Chapter 2

Jazlyn POV:

At the top of the front steps, the main black-iron gates of the Burks fortress remained tightly shut. Only a narrow side door on the right—used daily for dumping swill and hauling rotten meat—stood half-open.

My coachman jumped down into the snow. Standing on the stone steps with her arms crossed was Jeana Hicks, my mother Camila's most trusted head maid. She looked down her nose at my carriage curtain.

"The eldest miss is finally back," Jeana called out in a shrill, grating voice. "Luna Camila ordered that since you've picked up the filthy stench of low-born Rogues in the countryside, you might taint our pureblood pack inside. Take the side door to your courtyard and wash yourself first."

In my past life, I screamed and fought at this filthy side door, only to be labeled a rabid, disrespectful embarrassment by my family before the guards shoved me down and broke my wrist.

Before I could move, a long hand in a white velvet glove ripped the carriage curtain open. Royal Steward Arthur Hayes stepped out, his face dark as iron.

"Insolent wretch! Are your wolf eyes blind? Open them wide and see where this carriage came from!" Arthur's roar echoed across the empty forecourt like thunder.

Hit full-force by the suffocating aura of a high-ranking royal Beta, Jeana's knees buckled. She crashed onto the freezing stone slabs with a loud thud. Behind Arthur, dozens of royal wolf guards in dark-gold armor marched forward, leveling their halberds and surrounding the fortress entrance.

"Decree from the Queen Grandmother!" Arthur unrolled a gold-silk scroll, his voice booming. "The eldest daughter of the Burks pack protected the crown with her life and is granted a royal escort home! Anyone who disrespects her status shall be executed for treason!"

Heavy, frantic footsteps pounded from inside the courtyard. Carrying a wave of panicked Alpha pheromones, my father, Pack Alpha Hartwell Burks, sprinted out through the hastily opened main gates with the clan elders. Right behind him came Camila Stewart in a lavish peacock-blue fur cloak, with my cousin Kalia Pugh clinging timidly to her arm.

When Camila saw me standing in the center of the royal guard formation, the polite smile froze on her face, replaced by a flash of raw panic and venom.

"Greetings, Lord Steward! Forgive me for not welcoming the royal guard in time!" Hartwell dropped to one knee in the snow, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

Arthur gave a cold grunt, not even bothering to tell my father to rise. Instead, he turned and bowed slightly to me. "Miss Jazlyn, please enter through the main gate."

Servants scrambled to unroll a deep red carpet over the snow. I walked past Camila's bloodless face and Kalia's trembling shoulders, the Moonstone Rosary on my wrist glowing with a bright blue halo. My father's pupils shrank to pinpricks when he spotted the beads. As a Pack Alpha whose title relied entirely on royal favor, he knew exactly what the Queen Grandmother's personal treasure meant.

We moved into the gilded central council hall. After Arthur finished the formal handover and whispered a few reminders to me, he led the royal guards back to the palace.

The instant the heavy iron doors shut, the warmth in the hall vanished. Camila wiped away her fear and put on the pained expression of a long-suffering mother.

"Jazlyn, making such a huge fuss upon your return... if word reaches the Council of Elders, people will think we mistreated you. You've always been so petty," Camila sighed, shaking her head.

Kalia immediately reddened her eyes and spoke in a soft, fragile voice, "Yes, Cousin. Auntie had the servants clean out the guest quarters for you days ago..."

"Guest quarters?" I raised an eyebrow with a faint smile, looking straight at Camila. "Before I left, I lived in the Rosewood Wing, the brightest courtyard with the best geothermal runes in the fortress."

Camila's expression flickered before she raised her voice self-righteously. "Your cousin suffered nightmares recently! The healer said her body is weak and needs the Rosewood Wing's geothermal array to nourish her spirit! As her elder sister, can't you even spare a single courtyard? Besides, Kalia copies sacred scriptures at the sanctuary every day for our pack's reputation. With your broken, wolfless body, living in such a fine wing is a complete waste!"

In the corners of the hall, several branch-family relatives whispered among themselves, clearly used to this outsider cousin lording over the rightful heir.

I didn't scream or argue like I had in my past life. Twirling the cool moonstone beads on my wrist, I walked calmly to the high seat where my grandmother, Dowager Burks—the Elder Matron of the clan—sat sipping tea, and knelt with impeccable grace.

"Mother is right to scold me. Since Cousin's body is so precious, I would never dare fight her for it," I said, my voice clear and gentle.

The Dowager's hand paused on her teacup, surprise flashing in her sharp old eyes.

"However, during my three years in the south, I worried constantly about Grandmother's aching knees," I continued, looking up at her with pure devotion. "I heard the warm pavilion beside Grandmother's chambers is empty. May I stay there to serve your medicine morning and night?"

Camila's face twisted as if she had swallowed a live coal. The Dowager was an ancient, pureblood high-ranking female wolf whose word carried immense weight in the clan; her side pavilion was a place of honor reserved only for the most favored heir.

"It is rare for you to be so filial. Three years away has made you much more sensible," the Dowager said, her gaze lingering on the royal rosary on my wrist before a satisfied smile touched her lips. "Granted. Starting today, Jazlyn will move into my side pavilion and study the Moon Goddess scriptures with me daily."

Kalia dug her fingernails deep into her palms, her sweet smile cracking at the edges. I rose, bowed gracefully, and brushed past Camila's stiff shoulder toward the rear corridor, leaning in to whisper so only she could hear, "Mother, the show has only just begun."