“You never said anything.” The accusation came out harsher than intended.
“I had no idea she was your mother. Not until...” He gestured helplessly. “Your father kept that secret perfectly. We all knew she’d died in childbirth, but the child was supposedly stillborn. Then you appeared, Lucinda’s ‘premature’ baby, and none of us questioned it.”
“Tell me about her.” The request emerged before I could stop it. Thirty years of not knowing, and suddenly I was desperate for any scrap of information.
Magnus shifted Serena gently, his eyes distant with recall. “She had your eyes. That same intensity, that way of seeing through pretense to truth. She laughed easily, but fought fiercely for her patients. The omegas especially, she’d argue with senior healers about their treatment, demand equal resources.”
“Like Rhea,” I murmured.
“Very much like Rhea.” He smiled sadly. “Perhaps that’s why fate brought you together. Serena would have loved her, would have been so proud of the changes you’re making. She used to say that strength wasn’t about designation but about spirit.”
“Did my father love her?” The question that had haunted me since Lucinda’s revelation.
“With everything he had.” Magnus’s answer was immediate, certain. “I saw them together once, before anyone knew. The way he looked at her... I’d never seen our Lycan King so vulnerable, so complete. When she died, something in him died too. He functioned, ruled, did his duty. But the light was gone.”
“And you never suspected I was hers?”
“The timing was perfect. You were presented as early, Laziel as on schedule. Lucinda played the devoted mother to both sons. Why would anyone question it?” He touched my daughter’s tiny fist. “But looking back, there were signs. How your father would stare at you sometimes. How he’d push those omega protection laws with personal passion. How Lucinda’s warmth toward you always seemed... performed.”
“All those years of feeling like I didn’t belong.” The pain of it washed fresh. “Of sensing something wrong but not knowing what.”
“You belonged,” Magnus said firmly. “You were wanted desperately by parents who loved you. One who died bringing you here, one who spent the rest of his life trying to honor her memory through you. Don’t let Lucinda’s poison taint that truth.”
He carefully transferred Serena back to Rhea, then surprised me by pulling me into an embrace. Not the formal greeting of the spokesperson to a king, but the hug of a father to a son who’d lost too much.
“She would be so proud,” he whispered against my ear. “Serena would look at what you’ve become, at these beautiful children, atthe world you’re building, and she would be so very proud of her son.”
I broke then, tears I’d been holding since Lucinda’s death finally falling. For the mother I’d never known. For the father who’d loved us both but couldn’t save either of us from Lucinda’s hatred. For the family that might have been.
“Thank you,” I managed when I could speak again. “For telling me. For remembering her.”
“She deserves to be remembered properly.” Magnus pulled back, wiping his own eyes. “As do all those we’ve lost to prejudice and hatred. That’s why what the council has decided matters so much. It’s not just about Rhea, though she’s more than earned it. It’s about ensuring no more Serenas die in shadow. No more children grow up denied their truth.”
He straightened his robes, composing himself. “Now, shall we make history? Your children deserve to see their mother crowned as the queen she’s always been.”
“Magnus,” I called as he reached the door. “Will you tell me more? About Serena? When there’s time?”
“Every story I have,” he promised. “She lives on in you, in these babies. The least I can do is make sure you know who she really was.”
As he left to prepare for the ceremony, I looked at my family. Rhea, exhausted but radiant. Our twins, miracles that shouldn’t exist. We’d built something beautiful from the ashes of lies and loss.
“She would have loved you,” I told Rhea. “Magnus is right. You’re so much alike.”
“Then I’m honored to name our daughter for her.” Rhea touched Serena’s sleeping face. “She’ll know her grandmother’s story. The real one, not Lucinda’s version.”
“They both will. No more secrets, no more lies.”
“Just love,” Rhea agreed. “The greatest power of all.”
The door opened again, medical staff returning to prepare us for transport to the ceremony. But for just a moment longer, I held my family close, feeling the presence of those we’d lost blessing those who remained.
Serena’s sacrifice hadn’t been in vain. Her son lived, loved, and would build the world she’d dreamed of. And now her granddaughter would carry her name into a future where omega and alpha stood as equals.
It was enough. It was everything.
— • —
Epilogue
