Ava POV:

The dress was a modified Omega uniform—cheap polyester that smelled of industrial detergent.

"Perfect," Chloe sneered, adjusting the diamond tiara. She wore the Luna’s ceremonial silver robes. "You’ll walk three paces behind me. Serve drinks. Don't speak."

I felt the weight of the silver bracelet hidden under my sleeve. It kept my White Wolf sedated, barely a whisper in my mind.

"Let's go," Liam muttered.

The Full Moon Charity Gala was packed. The ballroom smelled of roasted venison and power.

As we entered, whispers followed us.

"Is that Ava Mitchell?"

"Dressed like a maid. How the mighty have fallen."

I kept my chin high. I took a tray of champagne.

"Champagne, Alpha?" I asked a visiting leader.

He looked at me, intrigued. "You smell... interesting. Like ozone and snow. Why is a wolf with your aura serving drinks?"

"Politics."

He took a glass, fingers brushing mine. "If Blackwood doesn't appreciate you, my pack is hiring."

Across the room, Liam stiffened. His head snapped toward us like a whip.

I moved on. Despite the dress, despite the silver, I wasn't invisible. Male wolves turned to watch.

Chloe noticed. Her smile faltered as a young Beta asked me to dance.

"I... I shouldn't," I feigned shyness.

"One dance," the Beta insisted.

As we spun, Liam marched across the floor. Possessiveness darkened his face. He shoved the Beta aside.

"She's working," Liam growled.

The Beta backed off. "Easy, Alpha."

Liam grabbed my arm, dragging me to the shadows.

"You are enjoying this," he hissed. "Flaunting yourself."

"I was serving drinks, Liam."

"You are mine," he snarled. "You don't dance with other males."

"I'm yours?" I laughed, a hollow sound. "You never marked me. You never claimed me. You let Chloe wear my robes. I belong to no one."

"You belong to the pack!"

Chloe appeared, breathless. "Liam! People are staring. Why are you talking to the help?"

Liam released me like I was burning him.

"Get out of here," he commanded. "Back to the kitchen."

I smoothed my dress. As I turned, I brushed past Chloe. With a sleight of hand learned from a pickpocket client, I dusted microscopic tracking powder onto her hem.

"Enjoy your night, Luna," I whispered.

I walked away. He thought he had won. He didn't know I was mapping the battlefield.

Ava POV:

Two days later, Liam dragged me to a private clinic.

"What is this?"

"Council required health screening," Liam lied. "To ensure you aren't carrying... diseases. From your time as a Rogue."

I had been a Rogue for forty-eight hours.

The doctor was a weasel on the Vanderbilt payroll. He performed the exam roughly.

Half an hour later, Liam stormed in, throwing a paper at me.

REPORT: SUBJECT SHOWS SIGNS OF MULTIPLE PARTNERS.

"It's fake," I said calmly.

"Don't lie to me!" Liam punched the wall. "You've been whoring yourself out! That's why your scent changed to ozone!"

"That is my scent, Liam. You just never bothered to learn it."

"You are confined to the penthouse," he declared. "Indefinitely."

He clamped a new silver bracelet around my ankle. This one was heavy duty. It sizzled against my skin, a constant, low-grade torture.

"You stay here. Think about your sins."

I sat on the floor for three days. I focused on the pain, using it as fuel.

On the fourth morning, Eleanor, Liam's mother, walked in with Chloe.

"Get up," Eleanor commanded.

"Chloe and Liam are having their official bonding ceremony tonight," Eleanor said. "You will be Chloe's bridesmaid. To stop the gossip."

"I'd rather be dead."

"If you don't," Chloe smiled, "Liam will move your father's grave to the pauper's field. The one that floods."

My blood ran cold. Desecration of ancestors was the ultimate threat.

"Fine."

"Good." Eleanor pointed to a garment bag. "The car leaves in ten minutes."

They left.

I looked at the silver bracelet. I looked at the window.

'Not today,' my wolf whispered. 'Today, we break.'

I closed my eyes, reaching past the pain, tapping into the White Wolf lineage. I grabbed the silver bracelet with both hands. My skin smoked. The smell of burning flesh filled the room.

I screamed silently, pouring ancient strength into my fingers.

'Crack.'

The metal snapped.

I threw it across the room. My leg healed instantly.

I grabbed my duffel bag and burner phone.

'To: Nyx'

'Message: DESTROY BLACKWOOD. NOW.'

I fried the electronic lock with a pulse of energy and walked out the back exit.

Free.

Liam POV:

The ceremony cost three million dollars. White roses, silver ribbons, and a suffocating sense of dread.

I stood at the altar. Chloe walked down the aisle. She looked beautiful, I told myself. The perfect, docile Luna.

But my eyes kept darting behind her.

Where was the bridesmaid?

Ava was supposed to be carrying the train. Her final submission.

But the space was empty.

A murmur went through the crowd.

As Chloe reached the altar, the scent hit me. Or rather, the lack of it. The air was sterile.

"Do you, Liam Vanderbilt..."

My wolf let out a high-pitched whine. Mourning.

"Liam?" Chloe whispered.

"Where is she?" I asked loudly.

"She... she must be sick," Chloe stammered.

I looked at Chloe. Then I saw the image of Ava in the fire.

"I can't do this."

"What?" Chloe shrieked.

I ran. I ignored the Elders. I shifted mid-stride, shredding my tuxedo, sprinting toward the city.

I burst into the penthouse.

"Ava!"

Silence.

I ran to the bedroom. The dress was on the bed. On the floor lay the broken silver ankle monitor.

Broken silver. Impossible.

I fell to my knees, pressing my nose into the carpet. Her scent was fading.

The bond—that thin thread I had ignored—was gone. She hadn't just run. She had severed us.

I let out a howl that shook the glass walls.