flinching, using every technique Xander taught me. "You've been making my decisions for me. Putting words in my mouth. It stops now."
"I'm your mate. Your Alpha. It's my job to protect you—"
"I'm a Crown Princess." I pull my arm free slowly, deliberately. "I don't need protection—I need support. There's a difference."
For one heartbeat, fury flashes across his face—raw, unguarded, violent. Then he controls it with visible effort, his expression smoothing back into concern.
"Of course. I only want what's best for you." His voice gentles, becomes almost wounded. "Perhaps I've been overprotective. You know how I worry after everything you've been through."
The quick recovery is textbook manipulation. Xander's lessons illuminate every move—Hector trying to seem reasonable while making me doubt myself, feel guilty for asserting boundaries.
"Perhaps," I agree neutrally, giving nothing away.
His eyes narrow slightly before he smiles.
That night, I find Xander in the gardens—our new meeting place. More public, harder for Hector to forbid without raising questions.
"I heard about the council meeting." Pride colors his voice as he approaches through the rose trellises. "You were brilliant."
"He's going to push back harder now." I keep my voice low despite the relative privacy. "I challenged his authority in front of the pack. He won't let that stand."
"I know." Xander moves closer, his presence solid in the darkness. "He'll try different tactics. Guilt, affection, maybe threats if those don't work. And there's something else." His expression grows serious. "The bond between you—it's weakening, isn't it?"
I nod slowly. "Since I started questioning him. Since I stopped accepting everything he said without thinking. It's like the bond was built on my blind trust, and now that trust is gone..."
"The foundation is cracking." His voice goes grim. "Which means either it wasn't as strong as it should be, or—"
"Or it was never real to begin with." The possibility hangs between us like smoke. "I need proof. Concrete evidence the bond was forced. Otherwise it's just my word against an Alpha's, and we both know who the court would believe."
"I'm working on it." Determination hardens his features. "Connor mentioned the tea that morning—how Father prepared it himself, wouldn't let anyone else handle it. If there's any evidence left, any trace of what he used—"
Footsteps crunch on gravel. We spring apart—too late.
Hector steps from the garden’s shadows, expression smooth. “Late-night talks with my son, my dear? How cozy.”
“Training schedules,” I say evenly. “Xander’s helping me strengthen weak areas.”
“Of course.” His smile is all edge. “But perhaps daylight is wiser. Wouldn’t want…misinterpretations about the Luna and her mate’s son.” He lets it hang. “Gossip ruins reputations—especially a Princess’s.”
Message received.
“You’re right,” I say. “Daytime.”
“Excellent.” His hand presses possessively to my back, steering me toward the house. “It’s late. Rest. Tomorrow we’ll discuss your council outburst—privately.”
Over my shoulder, I catch Xander's eye. His expression mirrors my own thoughts.
We're running out of time. Hector knows I'm slipping from his control, and he's going to act soon to reassert it. We need proof of his manipulation, and we need it fast.
Before he finds a way to ensure I can never escape at all.