Selene shook her head, a cold dread pooling in her stomach. "That's impossible. My parents are as normal as they come. My father's wolf is a deep, muddy brown. My mother's is blonde- like wheat. There's no white in our family tree. I was the 'ghost pup.' Everyone said I was just a freak of the moon."
"Are you sure?" Leo asked, his voice low and serious. "Think back, Selene. Was there anyone else? An uncle? A grandparent? Anyone with even a hint of silver in their fur?"
"Positive!" Selene chirped, though her voice wavered. "I lived with them for nine years. My father was a Gamma, a sturdy, unremarkable man. My mother was a healer. They were... they were normal. Just wolves."
Leo shook his head, looking back at the parchment. "Then something is very wrong. The math doesn't add up. If they were brown and blonde wolves, you shouldn't exist. Not like this. Not with the ability to summon objects and bend the wind."
He looked out the window as the limousine sped through the city, passing the outskirts and heading toward the dense forests of the neutral zones.
"Do you remember the name of your old pack?" Leo asked. "The place where you were born?"
Selene nodded, her mind flashing back to the small, humble village she had fled so long ago. "The Silver-Stream Pack. It's a three-day journey from here by foot."
"We'll be there in four hours," Leo said, his voice regaining its kingly iron. He tapped on the glass to signal the driver. "We're going back to the beginning. I want to see the soil you grew up in. I want to see the records of your birth. If your parents are who you say they are, then we have a mystery. If they aren't..."
He trailed off, but the implication hung heavy in the air.
"If they aren't," Selene whispered, "then who am I?"
Leo didn't answer. He simply pulled her against him, holding her tight as the limousine roared into the darkness. The Charity Auction was forgotten. The jewelry and the fine wine were gone. All that remained was a King, a White Wolf, and a truth that threatened to rewrite the history of their world.
As the car sped toward the Silver-Stream territory, the forest began to thicken. Selene looked out the window, watching the familiar landmarks of her childhood blur past in the dark. She thought of her mother's gentle hands and her father's gruff laughter. She had loved them. She had grieved them when they were gone. But now, a seed of doubt had been planted.
"Leo," she said, breaking the silence. "If my parents lied to me... why would they do it? Why hide what I was?"
Leo looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Maybe to protect you. A White Wolf is a prize, Selene. Or a target. If the world knew what you were back then, before I could find you, you wouldn't have survived your first shift."
The car turned onto a rugged dirt road, the suspension absorbing the bumps of the neglected path.
"We're close," Selene whispered, her heart thumping against her ribs. "I can smell the pines of the stream."
The air in the Silver-Stream territory was thick with the scent of damp pine and the sharp, nostalgic tang of woodsmoke- a scent that acted as a key, unlocking vaults of memory Selene had thought buried under years of survival and palace luxury.
As the royal limousine glided silently through the village, Selene leaned her forehead against the cool glass. Visions flickered like old film reels: her mother's long, wheat-blonde hair swishing like a banner as they navigated the bustling pack markets; her father's booming, barrel-chested laugh echoing through the small house when she presented him with a messy drawing of their family. It was a sensory deluge that made her heart ache with a bittersweet pressure.
"Are you okay?" Leo's voice was low, a grounding vibration that pulled her back from the brink of tears. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with a tenderness that contradicted his fearsome reputation.
Selene nodded, but even as she did, a darker, colder memory clawed its way to the surface. It was a memory of a hidden corner, a young girl huddled behind a heavy oak door, listening to the muffled, jagged sounds of an argument that would shape her destiny.
'If she is a white wolf, you have to kill her! I will not have my lineage erased or my pack slaughtered because you took in a freak! I will not die to the King because of your misplaced pity!'
That was Rolland, the Alpha, his voice shrill with a coward's rage.
'We can't kill our daughter! You can't ask that of us, Alpha!'
Her father's voice had boomed back, a roar of protective fury that had made the house tremble.
'If you don't kill her, John, I will. That is a promise!'
Selene gasped, her breath hitching in her throat as the weight of that forgotten threat hit her. Her parents hadn't just loved her; they had stood in the path of a monster for her. They had engineered her "death" and her disappearance to save her from a blade they knew was coming.
"Selene?" Leo's eyes were sharp, sensing her sudden spike in adrenaline.
"I remember now," she whispered, her gaze fixed on the large white house approaching. "The Alpha... Rolland. He wanted me dead from the start. My parents... they gave me everything by letting me go."
The limousine came to a smooth halt in front of a sprawling white house that looked smaller and sadder than she remembered. The paint was peeling in the corners, and the garden she used to play in was overgrown with wildflowers and weeds. A single light glowed in the living room, casting a warm but lonely amber hue against the curtains.
As the engine cut, the silence of the village was replaced by the soft, frantic padding of feet. Wolves began to emerge from the shadows, drawn by the undeniable, suffocating aura of a Lycan King.
Leo stepped out first, his presence immediately commanding the space. He didn't just stand; he loomed, his midnight suit and emerald-green eyes marking him as a god among men. He turned, offering a hand to Selene. When she stepped out, her white hair catching the moonlight like a halo, a collective, sharp intake of breath rippled through the gathered crowd. To them, she was a ghost made flesh.
"My King," a voice called out, dripping with a forced, oily respect. Alpha Rolland stepped forward, his face etched with the lines of twenty years of bitter rule. Beside him stood Meleline, a tall, sharp-featured woman whose eyes were like chips of flint.
Rolland's gaze flickered to Selene, and for a second, raw, unadulterated terror flashed in his eyes, quickly masked by a sneer. "To what do I owe this... pleasure? And Selene? Is that you, child? We all thought the woods had claimed you years ago."
"Hello, Rolland," Selene said, her voice steady and laced with a regal grace that seemed to grate on the Alpha's nerves. She didn't use his title; she didn't need to.
"That's Alpha to you, girl!" Meleline barked, stepping forward with her lip curled in a snarl. "White wolf or not, you show respect in this territory!"
Leo's head snapped toward the woman, his eyes glowing with a sudden, predatory light. The air around him seemed to drop ten degrees. "My Queen does not need to use titles for those beneath her station," he snapped, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent Meleline reeling back a step. "And you would do well to remember who holds the leash in this kingdom."
He turned his back on them as if they were nothing more than bothersome gnats, his hand returning to the small of Selene's back. "Is this the house?"
Selene nodded, her heart hammering. She led him to the front door, ignoring the whispers of the pack members behind them. She hesitated for a heartbeat, her hand hovering over the wood, before she knocked.