Katarina POV:

I stayed in my room for two days.

Alessandro thought I was sulking. He thought I was broken.

I was working.

I didn't need to drill holes in the walls; I wasn't an amateur. I used the security override codes Mark had 'accidentally' left in the file to activate the dormant surveillance nodes in the East Wing.

I sat in front of my laptop, watching the feeds.

Camera 4: The Kitchen.

Aria walked in. The shy, stuttering girl was gone. She walked with a swagger.

"You!" she pointed at a young Omega maid. "This soup is trash. It's cold."

"I'm sorry, Miss Aria, I can heat it-"

Aria slapped the bowl out of the maid's hand. Hot soup splattered over the girl's apron.

"Lick it up," Aria sneered. "That's what dogs do, isn't it?"

The maid started to cry, bending down to clean the mess. Aria laughed and kicked the girl in the ribs.

I recorded it. Save to Folder: Evidence.

Camera 2: The Alpha's Study.

Alessandro was pacing. Aria was sitting on the desk, swinging her legs.

"The Elders are asking questions about the five million, Alessandro," he said, running a hand through his hair. "My father is furious."

"Tell him it was an investment," Aria said, examining her nails. "Or tell him to mind his own business. You're the Alpha, aren't you? Or is your daddy still in charge?"

Alessandro stopped. "Don't speak about my father like that."

Aria hopped off the desk. She walked over to him, softening her face instantly. She became the victim again.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just hate seeing you stressed. You're so strong. You deserve to do whatever you want." She kissed his chest. "You saved me. Remember?"

Alessandro deflated. The savior complex kicked in. "I know. I know."

The door to my bedroom burst open.

I slammed the laptop shut.

Alessandro stood there. He looked disheveled.

"You've been in here for two days," he said. "Get dressed. The Rossi Pack is hosting a dinner. We have to go."

"I'm not feeling well," I said coldly. "Perhaps Aria can wear the Luna's sash tonight? She seems to enjoy my jewelry."

"Stop it," he snapped. "You're coming. I need you to... I need you to look perfect. Like usual."

"Perfect," I repeated. "That's all I am to you. A prop."

I stood up, walking toward him. "You know she's lying, Alessandro. You know her parents aren't dead. I found her records. They live in Ohio. She has credit card debt. She's not a tragic orphan."

Alessandro looked away. "I know."

I froze. "You know?"

"I know some of it is... exaggerated," he admitted. "But she had a hard life, Katarina. She needs me."

"She is manipulating you!"

"She makes me feel needed!" he shouted. "You? You don't need anyone. You're perfect. You're rich. You're strong. You never cry. You never ask for help. Being with you is like being with a... a mirror. It's exhausting."

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a cruel whisper. "You don't need me, Katarina. But she would die without me."

I stared at him. The man I had loved since I was sixteen.

"You are pathetic," I said. "You don't want a mate. You want a pet."

His phone buzzed. He checked it. His face softened.

Aria: I'm scared of the thunder. Please come hold me.

It wasn't even raining.

"I have to go," he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He tossed it onto the bed.

"Wear that tonight. It's an apology."

He left.

I opened the box. It was a silver bracelet. Thin. Cheap. The kind you buy at a mall kiosk.

"An apology," I scoffed.

I threw the bracelet into the trash can.

Then, I sat back down at my laptop. I plugged in a USB drive.

I pulled up a new audio file I had intercepted an hour ago. It was a phone call between Aria and a contact named "Rico."

Audio Playback:

Aria: "He's such an idiot, Rico. I have him wrapped around my finger. He spent five million on a necklace! I'm going to pawn it next week."

Rico (Male voice): "Good girl. Get the cash. And the codes to the vault. Then we leave."

Aria: "I know. I just have to get rid of the Ice Bitch first. The saddle didn't work. I need something stronger."

I gripped the USB drive. My knuckles turned white.

"You want something stronger, Aria?" I whispered, my eyes glowing a faint, icy blue. "I'll give you something stronger."

Next week was the Alpha Summit. Every leader in the region would be there.

It was the perfect stage for an execution.

Katarina POV:

The annual Alpha Summit was a display of teeth and diamonds.

The ballroom of the Grand Hotel smelled of expensive champagne, roasted venison, and the overwhelming, musk-heavy scent of fifty different Alphas marking their territory. It was a suffocating mix of ego and power.

I walked in alone.

Alessandro was somewhere ahead, likely parading Aria around like a prize poodle. I didn't care. I wore a gown of midnight blue velvet, heavy and regal. Around my neck hung the De Luca family heirlooms-emeralds that had belonged to Alessandro's grandmother. They were cold against my skin, grounding me.

I held my head high. I was the Luna. Even if my husband treated me like furniture, the blood of the White Wolf demanded I show no weakness.

"Luna De Luca," a deep voice purred.

I turned. Antoine, the Alpha of the French lycan faction, bowed low over my hand. He ignored the empty space beside me where my mate should have been.

"You look formidable tonight, Katarina," Antoine said, his eyes lingering on the emeralds. "Like a storm waiting to break."

"The storm has already broken, Antoine. I'm just the aftermath."

He chuckled and moved on. I took a glass of sparkling water, scanning the room.

That was when I smelled it. Synthetic vanilla.

Aria appeared from behind a pillar near the terrace doors. She wasn't wearing white tonight. She was wearing gold. It was flashy, tight, and completely inappropriate for a summit of this caliber.

She waved me over.

I shouldn't have gone. But the smirk on her face suggested she held a knife, and I needed to know how sharp it was.

I walked to the secluded corner, my cane-a sleek ebony stick I used for my healing leg-clicking softly on the marble.

"What do you want, Aria?" I asked. "Is your allowance gone already?"

"You think you're so smart," Aria hissed, her voice dropping the sweet act. "Freezing the accounts. Recording my calls."

My heart skipped a beat. She knew about the bugs? No, she was guessing. She was fishing.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, keeping my face blank.

"It doesn't matter," she said. She pulled a phone out of her clutch. "Because I have something that trumps money."

She tapped the screen and shoved it in my face.

The video was grainy, shot in low light. It was from two years ago.

It was me.

I was in the master bedroom, curled on the floor, sweating, my hair matted to my forehead. I was in Heat.

The biological Heat is a sacred, agonizing time for a female wolf. It is when our bodies demand a mate to breed. It strips away logic and leaves only raw, aching need. It is private. It is holy. It is meant only for the eyes of a Fated Mate.

In the video, I was reaching out to the person holding the camera.

"Please," the video-Katarina moaned, her voice broken and desperate. "Alessandro... please... it hurts. Just touch me. Please."

The camera shook as Alessandro laughed. Not now, Katarina. You look ridiculous.

Aria pulled the phone back. She was grinning.

"Imagine," she whispered, leaning in. "The Ice Queen, the perfect Luna, begging like a common bitch in heat. What would the Elders think? What would the press say?"

The blood drained from my face. My hands turned to ice.

"He gave that to you?" I whispered. "That is... that is a violation of the Mate Bond."

Sharing images of a mate's Heat was a crime in the old laws. It was the ultimate betrayal of intimacy.

"He thinks it's funny," Aria shrugged. "He showed it to me the first night we slept together. Said he wanted me to see what a 'desperate' woman looked like."

She checked her nails. "Here is the deal. You go to the podium tonight. You announce that your health is failing. You step down as Luna. You name me as your successor."

"You are insane," I breathed.

"You have five minutes," she said, tapping her watch. "Or I send this to every tabloid in the city."

I looked across the room. Alessandro was laughing with a group of Betas, holding a drink. He looked over, saw Aria cornering me, and quickly looked away.

He knew.

He wasn't just letting it happen. He had armed her.

The pain in my chest wasn't heartbreak anymore. It was the sensation of a chain snapping.

My wolf, Winter, stood up in the back of my mind. She shook off her slumber. She threw back her head and let out a soundless roar that vibrated through my very bones.

No more, Winter growled.

"Five minutes," Aria repeated.

I looked at her. I looked at the phone.

"No," I said.

Katarina POV:

Aria blinked. "What?"

"I said no."

"I'll ruin you!" she shrieked. "Everyone will see you begging!"

"Let them see," I said, my voice trembling not with fear, but with rage. "Let them see what kind of man films his suffering wife instead of holding her."

I didn't wait for her response. I raised my hand and slapped her.

It wasn't a polite slap. It was a Luna's strike. My palm connected with her cheekbone with a crack that echoed over the gentle string quartet music.

Aria flew backward, crashing into a waiter carrying a tray of champagne. Glass shattered. Liquid sprayed everywhere.

The music stopped. The room went dead silent.

Aria lay on the floor, clutching her face. Blood trickled from her lip.

"She hit me!" Aria screamed, pointing a shaking finger at me. "The Luna is crazy! She attacked me!"

Alessandro came running. Of course he did.

He pushed through the crowd, looking from me to the weeping Rogue on the floor.

"Katarina!" he roared, his Alpha voice booming. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Ask her what she showed me, Alessandro," I said, my voice cold steel. "Ask her about the video."

Alessandro paled. He knew exactly what I meant. For a second, I saw shame in his eyes.

But then he looked at Aria, sobbing on the floor, looking small and broken. The Savior Complex took over.

"You are out of control," he spat at me. "Apologize."

"Never."

Suddenly, the massive screen behind the main stage flickered. The logo of the Summit disappeared.

Static buzzed through the speakers.

"Oh no," Aria whispered, her eyes widening. She hadn't sent it. She was still holding her phone.

But someone else had.

The video played.

It was massive. Ten feet high. My face, twisted in the agony of Heat, filled the room. My voice, begging for my husband, echoed off the walls.

Please... Alessandro... it hurts...

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Wolves covered their mouths. This was taboo. This was like broadcasting a surgery or a prayer. It was deeply, violently private.

I stood frozen. I felt naked. I felt the eyes of three hundred wolves stripping me bare.

Alessandro stood there, watching the screen. He didn't move to cut the power. He didn't roar in anger. He just watched, a flicker of twisted satisfaction on his face. See? his expression said. Now you are humble.

I couldn't breathe. The shame was a physical weight, crushing my lungs.

Then, the air changed.

A scent hit me. It wasn't vanilla or musk. It was ozone. Rain on hot asphalt. The smell of a hurricane making landfall.

CRASH.

A heavy oak chair sailed through the air. It smashed into the center of the LED screen, shattering the panels.

The video died in a shower of sparks and broken plastic.

A growl erupted from the back of the room. It was so deep, so primal, that the glass in the windows rattled.

A man stormed onto the stage.

He was huge. Taller than Alessandro. Broader. He wore a black suit that strained against his muscles. His hair was dark, his eyes the color of molten amber.

Julian Moreau. The Alpha of the Northern Pack. Our enemy.

He stood in front of me, placing his massive body between me and the crowd. He faced the room, his lips pulled back to reveal elongated canines.

"If anyone," Julian roared, his voice layered with a power that made the floorboards vibrate, "looks at her again, I will gouge their eyes out!"

The silence was absolute. Even the other Alphas shrank back. This was a threat from a predator who had no leash.

Julian turned to me.

For the first time, our eyes met.

ZAP.

It wasn't a spark. It was a lightning strike. The moment I looked into his amber eyes, the world tilted. My heart slammed against my ribs-thump-thump-thump-so hard it hurt.

My wolf, Winter, lunged against my ribcage. MATE! she howled. MATE!

I gasped, staggering back. It couldn't be. I was married. I was bonded.

But the scent... the storm and sandalwood... it flooded my senses, drowning out the shame, drowning out the pain. It felt like coming home.

Julian didn't touch me. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. It was warm and smelled like him.

"Can you walk?" he asked, his voice rough but incredibly gentle.

I nodded, mute.

He wrapped an arm around my waist-not touching skin, just the fabric-and practically lifted me off the ground.

"We are leaving," he announced to the room.

He walked me through the crowd. People parted like the Red Sea.

Alessandro stood in our path, his mouth open, his face a mask of shock.

Julian didn't even slow down. He shouldered Alessandro aside with enough force to make my husband stumble.

We walked out into the cool night air, leaving the wreckage of my reputation behind.