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.*

*

Ivy POV:

The ballroom of the Grandeur Hotel smelled of expensive perfume, roasted meat, and the underlying musk of a hundred wolves.

*I didn't sneak in. I walked right down the center of the aisle.*

The chatter in the room died down, wave by wave, as people noticed me.

Donnell Dillard, my father and the Alpha of this failing pack, stood near the buffet. He dropped his wine glass. It shattered, red liquid staining the white carpet like blood.

"Ivy?" he whispered.

The guests-wolves from neighboring packs, potential investors-began to whisper.

"Isn't that the daughter who died?"

"Look at her... she's radiant."

"Is that... Royal blue?"

Donnell marched over, his face purple with rage. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry with relief.

He looked at me like I was a stain on his perfectly tailored suit.

"How dare you," he hissed. "You let us mourn you. You let us bury an empty casket!"

"You didn't mourn me," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "You erased me."

"You ungrateful brat!"

A shrill voice pierced the air. Aunt Carol. She was a Beta female, cruel and ambitious, who had always hated my mother.

She stormed over, her face twisted in a snarl.

"You ruin everything!" she shrieked. "This is Ainsley's night! We are securing the investors tonight, and you show up like a ghost to shame us!"

She raised her hand.

*I saw it coming. I could have caught it. I could have snapped her wrist like a dry twig.*

*But I let it land.*

*Smack!*

Her palm connected with my cheek. The sound echoed through the silent ballroom. My head snapped to the side. I tasted blood.

*Good. Now everyone saw.*

"You are a curse!" Carol screamed. "You have no wolf! You are nothing!"

I slowly turned my head back to face her. I licked the blood from the corner of my lip.

My eyes, usually a soft brown, began to glow. Not the yellow of a Beta, or the orange of a regular wolf.

They flashed a brilliant, blinding silver-white.

*The air in the room suddenly grew heavy, charged with ozone.*

"Touch me again," I snarled, my voice layered with the growl of my wolf, "and you lose the hand."

Carol stumbled back, fear finally dawning in her eyes. "You... you're..."

Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the ballroom exploded inward.

It wasn't wind. It was power.

A wave of pure, crushing Alpha Aura slammed into the room. It was heavy, suffocating, smelling of storm clouds and absolute dominance.

Every wolf in the room dropped to their knees. Their instincts forced them to bare their necks in submission. Donnell fell. Dexter fell. Even Aunt Carol collapsed, whimpering.

I was the only one left standing.

Three figures walked through the dust.

Alaric Richardson, the King.

Arnulfo Richardson, the Prince.

And in the center, radiating enough power to level the building, was Collin.

His golden eyes scanned the room, bypassing the cowering wolves until they locked onto me. He saw the red mark on my cheek.

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

Collin threw his head back and let out a roar that shook the chandeliers.

"*WHO TOUCHED MY MATE?!*"

The Alpha Command slammed into the crowd, pinning them to the floor.

*I smiled.*

"Hello, husband," I said softly.

The revenge had officially begun.

*