Bound by Blood and Fate

Celine's breath came in short, shallow gasps. The throne room suddenly felt smaller, the walls closing in as the king's words echoed in her ears.

Proof… They had proof.

Her hands clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run, to bolt from this suffocating place and never look back. But she couldn't move. She could only stare at the king and queen, their unreadable gazes pinning her in place.

A door at the side of the hall opened, and an elderly man in flowing robes stepped forward. His silver hair was neatly combed back, his sharp eyes glinting behind thin spectacles.

"This is Lord Edric, the royal advisor," the queen said, her voice steady.

Celine barely spared him a glance. Her heart was still hammering in her chest, her mind desperate to refute everything that had just been said.

Lord Edric bowed slightly before speaking. "We have long sought our lost princess, Your Highness, and after years of searching, we finally found you." His voice was calm, assured, as if this was nothing more than a lesson being taught to a child. "If you require proof, then let us provide it."

He extended his hand, and a servant hurried forward, carrying a silver goblet filled with a deep crimson liquid.

Celine's stomach twisted. "What is that?"

"A bloodline verification elixir," Edric explained. "A few drops of your blood mixed with this potion will confirm your lineage."

Celine's mouth went dry. 'Blood magic.' She had heard whispers of it in Ravenshire, though it had always been described as something sacred… and dangerous.

The king's gaze never wavered. "You will take the test now."

Celine almost laughed at the command in his tone. It was the same voice the villagers used when ordering a servant to bring them ale. As if she had no choice in the matter.

And maybe… she didn't.

She could feel every eye in the room locked on her. The guards. The advisors. The servants who had stopped pretending not to eavesdrop. No matter how much she wanted to scream that this was a mistake, something in her gut told her that this moment… this test… would decide everything.

Her fate had been taken from her once before. Was she really going to let others dictate it again?

Before she could talk herself out of it, she stepped forward, holding out her hand. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

Lord Edric gave a small nod before pulling out a ceremonial dagger, its blade gleaming under the golden light. Without hesitation, he made a shallow cut along her palm.

Celine inhaled sharply at the sting, watching as a single drop of blood welled up before falling into the goblet.

The reaction was immediate.

The moment her blood touched the liquid, the entire goblet glowed. A pulse of golden light spread outward, illuminating the throne room. Gasps rippled through the gathered nobles.

Celine froze.

No. No, no, no. This wasn't supposed to happen.

The light faded, but the room remained heavy with silence. Even without anyone saying a word, she knew.

She knew.

She was really the lost princess.

Her throat tightened as she looked up, locking eyes with the queen.

There was something there now, something Celine had never seen in her before… Was it relief? Hope? A mother's longing?

It didn't matter.

It couldn't matter.

Because the next words spoken shattered any illusion that this was a joyful reunion.

The king leaned forward. "Now that your identity is confirmed, we can proceed with the reason for your return."

Celine blinked, still reeling from the blood test. "What?"

"You are to be wed," he continued, his tone cool and matter-of-fact. "To the Lycan King, Damian Blackwood."

The words slammed into her harder than the revelation of her birth.

Her blood ran cold.

…

The queen spoke this time, her voice gentler but just as firm. "This is not a decision made lightly, Celine. The union between our kingdom and the Lycans has long been…"

"I don't care what it has been," Celine cut in, her voice rising. "You're telling me that you brought me here, not because I'm your daughter, but because you need me to marry some stranger?"

A muscle ticked in the king's jaw. "He is not just some stranger. He a king to be."

The room spun.

Lycans and werewolves had different traditions, but one thing had always remained the same, fated mates. A bond stronger than any other, something unbreakable… something sacred.

She had always thought the concept was ridiculous.

And now they were telling her she was bound to him?

Celine let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. "No. No, this is insane. I'm not marrying anyone, let alone a Lycan King I've never even met."

The king's eyes darkened. "You will."

Her hands clenched into fists. "And what if I refuse?"

The king exhaled slowly, as if speaking to a stubborn child. "Then our kingdom will suffer the consequences."

The weight of those words settled heavily on her chest.

She barely understood politics, but even she knew what this meant. A peace treaty. A strategic marriage. If she refused, the alliance between their kingdoms would crumble. War could break out. People could die.

She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to remain steady. "You expect me to just… sacrifice my life for this?"

The queen's gaze softened. "I know this is sudden, but…"

"No. No. You don't get to act like this is normal. I just found out that my entire life was a lie, and now you're throwing me into another one?"

....

The answer was clear.

Celine's breathing quickened. "You don't care about me. You care about what I can do for you. About how useful I am to your plans."

The king didn't deny it.

Celine let out a bitter laugh, her chest tight with something between rage and despair. She had always known she wasn't truly wanted by the Smiths… but she had let herself hope that maybe, just maybe this would be different.

It wasn't.

The doors at the far end of the throne room creaked open.

Celine barely paid attention at first, too wrapped up in her own thoughts. But then… a strange feeling crept over her.

A shiver down her spine. A pull in her chest, deep and unfamiliar.

And then she saw him.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark-haired young man

His presence alone seemed to consume the air around him. He walked with the kind of controlled power that didn't need to be announced it was simply known.

His golden eyes met hers across the throne room, unreadable… but something flickered in them. Something sharp.

Recognition.

The pull in her chest tightened into something painful.

Her fate was sealed.