Reborn for Revenge: Find her Fated Alpha-Chapter 167: Crowning Ceremony

The arrangements for the ceremony were beautiful.

Sunlight poured over the beautiful golden and bold decorations, lighting up the sea of wolves below. Every Alpha and Beta from every known pack stood in attendance, clothed in their finest armor and ceremonial robes. They had come from mountains, from forests, from cities guarded by blood and fang—all to witness Cyrus ascend as the Alpha King.

The roar of the crowd rose like thunder as Cyrus stepped forward, a royal chain that once belonged to his father glittering against his chest.

He looked cold and unyielding, like a beast ready to ascend the throne, but Amelia knew better.

She knew the man who held her hand beneath cold blankets, whose lips whispered promises in the dark. The one who washed her blood from his hands and never spoke of it again.

However, her smile turned sad as the stark realization of where he stood and where she stood dawned upon her.

Her place was carefully chosen—close, but not too close.

Not enough to cause suspicion.

Not enough to give away the truth.

Because no one here knew she was his legal wife.

The howls quieted as Cyrus raised his hand once Grayson placed the crown on his head, making everyone erupt in celebration.

His voice cut through the air like steel. "Today, I accept the crown as Alpha King. And as the law commands, I must announce the beginning of the Queen trials to choose a queen worthy of standing beside me."

The crowd leaned in, expectant.

Amelia’s heart skipped a beat before pounding in her chest

The air stilled. Even the birds seemed to stop flying.

Amelia looked up at him. For a brief moment, their eyes met.

This wasn’t just tradition. It was politics. It was survival. Choosing a mate from outside the noble bloodlines was a gamble Cyrus could only justify with one thing—Amelia proving she deserved it.

And if she failed?

She would lose the title. Her influence. Possibly her life.

Her fingers curled into her palms as the trial’s official horn rang out.

"The Queen’s Trial," the steward announced, "will begin at sunrise. All eligible female Alphas, warriors, and noble-born she-wolves may enter."

The gates opened.

They began to file in.

Dozens of women—some familiar, others strangers—walked onto the arena floor with sharp eyes and confident strides.

Amelia recognized some as Alpha daughters, and some even attended the university where she was studying. There were trained fighters. Political threats. Others looked lean and dangerous in the way that wolves on the edge of desperation always were.

As Amelia was going over the face of every female she would be fighting against, her world suddenly came to a halt when she noticed a face that was too familiar.

It was her.

There, dressed in a deep navy cloak with armor that glinted like ice, stood Hannah.

Amelia couldn’t move.

Hannah.

The past surged up like cold water.

Her sister was here. She had been quiet for too long, not stirring any trouble.

Amelia smiled inwardly. She should’ve known. The woman would never let her live happily. First, it was Alpha Killian, and now that she was finally seeking happiness with King Cyrus, she was here to steal that away too.

She had really thought she hated the royal wolves, but now she stood among the candidates, her lips curled in a knowing smirk, her eyes burning with challenge.

One thing was clear to Amelia. For Hannah, nothing mattered more than putting her down.

Cyrus’s eyes, which had locked on Amelia’s quite a few times, furrowed when he saw her looking elsewhere.

He followed her line of sight and saw the woman standing there, whom she referred to as her sister.

His lips thinned as he suppressed the urge to throw that venomous woman who had once tried to poison his wife out of the estate. But she was here through a selection process, and he couldn’t deny it, not until the ceremony was over.

Cyrus descended the stage in powerful steps, his dominating aura making many cower in fear. As he passed by her, he leaned closer to her, just enough that only she could hear him. "She won’t win."

Amelia finally tore her gaze away. "She’s not here to win. She’s here to ruin me."

A smile appeared on her lips as she remembered her interaction with her father that she was yet to tell Cyrus about.

Last evening when she returned to the Grand Palace, she wanted to share the news with him, but when Miss Quinn mentioned how happy he was, she couldn’t bring herself to dim his light.

As part of the process, all the girls looked at each other with a slight nod before leaving for the place where all of them were supposed to stay.

Later, back inside the stone briefing hall beneath the arena, Amelia stood before a detailed map of the Queen’s Trial.

As she was busy, she received a message from Ryan, and she licked her bottom lips nervously, knowing what the message was going to be all about.

However, to her surprise, the message didn’t contain any queries or accusations. It was a simple statement that made her heart fill with warmth.

"All the best."

Amelia replied with a quick thank-you before looking at the map again with a sigh.

Cyrus and Grayson met her in the hallway, both silent as they studied the terrain, the obstacles, the rules.

The three trials awaited: Strength, Strategy, and Loyalty. Win all three, and the crown was hers. Lose any... and someone else would take her place.

"No one expected her to enter," Cyrus said, tension laced through every word. "She has no known bans, no disqualifying offenses. She passed the strength assessment."

"I don’t doubt that. She would pass by crawling through the dirt if it meant reaching me to ruin me. That’s how she has always been." Amelia snapped.

"She won’t harm you like that anymore. Not when I am on watch," Grayson said gently.

Amelia looked at him, her throat tight. "She might be my future if I fail."

Silence settled around them.

"She’ll wait for the moment I slip up," she said. "It won’t be in strength. Not in Strategy either. It’ll be in Loyalty. That’s where she’ll strike. Where I won’t see it coming."

Cyrus stepped toward her, voice low and sure. "Then don’t give her the chance. Show them who you are. Show them what I already know."

She nodded. But her stomach churned anyway.

That night, under a moon that watched like a silent judge, the candidates were escorted into isolated chambers beneath the arena—one for each woman, no contact allowed.

Amelia walked quietly, her boots echoing against the stone floor.

She didn’t feel strong at the moment. She didn’t feel brave. Even when she knew about the powers swirling inside her, she felt powerless because she felt alone.

As she reached her door, she felt the flicker of eyes on her and turned.

Hannah stood there, leaning against her doorway, arms folded, that same smirk still lingering on her mouth.

"Well, well," Hannah drawled. "Never thought I’d see you walk willingly into a cage. You have started to like it here, haven’t you?"

Amelia didn’t respond.

Hannah pushed off the wall, sauntering deliberately toward her. "You really think you’re going to win this? That he’s going to crown a secret wife no one’s heard of over Alpha daughters born for the throne?"

Amelia kept her face unreadable. "I am sure your father broke the news to you. I don’t need to be born for the throne. I’ve bled for it."

Hannah leaned in. "Then get ready to bleed again."

Amelia met her eyes. "Just don’t be surprised when it’s your blood this time."

They stared at each other for a long moment.

The door slammed shut behind Amelia, the final sound before silence swallowed the night.

Tomorrow, it will begin.

And only one of them would walk away with the crown.