Ivy POV:

I slid into the backseat of the limousine. The interior was cool leather and silence. The driver, a Blood Moon warrior named Marcus, nodded respectfully at me through the rearview mirror.

"To the hotel, Luna?"

"Yes, Marcus. But drive slowly."

My hands were shaking. Not from fear, but from the adrenaline. My white wolf was pacing, agitated. Seeing Clayton had stirred up old memories, old hurts. I needed to anchor myself.

I pulled out my secure phone and dialed.

The screen lit up, and a face appeared.

Collin Richardson.

Even through the pixelated screen, his power was undeniable. He had sharp, predatory features, dark hair, and eyes that burned like molten gold. He was sitting in a high-rise office in New York, the city skyline blurring behind him.

He was the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack. The Supreme Alpha. And he was my Mate.

"Ivy," he said. His voice was deep, a rumble that settled in my bones and calmed my wolf instantly. But his eyes were narrowing as he looked at me. "You look... agitated. Did he touch you?"

His tone dropped an octave. "Did that mongrel touch you? Do I need to fly there and tear his throat out?"

"Calm down, my love," I said, leaning back. "He tried. He failed. I broke his wrist."

Collin's lips curled into a dark, satisfied smirk. "Good. But I wish I had been there to hear the bone snap."

"You promised to let me handle the first round," I reminded him.

"I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But my wolf is going crazy knowing you are near them. They hurt you once. If they try again..."

"They can't hurt me, Collin. I'm not that girl anymore."

Suddenly, a small, chaotic blur jumped into the frame.

"Mama!"

My heart melted. Leo, our four-year-old son, shoved his face into the camera. He had Collin's dark hair and my eyes.

"Hi, baby," I cooed.

"Mama, are you hunting?" Leo asked, his eyes wide with excitement. He opened his mouth and tried to growl, showing off his little canines. "Rawr!"

"Yes, Leo. Mama is hunting bad wolves," I said, smiling.

"Bite them!" Leo advised sagely.

"I will," I promised.

Another face appeared behind Leo. It was Alaric, Collin's father and the former Alpha King. He looked stern, leaning on his wolf-head cane, but his eyes were warm when he looked at Leo.

"Ivy," Alaric said. "Did you secure the perimeter?"

"I made contact with Clayton," I reported. "He knows I'm alive. The Silver Lake Pack will be in chaos by tonight."

"Good," Alaric nodded. "Remember, you have the documents?"

"The inheritance papers? Yes."

"That land belongs to you through your mother," Alaric said firmly. "Don't let Donnell Dillard intimidate you. You are a Richardson now. You have the entire Blood Moon Pack behind you. If they try any pack law nonsense, call me. I wrote half those laws."

"I know, Dad," I said, calling him the title he had earned by saving my life five years ago.

"And Ivy?" Collin's face returned to the screen, filling it. His eyes were intense, burning with that possessive fire that defined our bond.

I love you, his voice echoed in my head through our link, even though he was hundreds of miles away. The Supreme Alpha bond ignored distance entirely.

I love you too, I linked back.

"Be careful," he said aloud. "I'm finishing up here. I'll be on the jet in an hour. I'll see you at the 'dinner'."

"I'll be waiting," I said.

I hung up. The connection severed, but the warmth of the bond remained. I touched the mark on my neck, hidden by my hair—the place where Collin had bitten me, claiming me as his.

It pulsed with heat.

I wasn't alone. I had a mate who would burn the world for me, a son who was a born king, and a father-in-law who was a legend.

I looked out the window as the car entered the city center.

"Okay, Silver Lake," I whispered. "Let's see what you've got."

Ivy POV:

I needed armor. Not Kevlar, but silk and velvet.

I stopped at the most exclusive shopping district in Chicago. I needed an outfit for tonight—something that screamed 'money' and 'power.' Something that would make Ainsley feel like the cheap imitation she was.

I was browsing a rack of designer clothes for Leo—little jackets with protective runes stitched into the lining—when my ears pricked up.

Footsteps.

Not shoppers. These were heavy, deliberate steps. Three men.

I didn't turn around. I kept examining a tiny blue vest.

"Ivy."

The voice was familiar, but it lacked the warmth a brother's voice should have.

I turned. Dexter Dillard, my older brother, stood there. He was flanked by two Silver Lake warriors. They looked out of place among the perfumes and jewelry, their cheap suits straining at the shoulders.

Dexter looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled like stale coffee and anxiety.

"Dexter," I said coolly. "You look like hell."

"You have to come with us," Dexter said, his voice low. "Now. Father is furious. The Elders are convening a trial."

"Fast work," I mused, glancing at the warriors. "Did Clayton call in my license plate number, or did he just follow the limo?"

"Clayton told us everything," Dexter hissed, confirming my suspicion. "You made a mistake coming back to this city."

"A trial?" I laughed. "For what? Surviving?"

"For desertion! For faking your death!" Dexter looked around nervously to see if anyone was watching. "Just come quietly, Ivy. Don't make a scene."

I turned back to the clothes. "I'm busy."

"Ivy!" Dexter stepped forward. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Ainsley... when she heard you were alive, she collapsed. She's heartbroken! She's sick, Ivy. She's so fragile."

I spun around, my patience snapping.

"Fragile?" I stepped into Dexter's face. "The woman who stole my mate and watched me bleed out in the snow is fragile?"

"She didn't know!" Dexter lied. "We all thought you were dead!"

"Liar," I said. My voice was calm, but deadly. "Five years ago. That night. I was freezing. I was dying. I reached out to you, Dexter. Through the link. I screamed for you."

Dexter's face went white.

"I felt you," I whispered. "I felt you hear me. And then... you blocked me."

The warriors behind him shifted uncomfortably. Blocking a pack member in distress was a serious violation of the Wolf Code. It was cowardly.

"Father ordered it," Dexter whispered, his voice trembling. "He said... he said if you were rejected, you were a shame to the family. He ordered us to cut the link."

"And you listened," I said. "You chose your daddy's approval over your sister's life."

"I had no choice!"

"We always have a choice," I said.

Dexter reached out to grab my arm. "We're leaving. Now."

My white wolf snarled. I could rip his throat out right here. It would be self-defense. But that was too easy. I wanted to break them slowly.

I sidestepped his grab seamlessly.

"I will come," I said, smoothing down my coat. "Not because you ordered me, but because I want to see the look on Donnell's face."

I tossed the blue vest to the sales clerk and handed her a black credit card—the kind with no limit.

"Keep this for me," I told her.

I turned back to Dexter.

"Lead the way, brother," I said, my smile not reaching my eyes. "But remember one thing: it's easy to invite a predator into your house. It's much harder to get them to leave."

Ivy POV:

The Silver Lake Pack didn't have a territory in the city anymore; they had sold their estate years ago to cover debts. Now, they operated out of a rented conference suite in the Grand Oakhaven Hotel. It was a pathetic attempt to look important.

Dexter led me into the private meeting room.

The air was thick with tension and the smell of old wolves.

Donnell Dillard, my father and the Alpha of Silver Lake, sat at the head of a long mahogany table. He looked just as I remembered—arrogant, stiff, and obsessed with appearances.

Aunt Carol sat to his right. She was the pack's matriarch, a bitter woman who upheld the "old ways" only when it suited her cruelty.

When I walked in, silence fell.

Then, Carol stood up.

"You!" she screeched, pointing a bony finger at me. "You ungrateful little wretch! How dare you show your face?"

"Hello, Aunt Carol," I said, ignoring the warriors closing the door behind me. I walked to the table, pulled out a chair directly opposite Donnell, and sat down. I crossed my legs. "You're looking... shriveled."

"You possess no manners!" Carol shouted. "You are a Rogue! A whore who ran off to sleep with strays!"

Donnell slammed his hand on the table. "Enough!"

He glared at me. He tried to project his Alpha aura, to crush me into submission. It was like a gentle breeze against a stone wall. I didn't even blink.

"Where have you been, Ivy?" Donnell demanded. "And why have you returned to shame this family again?"

"I came for what is mine," I said calmly. "My mother's land. The deed to the North Woods. It was left to me in her will. You've been squatting on it."

"That land belongs to the Pack!" Donnell roared.

"It belongs to her bloodline," I corrected. "And I am the only blood left. Since you declared me dead, I assume you forged the transfer papers? That's fraud, Donnell."

Carol let out a sound of pure rage. She marched around the table.

"You insolent brat!"

She raised her hand, swinging for my face.

I didn't flinch. I didn't let it hit me. I am the Luna of Blood Moon; no one touches me.

My hand shot up, catching her wrist inches from my cheek. I squeezed, just enough to make her gasp.

"Careful, Auntie," I warned, my voice dropping to a growl. "I'm not the punching bag you remember."

I shoved her hand away. She stumbled back, shocked.

"She attacked an Elder!" Dexter yelled, seizing the opportunity. "Seize her!"

The two warriors moved toward me.

BOOM.

The double doors of the conference room didn't just open; they were blasted off their hinges.

Wood splinters flew everywhere.

A presence filled the room. It wasn't just an aura; it was a gravity well. It was heavy, dark, and suffocating. It smelled of ozone, burning wood, and absolute death.

Every wolf in the room, except me, fell to their knees. They couldn't help it. Their biology betrayed them.

Collin walked in.

He was wearing a charcoal suit that cost more than this entire hotel. His eyes were glowing a violent, bloody gold. Behind him stood two Enforcers from Blood Moon, giants of men who looked ready to slaughter everyone.

Collin didn't look at Donnell. He didn't look at the warriors.

He looked at Carol, who was trembling on the floor.

The air temperature dropped ten degrees.

"Who?" Collin's voice was a low growl that shook the window panes.

He scanned the room, his gaze landing on everyone like a physical blow.

"WHO DARED TO RAISE A HAND AGAINST MY LUNA?!"

Donnell Dillard fell out of his chair, scrambling backward on the floor. He stared at Collin with wide, terrified eyes.

"Blood Moon..." Donnell whispered, his voice cracking. "Supreme Alpha..."

Collin stepped into the room, walking over the broken glass. He came to my side, his hand cupping my face, checking me for injuries I didn't have.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, though his eyes were still murderous.

"I handled it," I whispered.

Collin turned to face them. He didn't yell. He didn't need to.

"Pray to your Goddess," Collin said to my father. "Because you just declared war on the Richardson family."