Amelia

Three Years Later

“No, Augustus. We are not investing in the project until our conditions are fulfilled.” My tone was sharp, leaving no space for argument as I skimmed through the fine print on the contract.

They really thought I wouldn’t catch their scheme? That I’d blindly sign away millions, let them reap profits I had no intention of giving? Not happening. Not today. Not ever. Especially in my reign.

“Are you sure, Amy?” Augustus’s voice crackled through the phone. Calm, curious, but I knew him too well, he was testing me.

We weren’t just cousins, we were business partners. Together, we built one of the most valuable pharmaceutical companies on the market, and when we went public a year ago, our wealth turned into power. Billionaires, yes. But more than that, we were untouchable. We had everything that people feared– Real Talent, Endless Wealth, Political Connections and a Strong Bloodline to back us up. I was the daughter of the Alpha of the strongest Pack in the kingdom and granddaughter of the king of the werewolves. Augustus was an aristocrat with endless wealth and the nephew of the Werewolf Queen.

“Yes,” I said flatly, leaning back in my leather chair. “I don’t conduct business with cheaters. We’ll find another company. One who remembers we are not prey.”

A pause, then a chuckle. “All right. Still as ruthless as ever.” His voice softened, playful now. “By the way, I’ll be arriving at the Pack soon. And I have a surprise for you.”

My brow arched, my lips curving into a wry smile. “Really? Would you give me a hint?”

“That would ruin the surprise, cousin.”

I rolled my eyes, smirking despite myself. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

“Any chance you’ll be bringing my best friend with you?” I asked quickly. “She’s been ghosting me for weeks now.”

A short silence, then his amused voice. “Eleanora has her own secrets, Amy. Trust me, she is not even ready to share them with her twin brother! Can you believe it? We shared the same womb, but she is not telling me what's going on in her life.”

Eleanora. His twin sister. My best friend. The girl who had been my shadow since birth. When I came here three years ago, shattered and half-alive, my family caught me before I hit the ground. They shielded me. Loved me. Gave me strength when I had none left.

If not for them, I would not be alive today.

Leaving my study, I found Layla, the housekeeper, arranging flowers in the vase. “Where’s Justin?” I asked.

Her face instantly lit up. “With Luna.”

My lips curved. Of course.

When I entered the hall, my heart softened instantly.

My mother sat on the sofa, her red hair gleaming in the morning light, and in her arms was my son. Justin giggled wildly as she cooed nonsense in that sweet singsong baby voice. When she stopped, his tiny hands patted her cheeks, demanding more, and when she obliged, he dissolved into another round of laughter.

Warmth spread through me as I looked at my little boy.

Justin had been born premature, as he was so small, so fragile that the doctors whispered he might not survive the night. But my mother—my extraordinary doctor mother—refused to let him go. She fought for him, breathed life back into his body, until his cries shook the world.

And now, he was her obsession. Her joy. Her entire heart.

When I first came home, broken and bruised, I thought they would not accept my child. That he would be a reminder of my shame. But I was wrong. They adored him. My father even more so because my mother’s laughter returned because of Justin. And for my father, her smile was everything.

“Good morning, Mommy,” I greeted softly, kissing her cheek before looking down at the small bundle of energy in her arms. “And good morning to you, little tiger.”

“Mommy, me is wolf!” Justin cried proudly, attempting a baby howl that made both of us burst into laughter.

I scooped him into my arms, smothering his chubby cheeks with kisses. “Mommy missed her little wolf.”

“Me missed Mommy more!” he chirped in his baby voice. His eyes sparkled before he added seriously, “Baby loves Mommy the most.” Then he turned dramatically toward his grandmother. His gasp was loud, his tiny hands clutching her sleeve. “And Scarlet also!”

Little one dared not offended his grandmother who fullfil all his whims. She spoiled him to the moon and the back.

My mother and I laughed until our sides ached.

Later…

“How is work, darling?” she asked, pouring tea into my cup.

“Good,” I said with a calm smile. “There’s nothing I cannot handle. Setbacks are common. But I am Amethyst Lockwood, I always get what I want, how I want.”

My father, seated at the head of the table, nodded approvingly. His presence was calm but powerful, his voice always collected, like the Alpha he was. “I spoke to your grandfather yesterday.”

By grandfather, he meant the King of Werewolves, whom I had met only once.

“He believes it’s time we announce your return. For three years, we kept your identity and Justin’s hidden for your safety. We searched tirelessly, but the ones who attacked you… No leads. Nothing. It’s time we stop hiding in shadows. Our soldiers are ready. And, Amy, I will not breathe easy until every last one of your enemies is dead.”

My mother’s hand squeezed mine, trembling. I knew the nightmares still plagued her from the day I was kidnapped, dragged into darkness.

I lifted my chin. My voice was steady. “You’re right, Father. It’s time Amethyst Lockwood steps into the light. We’ve been playing this game in the dark for too long. It’s no fun anymore.”

My father’s laugh rumbled, proud and fierce. “Spoken like my brave daughter.” But then his eyes darkened. “If we announce you… We must also announce Justin.”

The air grew heavy. I knew exactly where he was going.

Straightening my back, I met his gaze. My voice was sharp. “We owe nothing to Silas Thorne. He set his own pyre the moment he destroyed me. If he dares to breathe near my son, I will set fire to him and everything he touches. If he thinks he has a claim on Justin after all he has done—” My voice dropped into a snarl. “I will destroy him.”

My father’s eyes gleamed with pride and something darker, like vengeance. He didn’t need more than my words to declare war.

Silas Thorne would never touch my son. Not while I was alive. Not even in death.

And yet…

Why do I still care about him?

My heart whispered what my lips refused to.

“Silas Thorne…” My voice trembled with a dangerous promise. “We will meet again. We may be divorced, but we are still mated. We have to reject each other, get rid of this ridiculous mate bond and set each other free…Once, I loved you so deeply that I lost myself. For that love, I will not seek vengeance. I will not hurt you… unless you come for what is mine. And if you do, then hell itself will be too weak to hold back a woman scorned.”