### CHAPTER ONE Anna's POV “Those fools! How dare they summon me on a day as chaotic as this?” My thoughts churned with indignation as I sat in the back seat of my car, the low hum of the engine doing little to soothe my rising fury. I could already imagine the consequences for this impudent interruption. They would pay dearly for disturbing me. As we arrived at the wolf dome, my presence was heralded with a dramatic flair. “Her Royal Majesty, Queen Anna, has arrived!” rang out the announcement, echoing off the stone walls as I made my entrance. “Your Majesty,” the council of elders intoned in unison, their voices trembling slightly at the weight of my gaze. “Now, what pressing matter requires my attention this time?” I snapped, my temper flaring like fire at the edges of a forest, my icy demeanor sending a shiver through the assembly. “I trust there’s a good reason behind this summons. It better not be trivial.” One of the elders, his voice a hollow whisper, spoke up reluctantly, “Your Majesty, it pertains to your birthday this Saturday.” His words hung in the air, momentarily piquing my interest. “Oh? And what of it?” I leaned forward, my keen eyes narrowing in suspicion. Inside, a whispered promise of retaliation simmered, should their news disappoint me. “Your Majesty,” he continued, brave yet quivering in my towering presence, “this Saturday brings the blood moon, a celestial event of great significance. Many among the people grow concerned about your mateless bond… there are whispers… doubts about whether you are—” “How long have I ruled this kingdom?” I cut him off, unleashing my ferocious energy upon him like a storm. “Thirteen years, Your Majesty.” The elder trembled, eyes wide with fear. “Thirteen years! And have I ever received a complaint regarding my capability to lead?” My voice surged, sharp as a blade. “N-no, my Queen,” he stammered, sweat glistening on his brow. “Very well. Let’s redirect this conversation to my birthday preparations,” I commanded with a dismissive wave, closing my eyes for a moment, allowing myself a smirk. ‘Thirteen years of unbroken rule, and still, I am denied the bond promised to me by the moon goddess. On each blood moon, I sought her counsel, yet never did her voice answer my calls. Resigned, I buried my hopes beneath my crown.’ Though the yearning for connection tugged at my heart, I had learned to withstand the pangs of loneliness. The truth was painful—the royal bloodline demanded mates, yet I had banished the concept from my mind. I held experiments with relationships within the hallowed walls of my pack mansion, imposing dire consequences for any infraction against my rule. “I trust you will not disappoint me on my birthday,” I warned, leaving the wolf dome with the same air of dominance that marked my arrival. “Take me back to the mansion.” I instructed my driver to cancel any further engagements for the day. The ache of solitude gnawed at me. My grandmother had six mates, each bestowing upon her a legacy that endured through generations. But I— I was destined to navigate this oppressive throne alone. I had entered my fifteenth year with the expectation of finding my mate, a bond crafted by the moon goddess herself. That expectation had crumbled into nothingness, leaving only the bitter remnants of failure. My mother’s fierce words echoed in my mind, blaming my vanity for the lost chance at love, and she had refused to acknowledge me as her daughter ever since, relegating me to the gilded cage of leadership alone after her untimely death. The war-torn loss of my mother left my father in despair, ultimately leading him to take his own life, casting me into the cruel abyss of rulership. While other girls my age reveled in youthful pursuits, I sharpened my skills for battle, preparing for conflicts while isolation crept in like a relentless shadow. Friendship became a fading echo, and as I grew into the role of queen, I was trained fiercely by my grandmother’s relentless spirit. By the time I reached eighteen, I was blessed—or cursed—with seven advisors who would guide me through the labyrinth of leadership. “Daniel!” I called, flinging my arms around him, exhilaration coursing through me. He chuckled, warmth radiating from him—a brief sanctuary from my troubles. ‘He always smells divine,’ I mused, battling my innate yearning rooted in my mateless condition. “Finished for the day?” he asked playfully, lifting me effortlessly from the ground. Daniel, my first advisor, appeared older and wiser, just four years my senior, and he wholly captivated me. We shared an intimacy that made my pulse quicken, but each time I broached the subject of marriage, my heart shattered anew as he gently declined. “Daniel, when will you finally choose to marry me?” I teased, leaning in to gauge his reaction. “When you’re older,” he smiled, an unwavering calm in his gaze, illuminating my irritation. “What? Do I look like a child?” My indignation bubbled forth, and I aimed a playful kick, only to be yanked back moments later. “Easy there, my Queen. Anger isn’t suitable for one of your station,” he said with a chuckle. “Let go of me, you flirt!” I squirmed, frustration mounting as Alex, my fourth advisor, swept me up in playful banter. “Payback seems to be my specialty,” I gritted, delivering a quick kick to his groin, eliciting a yelp of pain. “Ah, dear Queen, we are kindred spirits in this dance of flirtation!” he lamented, laughter punctuating his words even beneath my assault. “‘Flirt’ is for birds, you dolt!” I retorted grumpily, striding away from their playful jests. Blinded by fury, I collided headfirst into a wall—one that had long vexed me. “Blindness should be on your side, Rydel!” I snapped at my third advisor, my irritation boiling over. “Mayhap you should look in the mirror, witch,” he shot back, earning my ire once again. Rydel, the only adviser brave enough to ignore my authority, thrived on this exhilarating dance of rebellion. His reckless nature both infuriated and entertained me. “Out of my path, you nuisance!” I pushed past him, climbing up the staircase with urgency. Ascending further, a radiant light broke through the shadows, illuminating the stairway like a beacon. Sullivan stood there, the sunlight reflecting off his features in a way that quickened my heart. ‘He is ethereal, a manifestation of beauty that could rival the dawn,’ I thought while captivated by his presence. “Welcome home, my Queen. How was your day at the office? Shall I escort you to your chamber?” His voice, mellifluous and gentle, enveloped me like a warm embrace. “Yes, please,” I replied, placing my hand atop his, allowing him to guide me. Sullivan, a beta in one of the packs under my rule, seemed to carry the grace of a knight with a heart so pure it could shine in the darkest times. His kindness was disarming, threatening to unravel my carefully knitted armor. Suddenly, a growl escaped my lips, fierce and protective. “Don’t you dare use your charms on me, brute!” I yelled, though laughter danced in his blue eyes, a haunting echo of delight. These men, my advisors and loyal confidants, were my sanctuary in a world thick with shadows—yet I remained forever haunted by the specter of companionship, and the truth that their hearts belonged elsewhere would taunt me relentlessly. Would I ever break free from this curse of solitude, or was I destined to remain forever ensnared by my own ruthless ambitions?