Aliana POV:

I stared through the gap in the curtains, my chest tight.

Ivan, the ruthless Alpha CEO who wore ten-thousand-dollar suits like armor, was on his hands and knees. He was crawling across the Persian rug.

A little boy, no older than four or five, was sitting squarely on Ivan's back. The child’s tiny fists were tangled in the collar of Ivan's crisp white dress shirt, yanking on the expensive fabric.

Ivan didn't snarl. He didn't snap. Instead, a deep, rumbling laugh vibrated from his chest. He shook his shoulders, playing the obedient beast of burden, crawling faster to make the boy squeal with delight.

The woman on the sofa turned her head. The warm light caught her face.

Kiera.

Her exquisite features were twisted into a smug, lazy smile. She held a crystal glass of red wine, swirling the dark liquid as she looked down at the man and the boy with the absolute authority of a queen.

My hands started to shake. The heavy thermos slipped from my grip. I lunged, catching it against my stomach just before it hit the stone ledge. The impact bruised my ribs, but I didn't make a sound.

Inside my mind, my wolf threw her head back and let out a bloodcurdling howl. She slammed against the mental barriers of my consciousness, her claws tearing at my sanity. She wanted to shift. She wanted to smash through the glass and rip their throats out.

I bit down on the side of my tongue. Hard.

The sharp, metallic taste of my own blood flooded my mouth. The sudden burst of physical pain acted like a circuit breaker, shocking my brain back into absolute, cold rationality. I forced the wolf down, chaining her in the darkest corner of my mind.

I looked back through the glass.

The boy yanked on Ivan's dark hair. "Faster, Daddy! Run!"

Ivan stopped crawling. He turned his head, his face softening into an expression I had never seen in the three years we had been together. He pressed a long, affectionate kiss to the boy's chubby cheek.

The image felt like a jagged piece of glass twisting directly into my heart.

Ivan hated children. He had told me a hundred times that pups were noisy, useless distractions. He had made me swear we wouldn't even discuss breeding until five years after our mating ceremony.

Kiera stood up from the sofa. She walked over to where Ivan was kneeling on the rug. She raised her bare foot and lightly tapped her toes against his broad shoulder.

Ivan didn't flinch. He reached up, his large hand wrapping securely around her slender ankle. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her lower leg, right above the bone.

A violent wave of nausea hit me. My stomach violently contracted. Acid burned the back of my throat.

I took a step backward. I needed to run. I needed to get back to my car, drive away, and scrub my skin until it bled. But my boots felt like they were cast in lead, sinking deep into the muddy grass. I couldn't move.

The freezing rain slid down the metal spokes of my umbrella, dripping steadily onto my shoulders. The cold was seeping through my coat, sinking directly into my marrow.

Inside the warm, bright room, the boy grew bored. He slid off Ivan's back and ran toward the pile of plastic blocks in the corner.

Ivan stood up. He casually brushed the lint off his ruined shirt. He reached out and pulled Kiera flush against his chest. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck. She rested her head against his heart, her manicured finger tracing lazy circles on his chest.

As she moved, Kiera's gaze drifted toward the window. Her eyes seemed to lock directly onto the gap in the curtains. The corner of her mouth twitched upward into a faint, knowing smirk.

My breath hitched. I froze, my muscles locking tight. She saw me.

But she didn't scream. She didn't alert him. She just let her eyes slide past the glass, acting as if she had seen nothing but the storm.

Ivan dipped his head, taking Kiera's earlobe between his teeth. He whispered something against her skin. Kiera giggled, swatting his chest playfully.

The bulletproof, soundproof glass muted their voices into a dull hum. I needed to hear them. I needed to know exactly what this was.

I leaned closer, pressing my ear against the freezing, wet frame where the window met the brick.

The wind suddenly shifted. A violent gust ripped across the lawn, catching the tiny gap in the window seal and carrying the acoustics of the room straight to my ear.

Ivan's voice cut through the sound of the rain. It was low, cold, and dripping with the arrogant cruelty I knew so well.

"Stop being jealous. Aliana is just a placeholder."

Aliana POV:

The word echoed in my skull. Placeholder.

My fingernails dug so deeply into the palms of my hands that the skin broke. Warm blood pooled in the creases of my fists, mixing with the freezing rain. The physical pain grounded me. It was a familiar anchor. Whenever my mother had locked me in the cellar for failing a healing trial, I would pinch my arms until they bruised to keep from crying. Pain meant I was still alive.

Inside the room, the little boy abandoned his blocks. He ran across the rug and threw his arms around Ivan's leg. "Horsey!" he yelled.

Ivan patted the boy's head, his expression indulgent. He looked up and snapped his fingers. A nanny in a gray uniform immediately stepped out from the hallway shadows.

"Take him upstairs to bed," Ivan ordered.

The nanny nodded, scooping the complaining child into her arms and disappearing up the sweeping staircase.

The living room was suddenly empty, leaving only Ivan and Kiera. The air between them shifted, growing thick and dangerous.

Kiera picked up her wine glass from the coffee table. She took a slow sip, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Ivan over the rim. "You're spending an awful lot of time planning this mating ceremony next week," she said, her voice dripping with sour jealousy.

Ivan chuckled. It was a dry, dismissive sound. He stepped forward, grabbed the crystal glass out of her hand, and slammed it down onto the table. The red wine sloshed over the rim, staining the wood.

He grabbed Kiera by the hips and shoved her backward onto the sofa, pinning her beneath his weight. "I have never touched her," he growled, his face inches from hers. "You know that."

"Then why marry her?" Kiera challenged, tracing his jawline.

"Because the elders are traditional fools," Ivan sneered. "They want a pureblood healer as Luna. Aliana is nothing but a pacifier to keep the council off my back."

Kiera pouted, twisting a button on his shirt. "And the merger ceremony? Is that for the elders too?"

Ivan's eyes flared with a sudden, greedy light. "The merger is for me. That stupid bitch holds the patent for the cell regeneration serum. It's worth billions. The moment she signs the mating contract, that patent automatically transfers to the Hughes pack. To me."

Kiera feigned a gasp, her eyes wide with fake concern. "But what if her parents find out? Richard and Eleanor are ruthless. They'll tear you apart for stealing their family's asset."

Ivan threw his head back and laughed. The sound bounced off the high ceiling, loud and triumphant.

"Find out?" Ivan mocked, shaking his head. "They are the ones who handed her to me. Richard and Eleanor are getting a thirty percent kickback from the patent revenue. They sold their daughter, Kiera."

Ivan raised his hand, gesturing to the massive, opulent living room around them. "How do you think I paid for this house? Her parents bought this villa for us using the down payment I gave them for their precious daughter."

Lightning struck the ground beside me, but I didn't feel the electricity. The shockwave hit me from the inside out.

My parents. My blood.

I remembered my mother adjusting my collar just three days ago, her cold hands surprisingly gentle. *'You are doing your family proud, Aliana. Ivan is a good man.'*

My stomach violently heaved. I swallowed down the bile burning my throat.

The wolf inside me didn't howl this time. She didn't fight. She simply laid down in the dark and went completely, terrifyingly still. The silence in my head was absolute.

Suddenly, the phone in my trench coat pocket vibrated.

It wasn't a soft buzz. It was a harsh, continuous grinding against my hip bone. In the dead quiet of the storm outside, it sounded like a chainsaw.

Inside, Ivan's head snapped up. His red eyes locked directly onto the gap in the curtains. He pushed off Kiera, his body tensing into a combat stance.

Cold sweat broke out across my spine. I dropped into a hard crouch, my knees splashing into the freezing mud. I scrambled backward, throwing myself behind a thick row of wet hydrangeas.

I ripped the phone from my pocket and jammed my thumb onto the volume button, killing the vibration. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I held my breath, waiting for the front door to violently open.

Through the leaves, I saw Ivan staring at the window. He took a step toward the glass. Before he could reach it, Kiera grabbed his tie. She yanked him backward, pulling his mouth down to hers. Ivan hesitated for a second, then groaned, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her back.

I slumped against the wet brick wall of the house, my lungs burning as I dragged in a jagged breath.

I looked down at the glowing screen of my phone. The harsh light burned my retinas.

It was a text from Ivan. Sent one minute ago.

I swiped the screen open and read the words.

"Baby, I'm at the border dealing with rogue wolves. Don't wait up for me tonight."

Aliana POV:

I stared at the word 'Baby' on the glowing screen.

I didn't cry. There was no lump in my throat, no stinging behind my eyes. Ten years of grueling medical training had taught me how to compartmentalize trauma. When a patient was bleeding out on the table, panic meant death. My brain simply severed the connection to my emotional center, plunging me into a state of absolute, surgical logic.

I locked my phone and slid it back into my wet pocket.

I stood up slowly, my joints stiff from the cold. I looked through the gap in the curtains one last time. Ivan had lifted Kiera off the sofa. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist as he carried her toward the stairs.

In my mind, the white wolf kept her eyes closed. She wasn't dead. She was waiting.

I looked down at my left hand. I was still gripping the handle of the thermos. The metal was lukewarm now. I thought about the three hours I spent simmering the deer meat, carefully balancing the herbs to soothe the tension in his shoulders. It was pathetic.

I didn't throw it. I didn't scream and smash it against the glass. A confrontation right now would only end with me looking like a hysterical, discarded woman. I didn't want his apologies. I didn't want his guilt.

I wanted his ruin.

I walked away from the window, my boots squelching in the mud. I stopped beneath the massive, sprawling branches of the old oak tree in the center of the yard. I crouched down and placed the thermos carefully against the thick roots. It stood perfectly upright, a silent, mocking monument to my dead devotion.

I turned and walked back down the driveway. I didn't open my umbrella. I let the freezing rain beat down on my head, plastering my hair to my face, washing the weakness out of me.

I slipped past the guardhouse. The guard was staring at his phone, completely oblivious.

I climbed into my car. The engine roared to life. I cranked the heat, holding my numb, blue fingers in front of the vents until they stopped shaking.

I put the car in drive. I didn't go straight home. I merged onto the interstate and drove in a massive, sweeping loop around the city perimeter. I watched my rearview mirror constantly, tracking the headlights behind me. Only when I was absolutely certain I hadn't picked up a tail did I take the exit toward the city center.

I pulled into the underground garage of the penthouse I shared with Ivan.

I rode the private elevator up. The doors slid open to complete darkness. The air in the apartment smelled like expensive vanilla diffusers and polished wood. It smelled like a lie.

I stripped off my ruined trench coat right in the foyer and dropped it directly into the trash can.

I walked into the master bathroom and turned the shower on. I didn't touch the hot water dial. I stepped under the freezing spray fully naked.

The ice-cold water hit my scalp like needles. I grabbed a rough loofah and scrubbed my skin until it was bright red, violently erasing the ghost of that synthetic orchid perfume from my pores. I stayed under the water until my teeth started chattering and my core temperature plummeted.

I stepped out, drying off with mechanical efficiency. I put on a pair of long, white silk pajamas.

I walked into the living room and sat down on the center of the plush velvet sofa. I didn't turn on a single lamp. I sat in the pitch black, perfectly still, like a marble statue blending into the shadows.

The hours ticked by. The rain outside slowed to a drizzle, and the sky beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows began to bleed into a bruised, pale gray.

While I waited, my mind categorized everything. I mapped out the location of every physical deed, every encrypted drive, and every patent document in this apartment.

At exactly 7:00 AM, the elevator chimed.

I heard the faint scrape of a key sliding into the heavy brass lock.

I adjusted my posture, letting my shoulders slump. I closed my eyes and let out a soft, ragged breath, letting the exhaustion of the night wash over my face.

The heavy door clicked open.

Ivan stepped inside. A blast of chilly morning air followed him. He was carrying a brown paper bag from the artisan bakery down the street—his pathetic prop for his 'long night at the border.'

He reached out and flicked the switch for the foyer lights.

The sudden illumination spilled into the living room, catching me on the sofa. Ivan froze. The paper bag crinkled loudly in his grip. His red eyes widened in a split second of genuine panic.

But Ivan was a master of the mask. In the blink of an eye, the panic vanished, replaced by a look of deep, overwhelming affection.

He dropped the bag on the console table and strode across the room, his boots heavy on the hardwood. He dropped to his knees in front of the sofa, reaching out to cup my cheek.

"Baby, why did you fall asleep on the couch? Aren't you cold?"