Alpha's Regret: Marked By The Lycan King

Estelle’s POV

“Real leaders?” I repeated, my voice deadly quiet.

The head servant’s eyes darted to me briefly before returning to Caleb, as if I hadn’t spoken at all.

Caleb’s jaw clenched. His hands balled into fists at his sides. “There seems to be some confusion here. Luna Estelle Harper is the rightful heir and current leader of the Blackmoon Pack. There is no Alpha.”

“But surely—”

“No.” Caleb’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Benedict Harper is not the Blackmoon Pack’s leader. Helena Harper is no longer the Luna. Alpha James Harper named Estelle as his successor before his death.”

The servant’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. His gaze flicked between Caleb and me, clearly struggling to process this information.

“I... I see.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “My apologies for the misunderstanding.”

The apology was hollow. It was clear he didn’t believe a word of what Caleb had said, and he certainly didn’t respect me as the leader of the Blackmoon Pack. Whether that was because the Blackmoon Pack was a werewolf pack and not a lycan one, or it was because I was the leader and not Benedict, I wasn’t too sure.

I watched him with cool detachment. This wasn’t the first time someone had questioned my authority, and it wouldn’t be the last. But the blatant disrespect did make things unpleasant and difficult.

“We’d like to get settled in,” I said evenly.

The head servant nodded stiffly. He gestured to two maids standing nearby. Both women looked to be in their thirties, dressed in identical gray uniforms.

“Sarah will show you to your room.” He pointed to a thin woman with mousy brown hair. “And Margaret will escort Beta Jackson to his accommodations.” 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Caleb frowned. “Why are we being separated?”

“Male and female accommodations are kept separate, as per lycan tradition,” the servant replied matter-of-factly.

Something about his tone made my skin crawl. Not to mention the fact that he refused to meet my eyes.

Caleb looked at me with obvious reluctance. His protective instincts were kicking in, and I could see the worry etched across his features.

“It’s fine,” I assured him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “We can meet for dinner after we’ve settled in.”

He hesitated for a moment longer before nodding. “Alright. Text me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Margaret smiled warmly at Caleb and led him toward a grand staircase that curved upward to what I assumed were the main guest quarters.

Sarah, on the other hand, barely looked at me.

“This way,” she said curtly, turning on her heel.

I followed her through a side door that led away from the main entrance hall. We walked down a series of increasingly narrow corridors. The marble floors gave way to plain stone. The ornate tapestries and paintings disappeared, replaced by bare walls.

My suspicions began to grow with each step we took.

The corridors grew darker as we moved deeper into what felt like the bowels of the palace. The air became stuffier. If I squinted hard enough, I could even spot mold along the corners, along with cobwebs.

“How much further?” I asked.

“Not much,” Sarah replied without looking back.

We turned another corner and stopped in front of a plain wooden door. Sarah produced a key from her apron and unlocked it.

“Here we are,” she said, pushing the door open.

I stepped inside and surveyed the room with careful composure, though internally I was appalled.

The room was small and cramped. A single bed sat against one wall, covered with thin, faded linens. A rickety wooden desk and a matching stool occupied another corner, and a tiny window near the ceiling let in barely any natural light.

This wasn’t a guest room. This was the servant’s quarters. Not to mention, it looked absolutely medieval.

“Is there some mistake?” I asked calmly.

Sarah’s demeanor shifted instantly. The fake politeness vanished, replaced by open hostility.

“Mistake?” She scoffed. “This is what was arranged for you. If you don’t like it, take it up with management.”

Her tone was sharp and rude.

“I see.” I kept my voice level. “And where exactly would I find management?”

“Figure it out yourself,” she snapped before storming out and slamming the door behind her.

I stood in the middle of the dingy room and let out a quiet scoff.

This was clearly deliberate. Someone wanted to send me a message about my place here.

I pulled out my phone and considered texting Zayne. He would sort this out immediately, I was certain of that. But when I opened our chat, I noticed his last seen was still from when he’d sent his previous message.

He was probably busy preparing for tomorrow’s ball or dealing with state business. Many important guests were coming to attend the ball, and even though the lycans were significantly more powerful in both strength and social stature, it didn’t mean that he didn’t need to at least maintain some relations.

Either way, he was likely preoccupied with other important things that didn’t include my accommodation complaints.

I decided against bothering him for now and instead texted Caleb.

[Can you meet me at the entrance of the main hall? Need to discuss something.]

His reply came immediately.

[Of course. Is everything okay?]

[I’ll tell you when I see you.]

I didn’t bother unpacking, not that I brought much in the first place. I carried my small duffel bag with me and turned right out of the room, not caring to lock the door behind me.

I was about to close the messaging app when a new notification popped up.

My heart did that annoying skip again when I saw Zayne’s name on my screen. Turns out, he wasn’t as busy as I thought he would be.

[Have you arrived at the palace yet?]

Strangely enough, seeing his message made me frown in mild annoyance.