CHAPTER 2: THE BIRTH OF A QUEEN 

~IVY~

I don’t know how far I crawled. I just needed to keep moving else i die. My knees were cut open,my fingers bled,My breath stung the inside of my throat. I felt it pressing against my spine, death, patiently waiting. I fell into a ditch filled with mud and rocks. My shoulder slammed against stone. Something cracked.

I screamed, not out loud but inside. The kind of scream no one hears or ever saves.

I pulled myself up, dragging one leg behind me. My ribs stabbed with every breath. My mouth tasted like metal. I wiped it the blood away with the back of my sleeve, but more came.

I didn’t even cry.

There was nothing left for tears.

They’d beaten it out of me.

Killian had ripped out what was left of my heart in front of the pack, and they let him.

They didn’t stop him.

They didn’t even blink.

I was the runt.

The mistake.

The cursed mate.

But I was still alive.

Barely.

The forest was getting darker and scarier but I cared less, I dragged myself toward a tall rock splitting a tree, gripping the edge with shaky hands.

If I could get higher, I’d be harder to find.

If I died, at least it wouldn’t be under their boots.

I climbed slowly, one breath at a time. Each movement was filled with extreme pain but I made it to the top and collapsed with face in the dirt and breathing like an animal. Suddenly, something moved within me, it wasn't pain, fear, it was cold and old. A sound like whispering cracked through the silence.

Not from outside.

From under my skin.

Words I didn’t understand.

But I felt them.

You are not broken.

I sat up slowly, my hands glowing faint silver. I stared at my palms, the bruises were still there filled with blood and dirt. But something shined under the skin, I wasn't cold anymore, I was burning from within.

Something in me had opened.

Something I didn’t know I had.

I stood up shaking

I looked back at the trail I’d crawled.

No one followed.

They thought I was dead.

Good.

Let them.

Let them bury the girl they beat.

The runt.

The reject.

Let them forget her.

Because whoever I was before—

She ended in the dirt.

And the girl standing here now?

She wasn’t going to be quiet anymore.

The wind carried the scent of firewood and old leather.

I didn’t smell blood anymore.

That was how I knew I’d passed the border.

Not Bloodfang land.

Not anymore.

I walked like every step mattered. Because it did.

My legs still trembled, and the cuts hadn’t stopped bleeding, but I kept going. The cold had softened. The trees thinned. The world had gone quieter, as if something was watching me from the shadows and waiting.

I should’ve been afraid but I wasn't, not after what I’d survived. I stepped into a clearing and stopped.

There was a man sitting by the fire. He didn’t move when he saw me or grab a weapon.

He just looked up and stared like he’d been expecting me all along.

He had dark hair that curled at the edges, broad shoulders and hands that looked like they’d broken more bones than they’d held hearts.

But it was his eyes that held me.

Amber.

Sharp.

And steady.

They didn’t flinch at the sight of my blood or my torn clothes.

They didn’t pity me.

They saw me.

I didn’t speak.

Neither did he.

Not until I got too close to ignore.

“Sit,” he said.

Not a request, A command but softer than I expected.

I dropped down slowly, wincing. The heat from the fire soaked into my frozen bones. My body shook.

Still, he didn’t ask who I was.

He handed me a flask.

“Drink.”

I stared at it.

“I’m not here to poison you,” he added.

“You could’ve fooled me.”

He smiled just a little.

“You got a name?” “I'm Ivy.”

“I know.”

I froze.

He leaned forward.

“You don’t smell like them anymore.”

“Bloodfang?”

He nodded. “Or Black Moon.”

I held the flask tighter. “That’s because I’m nothing now.”

He watched me.

“No,” he said. “You’re free.”

I looked at him. “Who are you?”

“Ronan Devereaux.”

The name hit like thunder behind my ribs. The rogue king, the warborn. The wolf without a pack, without a chain, without a master.

He used to command an army.

Now he sat alone with a fire and a blade at his side that glowed faintly in the dark.

“I’ve heard of you,” I said.

“Everyone has.”

“What do you want from me?”

His eyes never left mine.

“To see what you’ll become.”

I became solid. “Why me?”

“Because they tried to kill you. And you lived.”

I laughed.

It sounded wrong in my mouth.

“They all hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t even know me.” I said.

“I don’t have to.”

He stood slowly, towering over the flames.

“You survived a rejection. You bled. And you kept going.”

“So?”

“So maybe it’s time someone teaches you how to fight back.” He said

I stared at him. My heart beat slower and stronger now.

“I don’t need a savior,” I said.

“Good,” he replied. “I’m not offering to be one.”

“What are you offering?” I asked him.

He stepped around the fire and stood in front of me.

Close enough to see the scar on his jaw and the storm behind his eyes.

“Power,” he said.

“And what do I have to give in return?”

He bent his head. “Everything you were before.”

My hands curled around the flask tight.

The wind picked up.

And I felt it again, that whisper in my blood, that cold beneath my skin, that call I didn’t understand.

“Okay,” I said.

He nodded once.

“Then get up.”

I did slowly.

He took a step back.

And threw a blade at my feet.

“First lesson,” he said, voice low.

“Learn how to stop bleeding.”

The blade was heavier than I thought.

It stuck in the dirt, I reached for it with both hands, my fingers sore and wrapped in dried blood. It slid out smooth, and for a moment, I felt something shift in my palm like the blade recognized me.

Ronan circled me slowly.

“No wide swings,” he said. “You’re not here to dance.”

“I’ve never held a weapon.” I said

“I know.”

“Then what do you expect?” I shot back cause I felt like he was mocking me

“Less talking. More moving.”

I tightened my grip.

He stepped back and tried to attack me, I barely dodged in time

The blade in my hand fell. I stumbled, caught my footing just before falling into the snow.

“Again,” he barked.

“I just…”

“Again.”

I rushed at him clumsily and off balance.

He stepped sideways, knocked the blade from my hand with a touch of his wrist, and tapped my side with the blunt of his weapon.

“You’d be dead.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re not thinking.”

He stepped in front of me.

“Do you want revenge?”

I stared at him. “Yes.”

“Do you want to be feared?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop swinging like you’re asking for permission.”

He shoved the blade back into my hand.

“Try again.”

I came at him harder this time, Faster than he expected. The steel clashed and sparks cold air between us.

He blocked and never struck back.

“You’re angry,” he said, circling again. “Good. Use it.”

“I am.” I responded

“No, you’re leaking it.”

He stepped in, so close.

I panicked.

The shadows slipped out from under my sleeves. They were fast. They wrapped around his wrist before I even knew I’d called them.

He froze.

I froze.

My heart sank.

“I….” I stammered.

He pulled his hand free and looked at me slowly and calm.

“That’s what I want.” He said

I dropped the blade.

The shadows vanished.

“I didn’t mean to….”

“Yes, you did.”

I swallowed hard. “It felt…”

“Right?”

“Too right.”

He didn’t smile or speak, he walked to me slowly, then dropped low to my level so we were eye to eye

“Your wolf is coming.”

I shook my head. “I don’t have one.”

He touched the center of my chest.

“You do,” he said quietly. “She’s just waking late.”

“And the shadows?”

“Something older.”

“Darker?”

He paused.

“Not evil. Not yet.”

I stepped back.

Wrapped my arms around myself.

“I don’t want to be a monster.”

“Then you’ll have to learn control.”

I looked at the blade and at my hands, I saw a faint outline of a mark on my wrist that hadn't been there before, not a scare or ink. It was something else. A sigil, it was silver, glowing faintly. Ronan saw it too but didn't speak or need to cause I already knew what it meant something inside me had changed and it wasn't done.

~RONAN ~

She was getting stronger but it wasn’t her strikes that told me that, it was the silence afterward. I watched her from the edge of the clearing. The fire had burned low. The sword rested on her knees. Her shoulders had stopped shaking. She hadn’t asked for a break in over an hour.

I’d trained warriors, I’d led men into blood soaked wars, I’d seen gods die. But I hadn’t seen someone like Ivy.

Not in a long time.

She moved like someone who’d never been taught how to stand. But she fought like someone who never planned to fall again.

She wasn’t just learning to hold a blade.

She was learning to wear it.

I stepped out of the shadow and walked toward her. She didn’t look up. Just kept her eyes on the flames, as if they’d give her the answers she wanted.

“Your grip’s better,” I said.

She didn’t answer.

“I see less fear in your shoulders.”

Still nothing.

But she shifted slightly, just enough to show she’d heard.

I sat beside her quietly.

The way she liked it.

Her knuckles were raw. Her arms bruised. Her cheek still wore the ghost of the pack’s hatred like a memory etched into skin.

But her eyes… they burned.

“You hate him,” I said.

She blinked once.

“Killian.”

Her fingers tightened on the hilt.

“It’s more than hate.”

“I know.”

She turned to me slowly.

“I wanted him to see me. Just once.”

“He did.”

“Not like this, but in power ”

I nodded. “He will.”

Her mouth pressed into a line. “I don’t want to be a symbol. I don’t want to be a prophecy.”

“Then don’t.”

She looked at me, disturbed, her eyes questioning.

“You said I have a wolf.”

“You do.”

“She’s quiet.”

“She’s listening.”

“To what?”

“To the part of you that’s ready to stop surviving and start living.”

She didn’t speak or argue. I leaned back against a tree.

“You’re not just learning to fight,” I said. “You’re choosing who to be.”

“I don’t know who that is yet.”

“You will.”

She fell quiet again.

The fire popped.

A breeze stirred the edge of her hair.

And then her voice, barely above a whisper

“What if I’m not meant to be saved?”

I looked at her.

“You’re not.”

She moved back in shock.

“You’re meant to rise,” I said. “Saving was never the point.”

She nodded once and stood without a word, she picked up the blade and walked back to the center of the clearing.

Ready to try again.

The nights were the worst.

That’s when the quiet came.

Not peace or silence. Just the kind of stillness that made you hear everything you’ve been trying to forget.

I sat alone after she went to sleep, sharpening my blade beside the fire like it was a habit I couldn't break. Maybe it was.

The stars were shining bright in the sky but it didn't excite me anymore. Same stars I used to sleep under before I buried my name and walked away from the crown they tried to force on me.

Back then, I believed in the old laws. Pack first. Loyalty above all. A mate bond was sacred. Power was passed down through blood, not worth.

And then they killed my brother.

My own pack.

Because he challenged the wrong Alpha.

Because he believed strength wasn’t measured by how many necks you broke.

I watched him bleed out on snow.

I watched my father do nothing.

I buried them both the next day.

One in the ground.

One in my chest.

I left after that.

Took nothing but my blade and the scar he gave me.

They called me rogue, an outlaw, monster but I let them. Better as a monster with his own name than a king wearing someone else’s. I never looked back until now when ivy came, she reminded me of him.

Not in the way she moved, she was still learning that.

But in the way she refused to die.

Even when everyone wanted her gone.

Even when the world made her small.

She kept going.

And that’s more dangerous than strength.

That’s real power.

I saw it in her eyes when she touched the blade today. She didn’t want to be saved,she wanted to become something they couldn’t break.

Something they couldn’t ignore.

I looked over at her sleeping by the embers, curled beneath a worn blanket, one hand curled around the hilt of her training sword like she didn’t trust the world to wait until morning.

Smart girl.

The mark on her wrist breathed faintly in the dark.

She didn’t see it yet. What she was and could become, but I did. And the truth was, I didn't just want to her rise, I needed her to. Because the war wasn't coming, it was already her.