Damien POV:

"Look at him, Damien. He has your nose."

Victoria handed me the bundle of blankets. I looked down at the baby. He was red and wrinkly, squalling at the top of his lungs.

I smiled, but it felt forced.

Something was wrong.

Ever since Sophia told me the Rogue had gone quiet, a weird anxiety had been clawing at my gut. I told myself it was just the stress of the prophecy.

I held the baby. I sniffed him.

I frowned.

He smelled like... milk and vanilla. Just like Victoria.

He didn't smell like me.

Usually, an Alpha's pup carries a strong, distinct scent of pine and earth from the father. This baby smelled weak. Like a Beta, or even an Omega.

"Is he okay?" Victoria asked, wiping sweat from her forehead. She looked beautiful, perfect. Not like that dirty Rogue in the basement.

*"He's... quiet," I muttered. I leaned closer, inhaling deeply, searching for the Alpha spark.*

*Nothing.*

*The realization hit me like a bucket of ice water. The prophecy said the "first wolf born" would inherit the fortune. But this child... he felt empty. Ordinary.*

*"Victoria," I said slowly. "Why doesn't he smell like the Pack?"*

*Before she could answer, a pain shot through my chest.*

It wasn't a heart attack. It was worse. It felt like someone had reached into my ribcage and severed a vital artery with a dull knife.

I gasped, nearly dropping the baby.

"Damien?"

I fell to my knees. The room spun. My inner wolf, who had been strangely silent all day, suddenly threw back his head and howled in agony.

*GONE. SHE IS GONE.*

"Who?" I choked out.

The door to the suite burst open. My Beta, Samuel, stood there. His face was pale as a sheet.

"Alpha," Samuel said. "You need to come. Now."

I handed the baby to a nurse and staggered to my feet. The pain in my chest was throbbing in time with my heartbeat.

I followed Samuel into the hallway. He led me to the adjacent room. The room reserved for the dying.

Dr. Evans was pulling a white sheet over a body.

The smell hit me.

Blood. Silver. And... fading rain and dark chocolate.

My scent. Mixed with hers.

"No," I whispered.

I pushed past Samuel and ripped the sheet back.

It was Elena.

Her skin was grey. Her lips were blue. Her eyes were open, staring at nothing, glassy and vacant.

"She... she's cold," I said, touching her cheek. It was like touching marble.

"Time of death, 11:42 PM," Dr. Evans said softly. "Cause of death: Acute silver toxicity leading to cardiac arrest."

"Wake up," I commanded. I poured my Alpha aura into her. "Elena, get up! Stop acting!"

Nothing happened. The Alpha Command doesn't work on the dead.

"The baby?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Dr. Evans shook his head. "Stillborn. The silver killed him hours ago."

My knees hit the floor.

"But... she was just a Rogue," I muttered, trying to make sense of the hole in my chest. "She wasn't my mate. She couldn't be."

"We ran a DNA test," Dr. Evans said, handing me a tablet.

I looked at the screen.

*Paternity Test: Positive.*

*Mate Compatibility: 100% - True Mate.*

The tablet slipped from my fingers and shattered on the floor.

I had killed them. I had ordered her to hold the baby in. I had denied her medical care. I had let my sister poison her.

"ARGHHHHHH!"

I screamed. I grabbed Elena's shoulders and shook her. "Come back! I command you! I reject your death! I reject it!"

*The air in the room suddenly warped. The pressure dropped, popping my ears.*

*A swirling vortex of blue energy tore open in the center of the room. A Portal.*

*"Secure the target!" a voice shouted.*

Four figures in tactical gear rappelled *out of the rift*. They moved with a speed that wasn't human. They were Elites.

"Get away from her!" I growled, shifting my hands into claws.

One of the soldiers raised a hand. He didn't hold a gun. He held a staff made of black obsidian.

He slammed the staff on the ground.

A shockwave of pure magic blasted me backward. I slammed into the wall, pinned by an invisible force.

"Who are you?" I choked out.

A man in a bespoke suit stepped through the *portal*. He had silver hair and eyes that glowed with a terrifying, ancient power.

He looked exactly like Elena.

He didn't look at me. He looked at the body on the bed.

"My daughter," he whispered. His voice broke.

He gestured to the soldiers. "Take her. And the child."

"You can't take her!" I yelled, struggling against the magic. "She is my pack member! My property!"

The man turned to me.

The pressure in the room increased a thousand times. It wasn't just Alpha Command. It was Alpha Prime Command.

I was forced flat onto my belly, my face pressed into the broken glass.

"Your property?" The man's voice was ice. "She was the Princess of the Sterling Dynasty. And you, Damien Blackwood, have just declared war on the entire werewolf race."

He turned away. The soldiers lifted Elena's body.

Wait.

As they lifted her, I saw something. Her finger twitched.

Just a fraction of a millimeter.

Was she alive? Or was it just a muscle spasm?

Before I could shout, the man with the staff threw a vial onto the floor. Purple smoke exploded, filling the room.

When the smoke cleared, they were gone. *The portal had collapsed.* The bed was empty.

Only the bloodstain remained on the sheets.

Elena POV:

I woke up drowning.

Thick, warm liquid filled my lungs. I thrashed, panic seizing my chest. I clawed at the surface, breaking through with a gasp.

I wasn't in the ocean. I was in a pool of glowing golden liquid inside a cavern made of ice.

The Sanctum. The Sterling family's private healing spring in the Arctic Circle.

"Easy, Elena. Breathe."

Strong hands grabbed my shoulders. I looked up into the face of my father, Arthur Sterling. The most powerful Alpha in the world.

He looked ten years older than the last time I saw him. His eyes were red.

"Dad?" My voice was a croak. "Where... where is the baby?"

Father's face crumpled. He pulled me into a hug, burying my face in his chest so I wouldn't see him cry.

"We tried, El," he sobbed. "The doctors... the mages... the silver was in his system too long. We couldn't start his heart."

A scream tore out of me. It was worse than the birth. It was the sound of my soul ripping in half.

I pushed my father away and tried to dive back under the water. "Let me die! I want to be with him! Let me die!"

"No!" Father grabbed my wrists. His grip was iron. "Look at me!"

"Why did you save me?" I shrieked, scratching at his arms. "I am empty! I have nothing!"

"You have vengeance!" Father roared.

The word hung in the icy air.

"Vengeance?" I whispered.

"Damien Blackwood killed your son," Father said, his voice dropping to a deadly growl. "He tortured you. He humiliated you. He chose a fake Luna over his True Mate."

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at my reflection in the golden water.

My hair, once a dirty blonde, had turned completely white. My eyes were no longer brown. They were glowing violet.

The near-death experience had stripped away the suppressants I had taken for years. My True Bloodline had awakened.

I was the White Wolf. The rarest of all creatures. The symbol of judgment.

"Damien thinks you are dead," Father said. "We left a clone-a magical construct-in that hospital room. He buried it. He is mourning a doll."

"He is mourning?" I let out a dark, broken laugh. "Good."

"Mourning is too easy," Father said. "He needs to lose everything. His pack. His money. His sanity. And you are the only one who can take it from him."

Something clicked inside me. The grief didn't go away, but it hardened. It turned into a cold, heavy stone in my stomach.

I touched my flat belly.

*I promise you, my little one,* I thought. *Your father will pay for every breath you didn't get to take.*

I climbed out of the pool. The golden water sluiced off my naked body. My wounds were gone. My skin was flawless, glowing with power.

"How long have I been asleep?" I asked.

"Six months," Father said, handing me a silk robe. "You needed to heal. While you slept, Damien has been searching for you. He doesn't believe the clone is real. He's going crazy."

"Good." I tied the robe. "I need training, Dad. I forgot how to be a Sterling. I spent too long pretending to be a weak Rogue."

Father smiled. It was a terrifying smile.

"We start tomorrow. Combat. Economics. Politics. And... how to use the Voice."

*

*One Year Later.*

*I stood in the penthouse office of Sterling Global Headquarters in New York. The last twelve months had been a blur of grueling combat drills, high-stakes boardroom takeovers, and mastering the ancient magic of my bloodline. The weak girl who begged in a cage was gone, replaced by something colder. Sharper.*

My reflection in the glass showed a woman I barely recognized. Sharp tailored suit. Stilettos that could double as weapons. White hair styled in a sleek bob.

On the TV screen, a news anchor was speaking.

*"Breaking news: The Blackwood Pack is facing financial ruin. Their main creditor has called in all loans. Alpha Damien Blackwood is desperate for investors."*

I picked up the remote and turned up the volume.

Damien appeared on screen. He looked terrible. Gaunt, unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes. He was holding up a picture.

A picture of me. The old me. The "Rogue" Elena.

*"If anyone has seen this woman,"* Damien pleaded to the camera, his voice cracking. *"Please. She is my Luna. I will pay anything. I just want her back."*

I sipped my red wine.

"Mr. Sterling?" my assistant buzzed over the intercom. "The delegation from the Blackwood Pack is here for the acquisition meeting. They are waiting in Conference Room B."

I smiled. It didn't reach my eyes.

"Send them in," I said. "And tell security to stand down. I want to handle this myself."

I put the wine glass down.

"You want your Luna back, Damien?" I whispered to the screen. "Careful what you wish for."

I walked out of the office, my heels clicking like gunshots on the marble floor.

It was time to go hunting.

Elena POV:

The conference room was cold, kept at a precise sixty-five degrees. It was designed to make people uncomfortable. To keep them on edge.

I sat at the head of the long mahogany table, my back to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Manhattan skyline. My scent was masked, dialed down to a whisper, just enough to be polite but not enough to reveal my rank.

"They are here, Ms. Sterling," my assistant said through the intercom.

"Send them in," I replied.

The double doors opened.

Two security guards escorted a small group of men inside. At the front was Damien Blackwood.

I hadn't seen him in person for a year. The last time I saw him, he was standing outside a silver cage, condemning me to death. Now, he looked like a ghost of his former self.

His suit was expensive but wrinkled. His hair, usually gelled back in perfect order, was messy. There were dark circles under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights.

He walked with a slump, the arrogance of an Alpha replaced by the desperation of a debtor.

He didn't see me at first. I was just a silhouette against the bright window.

He took a seat at the far end of the table, wringing his hands.

"We appreciate the meeting," Damien said, his voice hoarse. "We just need an extension. Sterling Global holds all our debt. If you foreclose now, the Blackwood Pack ceases to exist. We have families. Pups."

Pups.

The word made my blood run cold. He dared to talk about pups to me?

I stood up.

As I moved, I let my control slip. Just a fraction. I released the scent I had been hiding.

Rain. Dark chocolate. And the overwhelming, freezing chill of the Arctic winter.

Damien froze mid-sentence.

His head snapped up. His nostrils flared.

The recognition hit him like a physical blow. I saw his pupils dilate, swallowing the irises. His hands gripped the edge of the table so hard the wood creaked.

"Elena?" he whispered.

It was a sound of pure disbelief. Then, pure joy.

He scrambled out of his chair, knocking it over.

"Elena! You're alive!"

He rushed toward me, arms open, tears instantly welling in his eyes. "I knew it! I knew the body was fake! I felt it!"

Two of my personal bodyguards, elite Alpha wolves trained in the frozen north, stepped in front of him. They didn't need to shift. They just crossed their massive arms.

Damien slammed into them.

"Get out of my way!" he roared, his eyes flashing red. "That is my Mate!"

"Sit down, Mr. Blackwood," I said.

My voice wasn't loud. But it carried the weight of a glacier.

Damien stopped fighting. He looked over the shoulder of the bodyguard, staring at me. He looked hungry. Desperate.

"Elena, baby, please," he panted. "Come home. I've been looking everywhere for you. I was wrong. I was so wrong."

I walked around the table, signaling the guards to let him pass. I wanted him close. I wanted him to smell the power he had thrown away.

"You were wrong about what, Damien?" I asked smoothly.

"Everything!" He tried to grab my hand, but I stepped back. "I should have listened to the bond. I'll fix it. Come back to the pack. I'll make you Luna. Publicly. The official ceremony."

He looked at me with wide, hopeful eyes.

"And the child?" I asked.

Damien hesitated. "We... we can try again. Or we can adopt. Victoria's son... he needs a mother figure. You could raise him. It would be good for your reputation to show mercy."

The audacity took my breath away.

He wanted me to raise the child of the woman who poisoned me. He wanted me to mother the son who lived while mine died.

I laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound.

"You think I want your charity?" I asked. "You think I want to be a mother to that mongrel?"

"Don't call him that," Damien said instinctively, then caught himself. "Elena, please. I am offering you everything. The Luna title. My heart."

"Your heart is rotten, Damien," I said. "And your offer is worthless."

I picked up a remote control from the table and pointed it at the large screen on the wall.

"You want to talk about children? Let's listen to something."

I pressed play.

The audio was crisp. It was the recording from the hospital hallway, recovered by my father's intelligence team.

*Stop bothering me with her drama,* Damien's voice echoed in the silent conference room. *She's a wolf. She'll heal. Save the power for Victoria.*

Damien's face went pale. He staggered back as if slapped.

"And this," I said, changing the slide.

A document appeared on the screen. A death certificate.

*Name: Unnamed Infant Male.*

*Father: Damien Blackwood.*

*Mother: Elena Sterling.*

*Cause of Death: Silver Poisoning in Utero.*

"He didn't die because he was weak, Damien," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "He died because his father ordered his mother to hold him inside a silver cage while he suffocated."

"No," Damien whispered. He covered his ears. "No, that's not... I didn't know..."

"Ignorance is not a defense!" I shouted, slamming my hand on the table. "You killed him! You chose a lie over your own flesh and blood!"

The executives from his pack looked down in shame. They knew. Everyone knew.

Damien looked up at me, tears streaming down his face. But then, something shifted in his eyes. The denial kicked in. The arrogance returned, a shield against his guilt.

"I am the Alpha!" he growled, his voice vibrating in his chest. "I made a mistake, but I am here now! You belong to me! The Moon Goddess decreed it!"

He lunged.

He didn't care about the bodyguards. His inner wolf was frantic, needing to touch me, to claim me, to fix the broken bond with physical contact.

"You are coming with me!" he yelled, reaching for my arm.

I didn't flinch. I didn't move.

"Touch me," I said coldly, "and you lose the hand."

"You are a Rogue!" he spat, losing control. "You are my bitch! You don't get to say no to an Alpha!"

"I am not a Rogue, you idiot," I said, looking down at him with pure disgust. "And you are not an Alpha here. Here, you are just a beggar."