Ivy POV:

"Ivy! Stop!"

Clayton's hand clamped around my upper arm.

The moment his skin touched the fabric of my coat, a jolt of static electricity snapped between us.

It wasn't the pleasurable spark of a mate bond. It was the stinging, ugly backlash of a broken connection. It felt like touching a live wire.

Clayton hissed and jerked his hand back, staring at his palm as if it were burned.

"That... that shouldn't happen," he stammered. "You're dead. I rejected you."

I turned slowly, fixing him with a gaze cold enough to freeze hell over.

"Yes," I said. "You did."

*The memory hit me-wet asphalt, crushed legs, the metallic taste of blood. And his voice on the phone, cold as the grave.*

*I can't, Ivy. Ainsley is starting her First Shift tonight. She needs me.*

*I, Clayton Greene, reject you...*

*He had ripped my heart out while I was bleeding into the gutter.*

I looked at the man standing before me in the rain. The memory fueled my inner wolf, making her pace aggressively in my mind.

"You used the Alpha Command on a dying girl to make her stay silent," I said, my voice low. "You told me to disappear."

"I... I thought it was for the best," Clayton stammered. He looked confused, his arrogance battling with the undeniable pull of the bond that was trying to reattach itself. "Ainsley was... she was perfect. The pack needed strength."

"And now?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clayton looked at me. Really looked at me.

Five years ago, I was a scrawny, mousy girl. Now, thanks to the royal training and proper nutrition, I was tall, fit, and radiated a beauty that came from power.

I saw the lust flare in his eyes. It was disgusting.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. "Ivy, I didn't know. If you had looked like this... if you had shifted..."

"If I had been useful to you," I corrected.

He stepped closer, trying to use his height to intimidate me. It was a classic Alpha move.

"I can sense the bond," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "It's weak, but it's there. My wolf wants you. You must feel it too."

"I feel nothing but nausea," I said.

He ignored me. "Ainsley... she hasn't given me an heir yet. The elders are unhappy. If you come back... if you apologize to Ainsley for the deception..."

I stared at him, incredulous. "Apologize?"

"Yes. For faking your death. For embarrassing the family," Clayton said, gaining confidence. "If you do that, I can take you in. Not as Luna, of course-the rejection is done-but as a Pack Mistress. You would be protected. You would be with me."

My inner wolf snarled so loud I thought he might hear it. *He wants to make us a whore in our own home! Kill him!*

*Patience,* I soothed her.

"Let me get this straight," I said, stepping into his personal space. I saw his nostrils flare as he tried desperately to find my scent. "You left me to die. You rejected me. And now, you offer me the position of a mistress?"

"It's a generous offer for a wolf with no pack and no scent," he sneered, his Alpha arrogance returning. "You are clearly powerless, Ivy. You need protection."

I looked at the plastic flowers in his hand.

"Your love is like those flowers, Clayton," I said softly. "Cheap. Artificial. And it will never grow."

I turned and walked toward my car.

"You're making a mistake!" he yelled after me. "You can't survive out there as a Rogue!"

I opened the car door and looked back one last time.

"I am not a Rogue, Clayton. And you have no idea what survival looks like."

I slammed the door, leaving him standing in the rain, clutching his chest as the delayed pain of the rejection finally hit him.

*

Ivy POV:

I drove fast.

The moment I was clear of the cemetery and back on the highway, I let out a breath I had been holding for an hour. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight the leather creaked.

Seeing him hadn't broken me. But it had enraged me.

I navigated through the city until I reached the penthouse suite of the Richardson Hotel. This building was sovereign territory of the Royal Pack-a safe haven.

I parked the car in the private garage and took the elevator up.

As soon as the doors closed, I reached up and unclasped the silver amulet from my neck.

The sensation was immediate. It was like taking off a heavy wool coat in the middle of a desert.

My power flooded back. My scent-a mix of winter frost, night-blooming jasmine, and ozone-filled the small space of the elevator. My aura expanded, heavy and commanding.

I was no longer just Ivy. I was a Luna.

I walked into the penthouse. It was modern, secure, and smelled like home.

*Are you safe, my love?*

The voice in my head was deep, velvety, and felt like a warm blanket wrapped around my mind.

*The Mind-Link.*

*I am safe, Collin,* I replied, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders at the sound of his voice. *I just left the graveyard.*

I pulled out my phone and initiated a secure video call.

The screen lit up instantly.

Collin Anderson's face filled the frame. He was breathtaking. Dark hair, a strong jawline covered in stubble, and eyes that were a piercing, molten gold-the sign of an incredibly powerful Alpha.

He was in his office at the Anderson Pack headquarters. He looked ready to kill someone.

"Did he touch you?" Collin asked. His voice was a low growl that vibrated through the phone speakers.

"He grabbed my arm," I admitted.

Collin's eyes flashed. I could hear the wood of his desk creaking as he gripped it. "I will tear his arm off."

"Focus, Alpha," I said gently. "It hurt him more than it hurt me. The rejection backlash stung him."

Suddenly, a small, chaotic blur jumped into Collin's lap.

"Mama!"

My heart melted. Leo, my four-year-old son, grinned at the camera. He had my dark hair but his father's golden eyes.

"Hi, baby wolf," I cooed. "Are you being good for Daddy?"

"Yes! Grandpa Alaric let me howl at the moon!" Leo chirped.

Alaric Richardson, the Alpha King, stepped into the frame behind Collin. He looked regal and terrifying to most, but to me, he was the father Donnell Dillard never was.

"Everything is in place, Ivy," Alaric said, his voice stern but kind. "The Dillard Pack is hosting a 'Charity Gala' tonight at the Grandeur Hotel. They are desperate for investors. It is the perfect stage."

"I know," I said, my expression hardening. "I'll be there."

Collin pulled Leo closer, nuzzling the top of his head. The contrast between Clayton's selfish proposition and Collin's fierce, protective love was stark.

Collin was my Second Chance Mate.

*The Moon Goddess rarely grants do-overs. But when she does, she doesn't mess around.*

When I met Collin three years ago, I was broken. He didn't try to fix me; he loved me until I fixed myself.

"Be careful," Collin said, his eyes locking onto mine through the screen. "Your wolf is strong, Ivy. But they play dirty."

"Let them try," I said. "I'm not the girl they killed anymore."

"No," Collin smiled, a predatory, proud grin. "You are my Queen."

We ended the call. I felt the warmth of the bond lingering in my chest-the Soul's Peace. It gave me the strength I needed for what came next.

*I walked to the closet. No disguises tonight. No hiding.*

*It was time to dress for an execution.*

*

Ivy POV:

*The Grandeur Hotel was lit up like a beacon, desperate to project wealth the Dillard Pack no longer possessed.*

*I stepped out of the Royal limousine, the hem of my midnight-blue gown sweeping the pavement. The dress was cut dangerously low in the back, revealing the scars I no longer felt the need to hide. Diamonds dripped from my ears, and my wedding ring caught the strobe of the paparazzi flashes.*

*I walked toward the entrance, my heels clicking a rhythm of war against the marble steps.*

*"Invitation?"*

*The bouncer didn't even look up. But the man standing behind him did.*

*"Ivy?"*

*Dexter Dillard, my biological brother and the Pack Beta, froze. He looked like our father-thick neck, watery eyes, and a permanent sneer that was currently faltering.*

*"You're dead," Dexter whispered, blinking rapidly. "Clayton said he saw a ghost, but... you're solid."*

*"Solid enough to ruin your night, Dexter," I said smoothly.*

*He recovered quickly, his face twisting into that familiar bully's grimace. He stepped in front of me, blocking the doors. "You can't go in there. Dad's courting investors. We don't need a zombie causing a scene."*

*He signaled two security guards. "Get her out of here. Dump her in the alley."*

*One of the guards, a brute I recognized as Stan, reached for my arm. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't make this ugly."*

*I didn't flinch. I didn't pull away.*

*I simply released a fraction of my aura.*

*It wasn't the weak, submissive scent of the Ivy they remembered. It was the crushing weight of a Royal Luna.*

*Stan stopped. His wolf whined audibly. He took a step back, his instincts screaming at him to submit.*

*Dexter's knees buckled slightly, sweat instantly beading on his forehead. "What... what is that?" he gasped, clutching the doorframe to stay upright. "How are you doing that?"*

*"Move," I commanded.*

*The word wasn't a shout. It was a compulsion.*

*Dexter scrambled aside, tripping over his own feet. The guards lowered their heads, unable to meet my gaze.*

*I walked past them, the heavy double doors swinging open.*

*They had broken my body five years ago. Tonight, I was going to break their legacy.*

*