THE RISE OF THE ALPHA QUEEN

"Dad, I've told you a hundred times—I don’t need a bodyguard." I sighed heavily, collapsing onto my bed. My father remained silent for a moment, yet his presence lingered like a palpable force in the room.

"You know he's only trying to keep you safe," my wolf, Kira, interjected, sounding reproachful.

"Aurelia." My father’s voice, firm and commanding, drew me from my thoughts. I reluctantly sat up and met his gaze. His silver eyes, bearing the weight of the Alpha King, seemed to fill the room with their intensity. I fought the instinct to shiver under his scrutiny.

Kira muttered, "Well, you've done it now."

Despite being his daughter and having a degree of immunity to his Alpha power, I couldn’t completely escape the gravity of his presence. I steadied myself, determined not to let his gaze unnerve me.

Sighing, I prepared myself for an unproductive conversation. "Yes, Dad?"

"You will follow the rules and allow your bodyguard to do his job," he stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

All the training I’d endured seemed irrelevant in the face of his unyielding stance. He was adamant that I was unprepared for his enemies without the protection of a bodyguard, especially since I wasn’t yet Queen. He clung to his title as if it were the last thread binding him to control, fueling his resolve to impose this unwanted protector on me.

"Fine," I snapped, "but you know I won’t behave." I crossed my arms defiantly, letting my gaze drift out the window to the vast garden outside.

My father’s expression softened, and he sat down beside me on the bed. "Aurelia, this is the last thing I want. We face threats from all sides. I must ensure your safety."

I kept my eyes on the garden, unwilling to show how his words affected me. My desire to retain my dwindling freedom clashed with his insistence on my security.

"I can’t lose you too, Aura." His voice was laced with an emptiness that tugged at my heart.

When I looked at him, I saw the genuine sorrow etched in his face. Since losing my mother a year ago, he had maintained a stoic façade for the world—an unyielding Alpha King committed to his people’s safety. Yet, to me and my late mother, he was more than that. He had feelings, vulnerabilities that were reserved solely for us.

Unable to hold onto my anger any longer, I frowned. "When will he arrive?"

My father’s face brightened with a relieved grin, and I couldn’t help but smile slightly in return. "Tomorrow morning," he said, glancing briefly at his phone. His days were packed with the demands of war and the constant threat of assassinations, leaving him little time for anything else.

"Very well. Will he be staying in my room too?" I asked, smirking.

My father’s cheeks flushed a deep red. "Absolutely not," he stammered. "You’ll move to an adjoining room, and he’ll take the other."

"Good. I’d prefer to see him as little as possible," I said, leaning into his comforting embrace.

"Just do me one favor, Aura. Stay on the grounds today. You can go out tomorrow, but only with your bodyguard. I’ll have the maids come later to move your things." I sighed and nodded, cherishing these fleeting moments alone with him.

As always, these moments were too brief.

"I have to go, Aura," he said with a tired sigh, running his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. The lines of exhaustion on his face were evident, a testament to the toll of losing Mom. They had me when they were both just twenty. I would turn eighteen in a month, making him only thirty-seven.

I wrapped my arms around him tightly, my heart clenching at the thought of losing him too. "Just promise me you’ll be safe."

"I’m not going anywhere anytime soon," he replied with a smirk, his silver eyes twinkling with that familiar spark. "Not with you always getting into trouble."

I scoffed, "I’ll deal with the bodyguard, but behaving is not on my agenda!" I called out as he headed for the door, hearing his deep chuckle receding down the hallway.

After he left, I pulled myself out of bed, quickly dressing in jeans and an off-shoulder blouse. Every glance in the mirror reminded me of my mother. My raven hair cascaded in silky waves, and my curvy figure mirrored hers almost perfectly. The only traits I inherited from my father were his long lashes and his fiery temper.

I grabbed my phone and sent a quick text to my two best friends. Vesper and Ember, daughters of our cleaning staff, were my closest companions. We had grown up together, and their friendship had been my anchor throughout my years as an only child. Though traditionally, the firstborn son would succeed as Alpha or Alpha King, my parents had defied tradition. My father had declared I would be the first Alpha Queen, a groundbreaking decision.

I glanced at my phone as it lit up. Vesper was out of town visiting family, but Ember would be waiting for me in the gardens. I sent a quick response, relieved that we were in the age of modern communication.

Our home, though resembling a castle, was more of an opulent mansion. Surrounded by cities and towns under my father's rule, he commanded the largest kingdom in the world. One day, it would be my turn.

Years of etiquette, training, and history had prepared me, yet following rules remained a struggle—perhaps due to my Alpha blood or my stubborn nature. I often preferred to make my own rules.

Skipping down the main corridor, I dodged maids and cooks, heading for the garden. My favorite spots in the house were the garden and the expansive library. Mom used to get lost in the thousands of books, and whenever she disappeared for too long, Dad and I would sneak off to find her.

To reach the garden, I had to navigate through the bustling kitchen, which was large enough to host grand feasts. I ducked under trays of muffins and pastries, savoring the sweet aroma.

The kitchen was always in a state of organized chaos. Mom had made sure that food from our kitchen reached the less fortunate in town, and Dad continued this tradition after her death, ensuring they received the same quality as us Royals.

As I slipped through the kitchen, I grabbed a warm chocolate chip muffin. Just as I was about to take a bite, I heard a voice.

"Aurelia, drop that muffin!"

I turned to see Ember’s mother, Amara, approaching with a dirty rag as a makeshift weapon. I gave her a sheepish grin before sprinting through the kitchen.

Amara had stepped into the role of a second mother after my own mother’s passing. She and Mom had been close friends, and her loss had hit her hard.

Despite our royal status, my family had never looked down on others. We commanded respect due to our Alpha blood but had never abused it. I knew not all kingdoms were as kind-hearted.

I jogged out onto the patio and breathed in the fresh spring air. It was my favorite season—the garden was alive with blooming flowers, their scents blending into an intoxicating aroma.

Walking down the dirt path to the large gazebo, I spotted Ember’s curly hair and her welcoming smile. Ember was the responsible one in our trio. Vesper and I were the wild ones, and Ember often struggled to keep us in check. Although I was a full Lycan, Vesper and Ember were human. Our kingdom had a mix of humans and Lycans, with a larger Lycan population. Many humans were part-Lycan, but only a few could actually shift.

“Took you long enough,” Ember said with a shake of her head, her chocolate curls bouncing with the movement. Her skin, the color of freshly brewed espresso, made her honey-colored eyes stand out even more.

I shrugged and dropped into one of the chairs in the gazebo. “Dad needed to talk to me.”

“Anything important?” Ember’s eyebrow arched, her golden eyes sharp with curiosity.

I sighed, annoyed by the intensity of her gaze. Ember had a knack for extracting information with just a look—her honey eyes could make even the most guarded secrets spill.

Before I could respond, two servants appeared at the gazebo’s steps, wheeling a cart laden with food and drinks.

“Oh, sorry, I told them you’d be having breakfast here,” Ember said, giving me a sheepish smile.

Being waited on constantly still felt strange to me. I was always met with a mix of respect and trepidation—everyone feared displeasing Dad. If only they could see him as I did.