Awakening
Copyright ©️ AngilaBThorne 2026
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, other electronic methods, or translations to another language without prior written permission. This novel belongs solely to me. So don’t steal it. I work very hard on all my novels.
I’d been sitting on the reading bench for over an hour, sprawled out beneath the large stained-glass window. The stack of noble invitations, which needed to be addressed this week, sat untouched. The sun shifted, and a patch of translucent, moon-like light from the window fell across my hands.
It was enough. Just the sight of that silver glow was enough to drag my mind back to that night.
Every day has always been the same since my awakening ceremony, my life has been locked in a loop—study, train, and repeat—until even the hours feel identical. The expectations were always there, but that night—terrifying and agonizing—beneath the full moon’s glow, everything truly changed. It was the confirmation of everything they’d ever questioned, the fulfillment of the prophecies our ancestors foretold millennia ago.
“Seraphina!”
“Seraphina?! Hello? Are you paying any attention? You’ve been reading the same paragraph for over twenty minutes.” Thalia said with raised eyebrows and an annoyed expression.
I quickly pulled myself out of the thoughts and lifted my head, meeting the fiery violet eyes of my now irritated head lady-in-waiting. “We need to send out the invitations to all of the noble packs by this week, so you need to make a decision already.”
Thalia quietly and gracefully sat down next to me, and with her petite, slender fairy hands, she took mine in her own, gently cupping them. Her face softened. “I know it can all be overwhelming. Extraordinarily overwhelming. But this is going to be a chance to show everyone how bold and strong you are, and also find your possible fated mate. And I mean, if you really don’t want to be surrounded by gorgeous, powerful men all night. All those exquisitely dressed muscles, tattoos, and that strong, brawny scent…”
“Now who’s daydreaming?” I chuckled softly.
Thalia’s eyes fluttered, as if she were mentally brushing away a delicious image.
“I think you’re drooling a little,” I teased, gesturing to the corner of her mouth.
Thalia gave the top of my hand a light, playful slap. “Oh, hush,” she said with a devilish grin. “Now, up, up. Time to get changed for your training lesson with Theus.” She gave my back a light pat and waved me toward the armoire.
I stood and strode over to my large armoire where I pulled out a pair of black leggings and a white sports bra crop top. “Have fun,” Thalia said while winking at me and closing the door.
Training is actually my favorite part of the day. But lately, I’ve become so skillful they have to bring in the best warriors from multiple packs and constantly rotate them out. This works well for many reasons: I get to test my various moves and skillsets, and I get a chance to prove to other pack leaders how formidable their future queen will be. In under two months, I will have to demonstrate to every noble Lycan pack leader just how unyielding their crowned princess truly is.
I am the first Alpha Princess and will be the first Alpha Queen in centuries. All of the strongest Lycan’s from every pack will be required to attend the Sentri Ball on my twentieth birthday, where I will finally be able to scent my mate. Everyone expects this to be the most important union in centuries. Me? I’m nervous as hell. I’ve been preparing to take the throne since I first shifted and it became known that I was a born alpha, blessed by the Moon Goddess.
I finished tying my long, wavy, platinum blonde hair in a high ponytail, slipped on black tennis shoes, and headed out the door to work out this frustration on a new opponent.
The strike to his ribs wasn’t just physical; it carried the barest charge of Alpha magic, knocking the air from his lungs. Theus clutched his chest, gasping. Ten minutes ago, the massive, six-foot-five Beta had looked at me with a lazy grin. He’d clearly dismissed the rumors of my strength, seeing only a five-foot-six “pretty princess.” It took one swift dodge of his clumsy attack, and one precise move, to remind him exactly who he was facing. I briefly considered prolonging the match, but it would have gotten too boring too fast.
“She’s a lot tougher than she looks, huh?” Harlan’s voice, low and laced with a smirk, drew my attention to the doorway. He was leaning against the stone arch, arms crossed.
I just shrugged my shoulders, a grin tugging at my mouth.
“Come on, Princess. The King wants a word. Leave the pup to lick his wounds.”
“Does it ever get old putting dogs in their place?” I asked, rolling my eyes.
Harlan chuckled, sticking his hand out and bowing his head in exaggerated reverence. “Shall we go, my lady?”
“Yes, we shall. Father awaits.”
Our elbows locked—a familiar, comfortable antagonism—as we started the long walk down the grand halls toward my father’s study. Harlan leaned down, his voice a low rumble in my ear. “You know, what if I ended up being your fated mate? I’d be able to terrorize my little Phephe day and night.”
My eyes darted up to meet his, my lids narrowed. “I don’t think the Moon Goddess has such a sick sense of humor”. Harlan, one of the King’s Beta’s sons, had been like a brother to me our whole lives. We were constantly causing mischief and annoying his perfectly behaved twin, Killian. The thought of being mated to Harlan would truly be the Moon Goddess’s cruelest joke.
Harlan and I stopped at the grand oak doors of the study. He squeezed my arm once—a genuine gesture of good luck—before dropping his hand.
The King’s study was a sanctuary of old power. Carved mahogany furniture, heavy and imposing, filled the air with the scent of aged wood and paper. Sunlight streamed through the large window behind his desk, illuminating specks of dust that danced over the vast, empty surface. From here, one could see the entire front courtyard, the grand fountain at its heart. Flanking the walls, tall bookshelves held millennia of Lycan law, and a massive map dominated the far wall, charting every territory under the Crown.
My father, King Marek, sat in his high-backed chair, a formidable figure even at rest. He gestured to the plush, velvety chairs facing his desk. His gaze was sharp, and I knew instantly this wasn’t about the invitations.
“Leave us, Harlan,” my father commanded, his voice a low rumble that settled the room’s atmosphere.
Harlan gave a clipped bow and backed out, leaving me alone to face the King. I crossed the room and took the middle chair, instantly feeling smaller beneath the weight of his expectations.
“You’re late,” he said, skipping any pleasantries.
“I was training, Father. You summoned me directly from the yard.”
He waved a hand, dismissing my excuse. “We have more pressing concerns than whether Theus is breathing. The noble pack Alphas begin arriving in two weeks for the treaty discussions, long before the Sentri Ball.”
My pulse quickened. “Pre-sentri meetings?”
“Yes. And this year, your role is changing. You will be at my side for every meeting, every conflict resolution. You will listen and learn how a true Alpha Queen manages her alliances.”
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. “Specifically, we need to focus on the new Alpha of the Nightclaw Pack. Draven.”
The name landed like a stone. The Nightclaw Pack. Brutality, hunger for territory, and a cold ambition were their trademarks.
“Draven didn’t just inherit the title after his father’s death last year,” the King continued, his gaze drifting to the large map on the wall. “He seized it and, in doing so, amplified his father’s most dangerous ambitions: land and power. He is not a reckless youth, Seraphina. He is a cruel, calculated force who sees our alliances as weak points to exploit. He has already sanctioned several brutal movements on neutral borders.”
The King’s eyes locked with mine, commanding my attention. “Keeping his alliance under the Crown is essential. He must see our strength, but also our unwavering unity. When they arrive, you are not just my daughter. You are the symbol of our dynasty, and you will be my voice in every discussion that matters. Do you understand your assignment?”
I swallowed, the political reality of the situation tasting like metal on my tongue. “Is he even going to accept our invitation?”
My father didn’t answer right away. He simply fixed me with a hard, Alpha glare that communicated the truth without words. Draven was a gamble. “He will come,” the King stated, his voice ringing with forced certainty. “If he doesn’t show, that is an act of war, and Draven is not yet foolish enough to initiate open conflict.”
The air felt suddenly thin. War. It was the word my training had been preparing me for, but one I hoped to never utter. My father was staking the kingdom’s peace on Draven’s political calculation.
I took a deep breath, pushing down the anxiety. My role as Alpha Princess, the Moon Goddess’s favored, was bigger than my fear. I would do anything to protect my father, my kingdom, and my people to keep this treaty.
“I understand, Father,” I said, meeting his gaze squarely. My voice was steady, the Alpha in me refusing to let the burden waver my tone. “I will be prepared.”
The King gave a curt nod, the dismissal sharper than any spoken words. I rose, bowed with the deference my position demanded, and quickly exited the heavy study.
I needed the quiet, long halls to breathe, to settle the cold dread the name Draven had instilled. But my moment of solitude ended abruptly when I rounded the corner.
Killian was waiting, leaning against a marble pillar much like his twin had leaned against the stone archway of the training yard. But where Harlan was all challenging smirk and swagger, Killian was calm—his posture relaxed, his honey blonde hair neat, and his eyes, a thoughtful clear icy blue, met mine with immediate concern.
He didn’t bother with a formal greeting. “How bad was it?” he murmured, pushing off the column.
“Draven’s coming to the treaty meetings,” I said, unable to hide the weight of it. “And Father wants me by his side. Front and center.”
Killian’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He didn’t scoff or make a crude joke like Harlan would have; he simply understood the political danger. He was the better strategist, the quiet balance to his brother’s chaos.
“That’s a challenge, Seraphina. Not an honor,” he said softly.
“I know.” I looked down the long corridor, toward the training grounds I’d left so abruptly. “But my Alpha blood doesn’t give me the luxury of backing down. I accepted. I’m prepared.”
Killian’s gaze was steady, focused entirely on me. “Be careful, Phe. Draven has a reputation for testing limits, and now you are the limit.” He reached out, his hand resting briefly and warmly on my shoulder—a silent promise of loyalty.
I nodded, feeling a quiet gratitude for his unwavering support.
I watched him turn and head in the direction of the study. He was likely going in to provide the King with the tactical analysis he’d been waiting for. But I turned the opposite way, towards the quiet solitude of my room, the echo of his warning lingering in the silence.
Draven has a reputation for testing limits. And now I am the limit.
