Elfrieda POV:

Jaxon made me wear the blue silk dress. He said it was the color of the Tate Pack’s banner. I knew it was just another costume for his puppet.

We were at the Grand Engagement Gala. The ballroom was filled with the elite of the werewolf society. Alphas from neighboring territories, wealthy business partners, and the Elders who held the keys to Jaxon’s inheritance.

The air smelled of champagne, roasted meat, and the musk of a hundred wolves. It was suffocating.

"Smile," Jaxon whispered in my ear, his hand gripping my waist a little too tight. " The Elders are watching."

"I am smiling," I said through gritted teeth.

Then I saw her. Janice.

She shouldn't have been here. She was supposed to be in London. But there she was, standing near the buffet, wearing a red dress that screamed for attention. She caught my eye and smirked.

She raised a glass to me. Around her neck, hidden under a scarf, I saw the glimmer of a protective amulet. One bought with pack funds. I had seen the receipt on the tablet.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jaxon’s voice boomed. He possessed the Alpha Tone, a vocal resonance that demanded attention. The room went silent.

He pulled me to the center of the floor beneath the massive crystal chandelier. "Tonight, I officially present my future Luna. Elfrieda has stood by me through the tragedy of my brother’s death. She is the epitome of loyalty."

He went down on one knee. The crowd gasped in delight. It was a perfect performance.

Task #400: The Public Proposal.

I looked down at him. I felt nothing but nausea. I opened my mouth to speak, to perhaps say no, to end this charade.

Snap.

The sound was like a gunshot.

My enhanced hearing picked it up a split second before anyone else. The metal cable holding the chandelier above us had snapped.

"Jaxon!" I shouted.

Gravity took over. The massive fixture, tons of crystal and steel, plummeted.

Time seemed to slow down. In a moment of danger, an Alpha’s instinct is hardwired to protect his Mate above all else. It is biological law. He should have shielded me. He should have thrown me out of the way.

But Jaxon didn't look at me.

His eyes darted to the side. To the red dress.

Janice let out a theatrical scream, though she was well clear of the danger zone.

Jaxon lunged. He shoved me aside—not to save me, but to use my body as a leverage point to launch himself toward Janice.

I fell backward, hitting the marble floor hard.

The chandelier crashed down.

It didn't hit me directly, but it shattered upon impact. Thousands of shards of crystal exploded like shrapnel.

Agony. White-hot and blinding, it ripped through my right arm and shoulder.

"Argh!" I screamed.

The crystal wasn't just glass. It was lead crystal, reinforced with silver wiring for aesthetic shine. Silver. The poison of our kind.

A large shard, laced with silver wire, was embedded deep in my forearm. Smoke began to rise from the wound immediately. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. Silver burns a werewolf like acid, halting our rapid healing factor and causing excruciating agony.

"My arm!" I cried out, clutching the wound.

The ballroom was in chaos. Dust and debris filled the air.

"Janice! Are you okay?" Jaxon’s frantic voice cut through the noise.

I looked up through the haze of pain. Jaxon was cradling Janice in his arms. She didn't have a scratch on her. She was sobbing fake tears into his chest.

"I was so scared, Jax," she whimpered.

He was checking her for injuries, his hands trembling. He hadn't even looked back at me.

"Jaxon..." I whispered. The silver was poisoning my blood. My vision blurred.

A pack warrior rushed over to me. "Alpha! The future Luna is hit! It’s silver!"

Jaxon turned his head. His eyes were wild, dilated. For a second, he looked at me—bleeding, broken on the floor. Then he looked back at Janice.

"Get the car," Jaxon barked at the warrior. "Janice is in shock. She needs to get to the hospital immediately. Stress is bad for her condition."

"But Alpha, Elfrieda is—"

"I gave you a command!" Jaxon roared, using the Alpha Command. The warrior flinched, his wolf forcing him to obey.

Jaxon scooped Janice up and ran toward the exit. He left me. He stepped over the debris, stepped over the blood—my blood—and carried his mistress to safety.

I lay there, the poison spreading. The physical pain was blinding, but the pain in my chest was worse. My wolf, deep inside, let out a mournful howl and then went silent.

Darkness took me.

I woke up to the sterile smell of the pack hospital. Beeping monitors. The sharp scent of antiseptic.

"She's awake," a gruff voice said.

My father stood there. And Jamil. Jamil looked like he had been crying, or fighting, or both. His knuckles were bruised.

I looked down at my arm. It was heavily bandaged. I could still feel the phantom burn of the silver.

"Where is he?" I asked, my voice a rasp.

"Next door," Jamil spat. "Sitting by her bedside. She has a bruised ego. You have twenty stitches and silver poisoning."

I stared at the white ceiling. "Six months ago."

"What?" my father asked gently.

"Six months ago," I repeated, tears finally leaking from my eyes. "When Jaxon went on that 'business trip' to the coast... I miscarried."

My father gasped. In werewolf culture, a pup is a blessing from the Moon. To lose one is a tragedy.

"I called him," I whispered. "I called him ten times. He never answered. I went through it alone on the bathroom floor. I lost our pup because I was weak from stress, from him draining my energy."

I looked at Jamil. "He was with her. He was marrying her in Vegas while our child was dying inside me."

Jamil let out a low growl, his eyes flashing gold—the sign of his wolf surfacing. "I will kill him. I will tear his throat out."

He turned to the door.

"No," I said. It took all my strength. "No, Jamil."

"He deserves death!"

"He deserves worse," I said. I sat up, wincing as the silver poison throbbed. "He deserves to live with what he’s done."

I reached for my left hand. My fingers were swollen, but I twisted the diamond ring. It stuck for a moment, then slid off.

I placed it on the bedside table. The metal made a hollow clink sound.

"Take me home," I said. "I am done with the Tate Pack."

Elfrieda POV:

A week passed. The silver poison had cleared from my blood, but the ugly, jagged scar on my forearm remained. It would take months to fade completely, a permanent reminder of the night my mate chose another.

I was staying at my parents' estate on the edge of the city. I hadn't turned on my phone. I hadn't checked the news.

Then, Jaxon showed up.

I heard the commotion downstairs. The deep rumble of an engine, the slamming of a car door.

"You are not welcome here, Alpha Tate," Jamil’s voice carried from the porch.

"She is my fiancée, Jamil. Move aside." Jaxon’s voice was arrogant, laced with the command that usually made wolves cower.

But Jamil didn't move.

I walked out onto the balcony. Jaxon stood in the driveway holding a massive bouquet of white lilies. Lilies. The flower of funerals. He didn't even know.

He looked up and saw me. "Elfrieda. Thank the Moon. I've been so worried."

"Worried?" I called down. My voice was cold. "Is that why you left me bleeding on the floor to carry a woman who wasn't even scratched?"

Jaxon shifted uncomfortably. "Janice... she has a delicate constitution. She was in shock. I knew the medics would get to you. You're strong, Elfrieda. You always have been."

Strong. That was the excuse men used when they wanted to neglect you.

"Go away, Jaxon."

"Stop being dramatic," he snapped, his patience fraying. "The wedding is in five days. The press is asking questions. I need you to issue a statement saying it was a misunderstanding."

His phone rang. He looked at it, and his expression instantly softened.

"Janice? What’s wrong?" He listened, his face paling. "Your ankle? Is it swelling? Okay, okay, don't move. I'm coming."

He hung up and looked at me, pointing a finger. "We will finish this later. Janice fell down the stairs. I have to go."

He threw the flowers on the ground and got back into his car, speeding away.

I stared at the crushed lilies. Something inside me snapped. Not in anger, but in cold resolution.

I went back inside, grabbed my keys, and followed him.

I tracked his scent. It led to a luxury apartment complex in the downtown district—a neutral zone where pack laws were less strictly enforced.

I parked down the street and walked. I could smell it before I even reached the building. Cheap, cloying perfume. Vanilla and synthetic musk. It was disgusting to a wolf's nose.

I found the ground-floor apartment. The curtains were drawn, but not fully.

I stood in the shadows of the alley, peering through the gap.

Jaxon was sitting on the sofa. Janice was on his lap. There was no ice pack on her ankle. She was straddling him, kissing his neck.

"She's so boring, Jax," Janice giggled. I could hear them clearly through the glass. "Holding her is like holding a piece of wood. No wolf. No fire."

"I know," Jaxon groaned, burying his face in her hair. "But the list... I just need to sign the papers. Then she can stay in the guest wing and rot for all I care."

Janice looked up. Her eyes locked directly onto the gap in the curtains. She saw me.

She smiled. It was a predator's smile.

She leaned in and kissed Jaxon deeply, making a show of it. She released her scent—a chemically altered pheromone designed to mimic a mate's heat. It was fake, but it worked on Jaxon.

My wolf whimpered. It was a sound of pure heartbreak. To see your mate rejecting you is one thing; to see him mocking the bond with an imposter was torture.

I turned away. I walked back to my car, my legs feeling like lead.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I had turned it on to use the GPS.

A notification from Instagram. Janice_Tate_Official requested to follow you.

Then a direct message.

Meet me at The Grind Café in the Neutral Zone. 2 PM. Unless you’re too scared, little Omega.

I gripped the steering wheel until the leather creaked. She wanted to gloat. She wanted to rub my face in the dirt.

I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. My eyes were red, my skin pale. But my jaw was set.

I wasn't an Omega. I wasn't just a violin player.

I typed back: I'll be there.

Elfrieda POV:

The Grind Café was busy with humans and wolves alike. It was neutral territory, meaning violence was strictly forbidden by the Council. It was the only reason Janice felt safe enough to meet me.

She was sitting in a corner booth, wearing oversized sunglasses and sipping a latte. She didn't look injured. She looked smug.

I sat down opposite her. I didn't order anything.

"You look terrible, honey," Janice said, lowering her glasses. "The scar really ruins your aesthetic."

"Cut the crap, Janice," I said. "What do you want?"

She reached into her designer bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She slid it across the table.

It was a copy of their marriage license.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew your place," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "You are the placeholder. I am the wife. In the human world, and in his heart."

"You are a mistress using illegal pheromones to drug an Alpha," I countered calmly. "If the Council finds out, you'll be made Rogue."

Her eyes narrowed. "You think you're so smart. But you're nothing. You can't even shift. You're a genetic dead end. Jaxon hates touching you. He told me your skin feels cold."

"He didn't seem to mind when he was using me to secure his inheritance."

Janice’s face twisted in rage. She stood up, grabbing her hot coffee.

"You bitch!"

She splashed the steaming liquid directly onto me.

She aimed perfectly. The boiling coffee hit my healing arm.

"Agh!" I cried out.

The heat reacted with the silver residue still in my tissue. It felt like being branded with a hot iron. I jumped up, clutching my arm, knocking my chair over.

The café went silent.

"Oh my god! She attacked me!" Janice screamed, dropping the cup and shrinking back in a fake display of terror.

The door chimes jingled. Jaxon burst in. He must have been waiting in the car.

He saw me standing over Janice, my face twisted in pain, while Janice cowered.

"Elfrieda!"

The Alpha Voice hit me like a physical hammer. It forced my knees to buckle. I fell to the floor, gasping.

"What did you do?" Jaxon roared, rushing to Janice.

"She... she threatened to kill me," Janice sobbed, burying her face in his shirt. "She said she would finish what the chandelier started. She threw the table!"

It was such a blatant lie. The coffee was dripping off my arm. The cup was on her side of the table.

"Jaxon, look," I gasped, holding up my burned, stained arm. "She threw the coffee..."

"Silence!" Jaxon commanded.

The power of his order clamped my mouth shut. My vocal cords paralyzed. Tears of frustration streamed down my face.

He looked at me with pure disgust. "I knew you were jealous, Elfrieda. But violence? Against a human?"

He didn't even smell the lie. He was so deep under her spell, so blinded by his own arrogance.

"Is that how a Luna behaves?" he spat.

People in the café were whispering.

"Hey, buddy," a human man stood up. "The lady in the red threw the coffee. I saw it."

"Mind your business!" Jaxon snarled, his eyes flashing wolf-gold. The human sat back down, terrified by the primal aggression.

Jaxon turned back to me. "Get out of my sight. Go home. We will deal with your punishment later."

He put his arm around Janice and guided her out, cooing softly to her.

I sat on the floor of the café, coffee staining my clothes, my arm throbbing. The humiliation was absolute.

But as I sat there, something changed.

The sadness evaporated. The heartbreak turned into ice.

Deep in my chest, the silent wolf stirred. She didn't whimper this time. She didn't howl.

She growled.

It was a low, dangerous vibration that rattled my ribcage.

I stood up. I refused the napkins offered by a sympathetic waitress.

I walked out of the café. I wasn't going home to wait for punishment. I was done waiting.