The money at my feet fluttered in the breeze, a physical manifestation of their contempt. I left it there in the mud, refusing to give Ashley the satisfaction of seeing me scramble for her handouts. Ryan's laughter echoed behind me as I walked away, head held high despite the muddy water seeping through my simple grey dress.
I approached the grand entrance of the Silver Moon Pack house, my heart pounding with each step. The ornate double doors loomed ahead, flanked by two burly guards whose expressions hardened as I drew near. Their muscular frames tensed, blocking my path before I could even reach for the handle.
"Begone, servant," the taller one snarled, his lip curling in disgust. "The kitchen entrance is around back."
"I'm not a servant," I said quietly, reaching into my small purse for the invitation. "I'm here for the alliance ceremony."
The guards exchanged amused glances. The second one, a red-haired wolf with a jagged scar across his cheek, barked out a laugh.
"Right. And I'm the Moon Goddess herself," he mocked. "No one dressed like *that* belongs at an alliance ceremony."
From the portico above, I heard Ryan's distinctive chuckle. Looking up, I saw him leaning against the stone railing with Ashley pressed against his side. They were watching the scene unfold with undisguised pleasure, whispering to each other between bursts of laughter.
"Don't let her in," Ashley called down, her voice carrying across the courtyard. "She'll embarrass everyone with those rags she's wearing."
Ryan nodded in agreement, his eyes cold as they met mine. "Pack security, remember? We can't have rogues wandering into official functions."
Inside my mind, Lyra roared in distress, clawing at my consciousness. *'Let me out!'* she demanded. *'I'll show them who they're dealing with!'*
*'Not yet,'* I soothed, though my own anger burned white-hot. *'Alexander will be here soon. This is their moment to reveal their true nature.'*
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. The mating mark on my neck tingled beneath my collar, a reminder of who I truly was now. Not a rejected mate or a rogue, but a queen—Alexander's queen.
"I have an invitation," I said firmly, holding out the embossed card with the royal seal partially visible. "I'm expected at this ceremony."
The guard snatched it from my hand, examining it with suspicion. "This must be forged," he declared after a moment. "No way someone like you got a legitimate invitation to the Alpha's alliance ceremony."
He tore the invitation in half, letting the pieces flutter to the ground. My stomach clenched at the deliberate disrespect, not just to me but to the royal seal of the Lycan King—my mate.
"Please," I said, my voice steady despite the fury building inside me. "You're making a mistake."
"The only mistake was letting you get this far," the guard growled. "Now leave before we have to escort you out."
More pack members had gathered now, drawn by the commotion. Some whispered behind their hands, others openly stared. I recognized faces from my past—wolves who had once greeted me with respect when I was Ryan's mate, now looking at me with a mixture of pity and contempt.
I closed my eyes briefly, trying to establish a mind-link with Alexander. *'Alexander,'* I called silently, reaching for that familiar, comforting presence. *'I need you.'*
Ashley's shrill voice cut through my concentration. "She's plotting something!" she shrieked, pointing at my folded hands and closed eyes. "Look at her! She's probably trying to curse us or something!"
The crowd's murmurs grew louder, more hostile. I opened my eyes to find myself surrounded by suspicious, angry faces. Ashley had descended the steps, now standing at the edge of the gathering crowd, her accusatory finger still pointed at me.
"I've heard rogues develop all sorts of dark magic when they're cast out," she continued, her voice pitched to carry. "They say rejection drives them mad."
Lyra's growl reverberated through my mind, matching the pounding of my heart. I'd expected cruelty, but this orchestrated humiliation went beyond even my worst expectations. And somewhere in that hostile crowd, I sensed another presence approaching—one that made my blood run cold with anticipation of what was to come.
The hostility in the air thickened as I stood surrounded by suspicious faces. The torn invitation lay at my feet, as worthless now as the muddy bills Ashley had thrown at me. I could feel Lyra pacing restlessly within me, her anger matching my own rising indignation.
Suddenly, Ashley's hand flew to her ear, her expression morphing from smug satisfaction to theatrical horror in an instant.
"My earrings!" she shrieked, her voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. "My mother's heirloom earrings—they're gone!"
Her gaze locked onto mine, eyes narrowing with calculated malice. "She must have stolen them when she bumped into me!"
I stared at her in disbelief. We hadn't even been close enough to touch. "I never—"
"Thief!" someone shouted from the crowd. The accusation was taken up by others, a chorus of angry voices rising around me.
Lyra snarled within me. 'This is a setup! They planned this!'
The crowd pressed closer, their wolves responding to the heightened emotions. I could see their eyes beginning to glow amber and gold in the fading light, feel their auras pushing against mine, testing for weakness. I kept my own power tightly leashed, though it took every ounce of control I possessed.
'Alexander,' I called again through our mate bond. 'They're trying to trap me.'
A petite she-wolf with mousy brown hair pushed her way forward, her expression eager as she positioned herself at Ashley's side. I recognized her as Chloe, one of Ashley's most devoted followers.
"I saw her!" Chloe announced, her voice carrying across the courtyard. "I was watching when she sidled up to Ashley near the steps. She must have taken them then!"
The lie was so blatant I almost laughed. I hadn't been anywhere near the steps. But the crowd was already convinced, their faces contorted with righteous anger on behalf of their future Luna.
"Search her!" someone called out.
"No," I said firmly, taking a step back. "I won't be manhandled based on false accusations."
I reached for my phone, intending to call for help, but Ryan's commanding voice stopped me cold.
"Don't move," he ordered, his Alpha tone washing over me like a physical force.
Though I was immune to his commands as a mated Lycan Queen, I let my hand fall away from my purse, curious to see how far they would take this farce.
Ryan strode forward, parting the crowd with his presence. His face was a mask of concern, but I could see the cruel satisfaction lurking in his eyes. He was enjoying this—enjoying seeing me cornered and humiliated.
"Let me handle this," he announced to the gathered pack members, his voice carrying the authority of their future Alpha.
He approached me slowly, as if I were a wild animal that might bolt. The condescension in his expression made my skin crawl.
"You must be truly desperate," he said, his voice pitched low enough that only those closest could hear. "Living as a rogue has brought you so low."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. With deliberate slowness, he tossed them at my feet, where they clattered against the pavement and rolled into the mud.
"I'll pay for her mistake," he announced loudly to the crowd. "The earrings are worth thousands, but I'll cover the loss. It's clear she's fallen on hard times."
The coins gleamed dully in the dirt, a physical manifestation of his contempt. I stared at them, then raised my eyes to meet his. For a moment, just a moment, I let him glimpse the queen within me—let my gaze harden with the promise of retribution to come.
Something flickered in his expression—uncertainty, perhaps, or the first inkling that he had miscalculated badly. But before he could process what he'd seen, I lowered my eyes again, resuming the role of the humiliated rogue.
Around us, the pack's anger had begun to shift to something uglier—a predatory anticipation. They sensed blood in the water, weakness to be exploited. I could feel their wolves pressing closer, drawn by the prospect of violence.
And then I felt it—a shift in the atmosphere, a heavy pressure that made every wolf in the vicinity freeze instinctively. A presence so powerful it commanded submission without a single word being spoken.
Alexander had arrived.