I stumbled away from the rooftop venue, my vision blurred by tears and humiliation. The crowd's whispers followed me like a pack of hungry wolves, feeding on my shame. Three years of love reduced to nothing. Three years of hiding who I really was, only to be rejected for being exactly what I'd pretended to be.

My feet carried me blindly through the glittering streets of Beverly Hills until I found myself in a narrow alleyway, hidden from the main thoroughfare. The moonlight filtered between tall buildings, casting long shadows across the concrete. My chest heaved with sobs I could no longer contain.

"That's for trying to steal what belongs to a real she-wolf."

Aura's words echoed in my mind, each syllable a fresh wound. The sting of her slap still burned across my cheek.

"Get out of here," I whispered to myself, pressing my back against the cool brick wall. "Just disappear."

But something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Heat flooded my veins, turning my blood to molten lava. My bones began to ache, then crack. I slid down the wall, collapsing onto the dirty pavement.

"What's happening?" I gasped, clutching at my chest as the pain intensified.

*Let go, Skylar. Stop fighting it.*

The voice was clearer now, stronger. My wolf—the part of me I'd suppressed for three years—was forcing her way to the surface.

"No," I whimpered, though the denial was half-hearted. "It's too late."

*It's never too late to be who you truly are.*

The pain exploded into white-hot agony. I screamed as my spine arched unnaturally. My skin rippled and stretched, bones breaking and reforming with sickening cracks. I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood, trying to stay conscious through the transformation.

Three years of suppression had made my first shift excruciating. The mental walls I'd built crumbled one by one as my wolf clawed her way free.

"Stop fighting it," I gasped, surrendering to the inevitable. "Just... let it happen."

The change took me in waves of agony and ecstasy. Fur erupted across my skin, golden-brown and thicker than I'd imagined. My face elongated into a muzzle, teeth sharpening into deadly points. Claws tore from my fingertips, digging into the concrete beneath me.

When the transformation finally completed, I stood on four legs, my senses sharper than I'd ever experienced. Scents bombarded me—garbage, exhaust, perfume lingering on the wind from passersby. Sounds came from blocks away: conversations, music, the hum of electricity in wires overhead.

I caught my reflection in a discarded piece of metal. My wolf was massive, easily twice the size of an ordinary werewolf, with vibrant golden eyes that blazed with fury. Three years of disrespect, of hiding, of enduring Sterling's gradual coldness—it all burned in those eyes.

"We are Alpha," my wolf growled in my mind. "We are Kennedy."

---

The apartment felt smaller when I returned, my human form restored but fundamentally changed. Power thrummed beneath my skin—raw, untamed Alpha energy that I'd suppressed for too long.

I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes still held a hint of gold, and my posture had shifted subtly. Shoulders straighter, chin higher. The weakness I'd cultivated was gone.

"I can't do this anymore," I whispered to my reflection. "I won't."

The entertainment industry pack system was toxic. Sterling was worthless. And Aura—Aura was a fraud who'd stolen everything from me.

I pulled out my phone, fingers trembling as I activated the long-distance mind-link that connected me to my father. Three years of silence stretched between us.

"Dad," I whispered into the link, my voice breaking.

The response was immediate, his presence flooding my mind with warmth and authority.

"Skylar?" Alpha Morgan's voice rumbled through the connection. "My daughter?"

"I'm sorry," I sobbed, the words pouring out. "I should have listened. I should have come home."

"Tell me what happened." His tone was gentle but carried an undercurrent of growing anger.

I told him everything—Sterling's betrayal, Aura's identity theft, the public humiliation and rejection. With each word, I felt my father's fury building like a gathering storm.

"And he rejected you as his mate?" Alpha Morgan's voice was dangerously soft.

"Yes," I whispered. "In front of everyone."

A growl rumbled through the mind-link, so powerful I felt the apartment walls vibrate. The glass in the windows trembled.

"He will pay for this," my father promised, his Alpha tone making my knees weak even through the link. "All of them will pay."

"I want to come home," I said, though part of me knew I couldn't run away this time.

"No," Alpha Morgan replied firmly. "You're staying right there. I'm coming to you."

"Coming here?" I repeated, stunned.

"Mobilize my elite warriors," I heard him bark to someone nearby. "We leave in an hour."

"Dad, the territory laws—"

"Mean nothing when my daughter has been dishonored," he interrupted. "We'll be there by nightfall."

As the mind-link faded, I stared at my reflection again. The woman looking back at me wasn't the same one who'd left home three years ago. She was stronger now. And she had an army coming.

Morning light filtered through the blinds of my apartment, casting thin stripes across the floor. I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, barely recognizing the woman looking back at me. Golden flecks still danced in my irises—evidence of my wolf's awakening. Three years of suppression had ended in a single night of agony and transformation.

"We are Alpha," my wolf whispered in my mind. "Never forget that again."

I squared my shoulders and headed for the door. The talent agency was expecting me, and I had a feeling today would change everything.

---

The chrome and glass tower of Elite Talent Agency loomed over the sidewalk. I pushed through the revolving doors, nodding at the security guard who barely glanced up from his magazine. Three years of coming here had made me invisible—just another wolfless Omega trying to make it in the entertainment industry.

"Skylar Kennedy," Beta Mckenzie Wilson's voice cut through the reception area before I even reached her office. "My office. Now."

I followed the sound of her voice down the hallway, past assistants who averted their eyes. News traveled fast in pack circles. Everyone knew what had happened last night.

Mckenzie's office was immaculate as always—minimalist furniture, awards displayed on walls, and the faint scent of expensive perfume. She didn't look up when I entered, her manicured fingers continuing to tap on her keyboard.

"You're late," she said, though I was actually five minutes early.

"I'm sorry," I said automatically, then caught myself. My wolf bristled at the apology.

Mckenzie finally looked up, her eyes narrowing as she took in my appearance. "You look terrible. Did you even try to cover up those bags under your eyes?"

"I—"

"Save it." She cut me off with a dismissive wave. "I've had three calls this morning. Three. All asking about the pathetic wolfless Omega who got publicly rejected by Sterling Bishop."

She stood up, circling her desk to face me directly. Her Beta aura flared, pressing down on me with uncomfortable pressure.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she hissed. "Sterling Bishop is one of our biggest clients. Starlight Pack controls half the entertainment industry werewolf talent in this city."

"I didn't ask him to reject me," I said quietly.

"No, you just couldn't keep an Alpha satisfied." Mckenzie's lips curled into a sneer. "What use is a wolfless Omega who can't even hold onto her mate?"

My wolf growled, pushing against my consciousness. *Let me out. Let me show her what we are.*

"Not yet," I whispered under my breath.

Mckenzie misunderstood my response, her face twisting with disgust. "Not yet? You think there's still a chance? Sterling's already moved on to the Kennedy heir."

"Aura's not—" I stopped myself before revealing the truth.

"Save your excuses." Mckenzie turned back to her desk, pulling out a folder. "You've got one chance to fix this mess you've created."

She thrust a glossy invitation toward me. "VIP networking event tonight. Every major player in the entertainment industry will be there."

"I'm not sure I should—"

"You should what? Hide away in shame?" Mckenzie laughed harshly. "You need to make yourself useful again. Entertain the guests, make yourself indispensable. Or I'll blacklist you so thoroughly you'll never work in this city again."

My stomach tightened. "Entertain?"

"Don't act innocent." Her eyes gleamed with malice. "You know what these events involve. Powerful wolves expect certain... accommodations."

For three years, I'd avoided these types of events, using my relationship with Sterling as protection.

"If you refuse," Mckenzie continued, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "I'll make sure everyone knows you're nothing but a rejected, wolfless nobody. No pack will touch you."

---

I left the agency with the invitation clutched in my hand, my mind racing. Three years ago, this threat would have devastated me. Now, it merely crystallized my resolve.

"Tonight," I whispered to my reflection in the elevator's mirrored wall, "everything changes."

Back in my apartment, I stood before my closet, surveying the meek, submissive clothing I'd worn as a disguised Omega. Pastel colors, modest cuts, nothing that would draw attention.

I pulled out a simple black dress with a high neckline and tossed it aside. Then another, and another, until the bed was covered with discarded options.

My fingers brushed against something at the back of the closet—a garment bag I hadn't opened in three years.

Inside was a crimson dress, fitted and daring, that I'd brought from home but never had the courage to wear. It screamed power and confidence—everything an Omega was supposed to avoid.

"Perfect," I murmured, running my fingers over the silky fabric.

As I held it against my body, I caught my reflection in the mirror—straight-backed, chin lifted, eyes blazing with golden flecks. The woman staring back at me wasn't hiding anymore.

"We're going hunting tonight," my wolf purred approvingly.

I smiled, feeling my canines lengthen slightly. "Yes, we are."

The VIP event would be the perfect stage for my revenge—and the beginning of my return to power.

The Beverly Hills Grand Hotel towered above me, its golden lights spilling onto the sidewalk like liquid wealth. I smoothed down the crimson dress that hugged my curves—a far cry from the meek attire I'd worn for three years. Tonight, I wasn't hiding anymore.

The VIP suite occupied the entire top floor, accessible only through a private elevator that required a key card. I'd "borrowed" mine from Mckenzie's office during our meeting, knowing she'd never notice it missing until tomorrow.

"Welcome, Miss Kennedy," the attendant said with a slight bow, his eyes widening as he took in my appearance. "Enjoy your evening."

The elevator doors opened directly into a world of crystal chandeliers and flowing champagne. The suite was packed with entertainment industry elites—producers, directors, and pack leaders mingling in an orgy of power and influence. The air hummed with conversation and clinking glasses, underscored by the faint scent of expensive cologne and perfume.

I scanned the room, noting familiar faces from movie sets and industry parties. In the center of it all stood Sterling and Aura, surrounded by an adoring crowd of sycophants and power brokers.

Sterling looked every inch the successful Alpha in his tailored tuxedo, his arm possessively wrapped around Aura's waist. She glittered in diamonds that caught the light with every movement, her dark hair styled in elegant waves that cascaded down her back.

"Another champagne, darling?" Sterling's voice carried across the room as he signaled a server, his eyes never leaving Aura's face.

I moved through the crowd slowly, my wolf's heightened senses picking up snippets of conversation. Director Vincent Cross stood near the bar, his reputation for discovering new talent legendary in werewolf entertainment circles. He'd once expressed interest in meeting me, before Sterling's rejection made me persona non grata.

"The Kennedy fortune is simply staggering," Aura's voice drifted toward me as I passed behind a group of producers. "You wouldn't believe the properties we own across Europe alone."

I froze, straining to hear more.

"And Alpha Morgan is so doting," she continued, her voice taking on a practiced tone of humblebrag. "He spoils me terribly. 'Aura, my dear,' he always says, 'you deserve the very best.'"

A couple of entertainment executives nodded appreciatively, clearly impressed by her fabricated connection to one of the most powerful Alphas in werewolf society.

"He's always sending me rare herbs for my wolf's strength," Aura added, touching her neck delicately. "The Kennedy bloodline requires special care, you know."

My wolf snarled inside me, rage building like a gathering storm. *She's lying about everything. Our father would never—*

I couldn't contain it anymore. A loud, mocking scoff escaped my lips, cutting through the conversation like a knife through silk.

The room fell silent. Every head turned toward me.

Aura's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed with fury as she recognized me. Sterling's expression shifted from surprise to cold calculation.

"Well, well," I said, stepping forward into the circle. "If I'd known we were sharing bedtime stories, I'd have brought popcorn."

"Skylar?" Director Cross's eyebrows shot up in recognition. "I didn't expect to see you here after... recent events."

"Recent events?" I tilted my head innocently. "You mean Sterling's public rejection of his true mate for a fraud? Those events?"

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Aura's face flushed crimson, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

"Sterling," I turned my gaze to him directly, "care to explain why you're parading around with someone who's lying about her bloodline?"

Sterling's Alpha aura flared, pressing down on me with uncomfortable force. Three years ago, it would have made me cower. Tonight, I stood taller.

"What is this?" he snarled, his voice carrying that distinctive Alpha timbre that made lesser wolves submit. "How is a wolfless stray allowed in a VIP suite?"

The crowd shifted uncomfortably, some taking steps back as if my supposed wolflessness might be contagious.

Mckenzie materialized at Sterling's side, her face twisted in a practiced expression of outrage. "I'm so sorry, Alpha Sterling. She's not supposed to be here."

"Then why is she?" Sterling's eyes flashed dangerously.

Mckenzie turned to me, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Skylar, darling. I thought I made it clear what your role tonight would be."

She gestured toward a tray of champagne flutes on a nearby table. "The guests need refreshments. Perhaps you could make yourself useful?"

The room fell silent again, waiting for my reaction. Every eye watched me, some pitying, others amused by my apparent humiliation.

I looked down at the tray of drinks, then back up at Sterling's smug face. My wolf stirred inside me, no longer willing to be silenced.

*It's time to show them who we really are.*