Page 50 of Alpha's Exiled Mate

After five years of searching, of yearning, I finally knew her true name.

Chapter 16

Lilia

I hurried down the long corridor, my heart pounding like thunder.

Just a few minutes ago, I had been standing in front of Perock, maintaining a perfect diplomatic smile, but now, I was almost fleeing.

“Mom, you’re walking too fast!” Anna’s small voice broke through my spiraling thoughts, a mix of complaint and concern that tugged at my heart. I slowed my pace, glancing down at my daughter. Her amber eyes—so unmistakably Perock’s—were wide with curiosity and a hint of worry, her small hand clutching the hem of her dress.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I said softly, forcing a calm I didn’t feel, my voice steady despite the storm raging within. “I’m just… a little dizzy.”

Anna’s expression shifted to one of concern, a maturity far beyond her four years that filled me with both pride and a pang of guilt. She reached for my hand, her tiny fingers wrappingaround mine with a gentle determination. “We should go back to our rooms. You look tried, mom.”

“You’re right,” I said, managing a faint smile, though it felt fragile, like glass about to crack. “This is… harder than I expected.”

Five years. Five long, grueling years, and now I’d faced Perock again. The moment his gaze locked onto mine during the welcome ceremony, a familiar jolt surged through me, electric and undeniable, reawakening memories and emotions I’d buried deep in the recesses of my heart. The pull of our bond was as strong as ever, undimmed by time, as if the years apart had been a mere pause, not a severance. It was as if my wolf recognized him instantly, stirring with a longing I’d spent years trying to suppress.

“Mom, why was that king staring at you?” Anna asked, her voice innocent but piercing, cutting through my thoughts like a blade.

I’d left her in the carriage during the ceremony, thinking it safer to keep her out of sight, but somehow, she’d seen him, her sharp eyes missing nothing. My throat tightened, a lump forming as I struggled to find an answer. “He was just… surprised by our visit,” I said, swallowing hard, my voice betraying a slight tremor.

“But he looked at you so strangely,” she said, her small brow furrowing in that thoughtful way she had, her amber eyes searching mine. “Like... like how Grandmother looks at you.”

My heart clenched, a sharp pain that stole my breath. Children were so perceptive, picking up on the emotions adults tried so hard to conceal. Anna’s words cut through my carefully constructed defenses, exposing the truth I wasn’t ready to face—that Perock’s gaze had carried the weight of recognition, of longing, of a past I tried to bury.

“Anna, sweetheart,” I said, stopping by a window alcove where the late afternoon light spilled through, casting long shadows across the floor. I crouched to meet her gaze, my hands gently resting on her shoulders. “Do you remember why we’re here?”

She nodded earnestly, her expression serious, her small chin set with determination. “To sign the treaty and strengthen ties between our kingdoms. A diplomatic mission, like you taught me.”

“Exactly,” I said, squeezing her hand gently, her warmth grounding me. “So, we have to stay professional, even when things feel… uncomfortable. It’s our duty as members of the royal family.”

“Like Grandmother says,” Anna replied, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone as she mimicked my mother’s authoritative cadence, “‘Duty comes before personal feelings.’”

I gave a bittersweet smile, a mix of pride and sorrow welling in my chest. For five years, my mother had drilled that lesson into me—the kingdom’s needs always came first, no matter the personal cost, no matter the pain it caused. Now, I was passing the same truth to Anna, preparing her for the weight of her future as a princess of Fellinger, even as it broke my heart to see her so young and already learning such a heavy lesson.

When we reached the suite assigned to us, the maids were ready, their movements efficient as they helped Anna change into comfortable clothes for the evening. I stood by the window, staring out at the palace gardens, their familiar paths winding through manicured hedges and blooming flowers. The sight was both comforting and alien, a reminder of the life I’d once lived here. Five years ago, I’d walked these grounds in the shadow of this palace, experiencing the sweetest and most painful moments of my life as a bride forced to wear another’s name. Now, I was back—not as the masked figure posing as Viossi, butas Princess Lilia of Fellinger, standing tall with my daughter by my side, confronting my past head-on.

The irony of fate was cruel, a bitter twist that seemed to mock me with every step I took in this place.

Five years ago, on that rain-soaked night, I’d fled with Anna still unborn, my heart shattered and my body frail, barely able to carry me forward. Penniless, dressed in a simple gown and a hooded cloak to conceal my face, I stumbled along backroads. I was driven by a desperate need to escape this kingdom and put as much distance as possible between me and the pain I’d left behind.

I crossed through the forest, climbed over hills, almost exhausted. In the heavy rain, I fell in the wilderness at the border of the two countries. I thought I was unable to get up again.

But fate had other plans.

A patrol of Fellinger cavalry found me, their lanterns cutting through the downpour like beacons in the dark. Wary of a suspicious figure wandering the borderlands, they approached with caution, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords, their eyes sharp with suspicion. As they closed in, a surge of power erupted from within me, raw and untamed, unlike anything I’d felt before.

Like the night rogue werewolves had attacked me, my wolf strained against its barrier, desperate to break free, to protect me from the perceived threat. This time, there was no interruption, no force to hold it back. The barrier shattered, and a golden light enveloped me, warm and radiant, as I transformed for the first time. My wolf awakened, its strength coursing through my veins, a primal force that felt both foreign and fiercely right.

The soldiers recoiled, drawing their weapons with shouts of alarm, but their leader—an older werewolf general with weathered features—raised a hand to stop them, his eyes wide with awe. His gaze locked on my wolf form, shifting from shock to disbelief, then to something akin to reverence, as if he were witnessing a miracle.

“Lower your weapons!” he commanded, his voice trembling with emotion. “She-She is…”

Before he could finish, my wolf lunged, driving them back, its growl a warning that echoed through the rain-soaked night. They didn’t dare advance. When I shifted back to human form, collapsing from the strain, the pain of my bones and muscles reshaping lingered, a strange sensation of my body no longer being entirely my own. My limbs ached, my skin tingling with the memory of fur, but beneath the pain was a fierce, triumphant joy.

I was no longer the powerless werewolf, the “defective” one who couldn’t shift. I was whole, my wolf alive and vibrant within me.