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.

Kenia POV:

The morning of the wedding was a cacophony of hairspray, screaming bridesmaids, and the cloying scent of lilies.

I moved through the Silver Lake estate like a ghost. I was the perfect servant. I steamed the silk robes. I fetched the mimosas. I lowered my head whenever anyone looked at me.

"Kenia!" Estella snapped, throwing a makeup brush at the vanity mirror. "This eyeliner is uneven. Fix it. You're an artist, aren't you? Make me look like a Luna."

"Yes, Estella," I said softly.

I picked up the brush. My hand was steady. I didn't tremble. I didn't cry. The part of me that used to care about their insults had died in the cemetery yesterday.

Holden walked in a moment later. He looked dashing in his tuxedo, the Silver Lake crest embroidered in silver thread on his lapel. He smelled of expensive musk and arrogance.

He walked up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders while I worked on Estella's face.

"See?" he murmured, leaning close to my ear. "You fit in so well, Kenia. Everyone has a place in the pack. This is yours."

He squeezed my shoulder, a possessive gesture. He truly believed he had won. He thought he had broken me into the perfect, obedient mistress.

"Holden, stop touching the help," Estella complained, batting his hand away. "Go get ready. The ceremony starts in an hour."

Holden laughed. "Alright, alright. Kenia, where is my phone? I need to check the security feeds."

"It's on the dresser," I said.

He picked it up and frowned. "It's locked. You changed the passcode last month when you were 'cleaning up' my digital files. What is it?"

I looked at him in the mirror. "It's my birthday, Holden."

He paused. His thumb hovered over the screen. He blinked, his brow furrowing.

"Right," he muttered. "Of course."

He didn't know it.

Three years. He didn't know my birthday.

"0-5-2-1," I whispered.

He typed it in. The phone unlocked. "Got it. I'll see you at the altar, ladies. Kenia, don't forget to hold the train high. I don't want mud on the silk."

He left.

Estella shooed me away ten minutes later. "Go put on your bridesmaid dress. The ugly beige one. And don't be late."

I went to my room.

The beige dress hung on the door. I ignored it.

I changed into jeans and a black hoodie. I grabbed my backpack, which contained only my passport and the locket from Elder Evans.

I took the photo of Holden and me from the nightstand—the one taken three years ago, when his eyes were kind and I was foolish. I took a lighter from my pocket.

I watched the flame curl the edges, turning his smiling face into ash. I dropped it into the metal trash can and watched it burn until nothing was left but grey dust.

I checked my watch. The ceremony was starting. The guards would be at the perimeter of the ceremonial grounds, distracted by the Alpha Heir's grand entrance.

I walked to the back service door of the kitchen.

A black SUV was waiting in the alleyway. The windows were tinted so dark they looked like oil spills. The license plate read: ALPHA-01.

The back door opened.

I didn't look back at the mansion. I didn't look back at the room where I had cried over a lost baby.

I slid into the leather seat.

The door closed with a heavy, solid thud, sealing out the noise of the Silver Lake pack.

The air inside the car was cool and smelled... incredible.

It hit me like a physical wave. Pine needles crushed underfoot in a winter forest. Rain on hot asphalt. And something darker, like storm clouds gathering over the ocean.

It was the scent of power.

"Drive," a deep voice commanded from the seat next to me.

I looked over. Gael, the Alpha King of the Dark Moon Pack, sat there. He was wearing a dark grey suit, no tie. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass, and his eyes were the color of molten steel.

He didn't look at me. He was looking at a tablet mounted on the back of the driver's seat.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was rough, vibrating in the small space.

"I'm alive," I said. My hands were shaking. Now that I was actually leaving, the adrenaline was crashing. "Did... did anyone see us?"

"No one sees me unless I want them to," Gael said.

He reached out. His hand was large, his fingers long and calloused. He didn't grab me. He just laid his hand over my trembling ones on my lap.

A jolt of electricity shot up my arm. It wasn't painful. It was warm. Comforting.

And then, the scent intensified. He was releasing Calming Pheromones.

In our world, Alphas can use their scent to intimidate or to soothe. Holden used his to suffocate me. Gael's scent wrapped around me like a heavy, protective blanket. My heart rate slowed instantly. My wolf, who had been hiding in the dark, peeked one eye open.

"Look," Gael said, pointing at the tablet.

It was a live stream of the wedding.

Holden was standing at the altar, looking handsome and fake. The music swelled.

"He's waiting for you," Gael said quietly. "He thinks you're coming to kneel."

"He's going to be waiting a long time," I whispered.

The car accelerated, speeding away from the territory. I watched the screen. I watched the life I was supposed to have.

And as the Silver Lake estate disappeared into the distance, for the first time in days, I took a full breath.