Kenia POV:

The laughter eventually faded, along with the roar of the jeep's engine. They left me there.

Holden had thrown a plastic card down before he left—my ID badge. It fluttered down like a dead leaf, landing in the mud a few feet away.

"Find your own way back, stray!" Estella had screeched.

I climbed off the safety airbag, my limbs shaking from the adrenaline crash. The wind on the cliffside was biting, cutting through my thin blouse. It began to rain—a cold, miserable drizzle that soaked me to the bone.

I picked up the ID card. Mud smeared Holden's face on the hologram. I wiped it on my jeans.

I walked.

It took me four hours to hike back to the main road. My shoes were ruined. My hands were scraped and bleeding from climbing the embankment.

I found a small bus shelter near the territory border. I huddled in the corner, shivering violently. The physical trauma of the miscarriage was still fresh, and the cold was making the lingering cramps feel like knives.

My phone buzzed. It was Gael.

"Location," the text read.

I sent him the GPS pin.

One week, he replied. I cannot enter Silver Lake territory without declaring war until the Council meets next Tuesday. Can you survive?

I have to, I typed back.

A black sedan pulled up ten minutes later. It wasn't Gael. It was a Beta woman with kind eyes and a sharp business suit. Sarah, Holden's secretary. She was the only one besides Evans who didn't treat me like dirt.

"Get in, Kenia," she whispered, looking around nervously.

I climbed in. The heat was on. It felt like heaven.

"He... he told everyone you got lost during the drill," Sarah said, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. She reached into her purse and handed me a packet of dried venison jerky. "Eat. You look like a ghost."

I took the meat. I felt like a beggar. "Thank you, Sarah."

"He's crazy, Kenia. The power... it's gone to his head."

She dropped me off at the back entrance of the clinic. I collapsed before I could make it to my room.

When I woke up, the smell of antiseptic filled my nose. And something else. A cloying, expensive cologne.

Holden.

I opened my eyes. He was sitting in the chair next to my bed, looking annoyingly fresh in a crisp suit. He held a basket of fruit.

"You're awake," he said, smiling as if he hadn't pushed me off a cliff yesterday. "You really are dramatic, Kenia. Passing out from a little hike?"

I stared at him. The hate in my chest was so cold it burned. "You pushed me."

"It was a joke," he dismissed, waving his hand. "A prank. The boys were blowing off steam. Don't be such a buzzkill."

He leaned forward, his eyes flashing amber—his wolf pushing to the surface. "And you will not tell anyone otherwise. Do you understand? If anyone asks, you slipped during a perimeter check and I saved you."

He used the Alpha's Command again. It pressed down on my tongue, sealing my throat.

"Nod," he ordered.

I nodded stiffly, fighting the urge to vomit.

"Good girl." He picked up an apple from the basket and began to peel it with a small silver pocket knife. "You need to get your strength up. The Charity Gala is tonight. You're coming."

"I... can't," I rasped.

"You are. Estella needs someone to hold her train, and you know the layout of the venue better than anyone. You designed it, didn't you?"

He sliced a piece of apple and held it to my lips.

"Eat."

I looked at the apple. "I'm allergic to apples, Holden."

He paused, the slice hovering near my mouth. He blinked, genuinely confused. "What? No, you're not. Estella loves apples."

"I am not Estella," I whispered.

He stared at me for a moment, then shrugged and tossed the slice into the trash. "Whatever. Just get ready. Be downstairs in an hour. And Kenia?"

He stood up, towering over me.

"Don't embarrass me. Or I'll make sure the funding for Elder Evans's care gets cut off. I hear life support is expensive."

He walked out, leaving the door open.

He knew exactly where to hit.

I slowly sat up. My body screamed in protest. I walked to the mirror. My face was pale, my eyes hollow. I looked like a corpse.

Good, I thought. Let them see a corpse.

Kenia POV:

The Charity Gala was a display of obscene wealth. Chandeliers dripped with crystals, and the air smelled of champagne and expensive perfume.

I stood in the shadows near the back, wearing a simple black dress that Sarah had found for me. It was the color of mourning.

Holden and Estella were on the stage. Estella wore the red gown I had designed. It was supposed to symbolize passion and vitality. On her, it looked like spilled blood.

"We are so grateful," Estella cooed into the microphone, flashing a dazzling smile. "When I designed the new shelter blueprints, I just knew we had to do more for the pups."

The crowd applauded politely. Flashbulbs popped.

She was taking credit for my work. Again.

"And," Holden added, his arm around her waist, "we are dedicating this night to our beloved Elder Evans, whose vision guided Estella's hand."

A low murmur went through the crowd.

I saw a group of Omega servers in the corner. They were looking at me with sad, sympathetic eyes. They knew who really did the work. But they couldn't speak. Omegas had no voice in the Silver Lake Pack.

Holden stepped down from the stage, dragging Estella with him. They moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations.

Holden spotted me. He steered Estella over, his grip on her possessive.

"You look like a funeral attendant," he hissed in my ear, using his superior hearing so no one else could hear. "Smile, damn it."

"Where is the credit?" I asked, my voice steady. "I drew those plans. I stayed up for three weeks."

"You're an Omega," Holden scoffed. "Nobody cares what you draw. Estella is the future Luna. She needs the image. You exist to support her. That is your purpose."

"My purpose?"

"Yes. To be useful. Don't think just because I slept with you that you're special. You were a convenience."

The words hung in the air between us.

"Holden!" A reporter pushed forward. "A photo with the happy couple!"

Holden beamed, turning his charm on instantly.

I stepped into the frame.

"Get out," Holden gritted through his teeth, still smiling for the camera.

"No," I said loudly.

The music seemed to stop. The nearby guests turned.

"What am I to you, Holden?" I asked, my voice ringing clear in the sudden silence.

Holden's smile twitched. "Kenia, you're drunk. Go to your room."

"I'm not drunk. I'm waking up." I reached into my purse and pulled out the 'Chosen Mate Contract'—the document we had signed three years ago. It wasn't legally binding without a Marking, but it was a promise.

"You promised me a family," I said. "You promised me a future. Instead, you gave me nothing but pain."

Gasps rippled through the room.

"She's hysterical!" Estella shrieked. "Security!"

"I reject this," I said. I ripped the paper in half. Then in quarters. I threw the confetti of our relationship into his face. "I am done being your shadow."

Holden's face turned purple with rage. "You reject nothing! You belong to this Pack! You belong to me!"

He grabbed my wrist. His grip was bruising.

"Take her to the East Wing," Holden barked at his guards. "Lock her in. No food. No water. Until she learns to heel."

Two massive warrior wolves grabbed me. I didn't fight. I let them drag me away, my head held high.

As they hauled me out of the ballroom, I saw Estella smirking.

But I also saw something else. The Omegas. The servers, the cleaners. They weren't looking at the floor anymore. They were looking at me. And in their eyes, there was a spark of anger.

They threw me into a guest room in the East Wing and locked the door.

I went to the window. It was barred.

But they forgot one thing. I had fixed this wing last year. I knew the ventilation shaft behind the heavy wardrobe was loose.

I waited until the moon was high.

My phone buzzed. A message from Sarah.

"Evans... he didn't make it, Kenia. He passed away an hour ago. They're burying him at dawn. Pauper's field. They aren't even giving him an Elder's rite."

That was the final insult.

I pushed the heavy wardrobe aside, my muscles screaming. I unscrewed the vent cover with the nail file from my purse.

I crawled into the dark, dusty tunnel.

I'm coming, Evans, I thought. And then, I'm gone.

Kenia POV:

The graveyard was shrouded in mist. It was dawn, the sun a pale, sickly bruise on the horizon.

I hid behind a large oak tree, watching.

They hadn't even given him a ceremony. Just a hole in the ground in the "Unranked" section—the muddy corner reserved for Omegas and criminals. Elder Evans, who had served three generations of Alphas, was being discarded like trash.

Only a few people were there. Sarah. The orphanage cook. A few old wolves.

Holden wasn't there. Estella wasn't there.

I waited until they left. Then I stepped out of the shadows.

I knelt by the fresh mound of dirt. I didn't have flowers. I placed the shredded remains of my white dress on the grave.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, pressing my hand into the cold earth. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you."

"Touching."

I froze.

Estella stepped out from behind a mausoleum. She was wearing a black fur coat, looking immaculate and cruel. She held a small gift box.

"You escaped," she noted, looking bored. "Holden is furious. He's tearing the estate apart."

"Let me leave, Estella. You have him. You won."

"Oh, I know I won." She tossed the box at me. It landed in the mud. "A little parting gift. From Holden. He signed the card."

I opened the box.

Inside lay a dead rat. Its neck was snapped.

"He said it reminds him of you," Estella laughed. "Small. Dirty. Vermin."

Something inside me snapped. Not a bone, but a chain.

A low growl vibrated in my chest. It wasn't the submissive whimper of an Omega. It was deep, resonant, and dangerous.

Estella took a step back, her smile faltering. "What... what was that?"

I looked up. My vision shifted. The world became sharper, the colors more vivid. I felt a surge of power in my veins that I had never felt before.

"Tell Holden," I said, my voice sounding like two voices layered over each other—human and wolf, "that he should have checked the trap before he taunted the prey."

Estella hissed. "You're a freak! No wonder your parents abandoned you!"

"Estella!"

Holden's voice boomed across the cemetery. He was storming toward us, flanked by his grandmother, Annabella.

Annabella was a withered, hateful woman who clung to the old ways. She looked at me with pure disgust.

"So this is the mongrel causing all the trouble," Annabella spat. "Look at her. Filthy. Why haven't you banished her yet, grandson?"

"She has her uses," Holden said, eyeing me. He looked tired, manic. "Kenia, come back to the house. Now."

"No."

"You want to be stubborn?" Holden sneered. "Fine. You want to be part of the wedding? You can be."

He turned to Estella. "Make her the bridesmaid."

Estella's eyes lit up. "Oh, perfect! In our tradition, the Omega bridesmaid kneels at the altar to hold the Luna's train off the floor. She can be my footstool."

"Did you hear that, Kenia?" Holden asked, stepping closer. "You can attend the wedding. On your knees. Where you belong."

I looked at the fresh grave of Elder Evans. I looked at the dead rat. I looked at the man I had once thought I loved.

If I ran now, they would hunt me down before I reached the border. I needed a distraction. I needed the chaos of the wedding.

I needed to buy time for Gael.

I lowered my eyes, hiding the silver flash that was pulsing in my irises.

"Okay," I whispered.

Holden exhaled, looking triumphant. "See, Grandmother? She knows her place."

"Good," Annabella sniffed. "Clean her up. She smells like death."

Holden grabbed my arm. "Tomorrow, Kenia. You watch me marry a real woman. And then, maybe, if you're good... I'll keep you as a mistress. Paris, remember? I can still send you there."

He really believed that. He believed he could break me, humiliate me, and then buy me.

I let him drag me back to the car.

Tomorrow, my wolf whispered in my mind, speaking for the first time since the fall. Her voice was strong, ancient, and terrifying.

Tomorrow, we burn their world down.