Isla POV

He stared down at me, his chest heaving with arrogant indignation, waiting for the tears and submission he believed he was owed.

I didn't give him the satisfaction. Instead, I let out a soft, humorless laugh that echoed in the dim Luna's Suite.

"A Gamma aura?" I repeated, my voice dropping to a deadly calm. "Justin, you speak of strength, yet you are blind to the reality of your own Pack. Bloodfang is a hollow shell."

His eyes narrowed. "Watch your mouth, Isla."

"Or what?" I challenged, remaining seated but projecting a stillness that made his Inner Wolf twitch. "Will you cut off my funds? Oh, wait. You can't. Your Pack's vault couldn't even produce a hundred thousand dollars if your life depended on it. For the past year, I have been the one keeping this estate from crumbling. I am the one paying for the food on your Warriors' tables."

I tilted my head, locking eyes with him. "And your mother, Luna Bertha? Those Lycanthrope Elixirs from Doctor Fritz Klein cost ten thousand dollars a pill. My dowry paid for every single one of them to keep her failing heart beating."

Justin's face flushed a dark, ugly red. His Alpha pride, fragile and unearned, shattered against the cold, hard truth.

"You dare throw your money in my face?" he snarled, his voice vibrating with a pathetic attempt at an Alpha's Command—which washed over my dormant White Wolf like a light breeze. "I am the Alpha! I am informing you of a Royal Decree, not asking for your permission. Brenna is moving in, and that is final."

He spun on his heel and stormed out, slamming the heavy oak door behind him. The suffocating reek of cheap spices and metallic blood trailed after him like a plague.

As his footsteps faded down the hall, the fragile mate-bond in my chest gave a pathetic, dying throb. But deep within my soul, my White Wolf let out a low, rumbling scoff of pure disdain. He wasn't worthy of us.

A soft sniffle broke the silence. Effa Rose, my loyal wolfless maid, slipped out from the shadows of the adjoining dressing room. Her round face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and swollen.

"Oh, My Lady," she wept, dropping to her knees beside my chair. "How could the Alpha be so cruel? After everything you've done for this Pack..."

"Do not call him that, Effa," I said quietly, my voice devoid of the sorrow she expected.

I reached up, brushing my fingertips against the smooth, unblemished skin of my neck. "He is no true mate of mine."

Effa blinked through her tears, staring at my neck. "But... the Moon Goddess..."

"A year of marriage," I murmured, my eyes turning cold. "And he never gave me his Marking. Our bond was never sealed. He is nothing to me now."

Effa choked on a sob. "But your mother's dying wish... she wanted you safe here, hidden away from the wars."

The mention of my mother sent a violent jolt through my mind. In a flash, the opulent walls of the Luna's Suite melted away, replaced by the burning ruins of the Silvermoon Pack. I could smell the suffocating stench of Rogues, the metallic tang of fresh blood, and the searing, unnatural burn of Silver weapons. I saw my father, Alpha Arthur Crawford, and my brothers, their bodies torn apart defending our home. My mother's desperate, tear-soaked face flashed before me, forcing me to hide my White Wolf bloodline just to survive.

The memory didn't bring tears; it brought a lethal, icy clarity.

I was done hiding. I was done playing the weak, wolfless victim for a Pack of leeches.

I reached out and firmly tapped Effa's forehead, snapping her out of her crying fit.

"Safety is an illusion, Effa," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Dry your tears and go to my private vault."

"M-My Lady?" she stammered, rubbing her forehead.

"Bring me the Dowry Ledger," I commanded, standing up to my full height. "Every last cent of the ten million dollars I brought to this pathetic Pack is leaving with me."

Isla POV

The heavy leather-bound Dowry Ledger hit the mahogany table with a solid thud, accompanied by a locked wooden box containing my land deeds and bank certificates.

Effa Rose stood trembling beside the table, her round face pale. As a wolfless maid, the world outside the Pack borders was nothing but a death sentence to her. "My Lady," she whispered, her voice cracking. "If we leave... where will we go? What if we become Rogues? We have no Warriors to protect us."

At the word *Rogues*, a phantom scent of rotting flesh and metallic blood filled my nose. My mind violently dragged me back to the ruins of the Silvermoon Pack—the torn bodies of my brothers, the lifeless eyes of my father. Deep within my soul, my dormant White Wolf let out a low, resonant growl. It wasn't a sound of fear; it was a vow of absolute, unyielding resolve.

I reached out and gently squeezed Effa's trembling shoulder. "Anywhere is better than a Pack that reeks of betrayal, Effa. But do not worry. We are not sneaking out into the woods like banished criminals."

She looked up, wiping her red eyes. "Then how?"

"I am the daughter of Alpha Arthur Crawford," I said, my voice steady and cold as ice. "My father bled for this kingdom. I will not let Justin Hayes discard me in the shadows. We are going to the Royal Capital. I will demand an audience with Alpha King Adrian Reynolds, and I will Accept the Rejection in front of the King himself. I will sever this bond legally, publicly, and I am taking every last cent of my ten million dollars with me."

Effa gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, but the sheer terror in her eyes slowly morphed into a glimmer of awe.

By the time evening fell, the sky outside the window had turned the color of bruised blood, and a bitter autumn wind rattled the glass panes. A sharp knock interrupted the silence. Gilda Brock, Bertha's maid, stood in the doorway, reeking of cheap face powder.

"Luna Bertha requests your presence in her quarters," Gilda announced, her chin tilted up with unearned arrogance.

I didn't bother replying. I simply walked past her, my posture perfectly straight.

The moment I stepped into Luna Bertha's quarters, the suffocating scent of decaying leaves—Bertha's natural scent—mixed with the heavy, bitter stench of medicinal herbs assaulted my senses.

The room was crowded. Brent Hayes, Justin's older brother, stood near the wall, his weak Inner Wolf practically invisible. Beside him was his wife, Amanda, a timid Omega who kept her eyes glued to the floor. Sitting on the velvet sofa was Kaci, Justin's sixteen-year-old sister. Having just experienced her first Shift, she radiated the sour scent of unripe fruit and glared at me with newfound, puffed-up arrogance.

Only Elder Alda, the matriarch of the second branch, sat quietly in the corner. Her cold mint scent was completely detached, her sharp eyes observing the room with silent disdain.

Bertha was propped up against a mountain of pillows on her massive bed. Her skin was sallow, her hands resembling skeletal claws. Yet, she forced a sickeningly sweet smile as I approached.

"Isla, my dear," Bertha croaked, reaching out to grab my hand.

I let her take it, feeling the cold, greedy clamminess of her skin. She needed me. Or rather, she needed my dowry to keep buying those ten-thousand-dollar Lycanthrope Elixirs to keep her failing heart beating.

"I know Justin's news must have been a shock," Bertha began, her tone dripping with fake sympathy. "But you must be reasonable, child. With the Silvermoon Pack gone... a wolfless girl like you has no backing. You need the protection of the Bloodfang Pack to survive. Justin is an Alpha; he needs a strong warrior by his side. You must be generous and welcome Brenna. It is for the greater good of our family."

My White Wolf gagged in absolute disgust. They really thought I was a pathetic, helpless orphan clinging to their scraps. They thought they could use my slaughtered family as a weapon to force me into submission.

I didn't cry. I didn't lower my head.

Instead, I smoothly and firmly pulled my hand out of Bertha's skeletal grip. The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

I looked down at her, my expression entirely unreadable. "Tell me, Bertha," I said, my voice cutting through the heavy silence like a silver blade. "Have you already met Gamma Brenna in private?"

Bertha's fake, motherly smile instantly froze. She was completely caught off guard by the direct, razor-sharp question.

"I... well, I..." Bertha stammered, her eyes darting nervously toward Brent and Kaci. She cleared her throat, trying to recover her poise. "She is a bit rough around the edges, of course. She lacks the proper etiquette of a noble Luna, but her military merits—"

She was already making excuses for the woman who was supposed to replace me. The sheer audacity of this family was almost laughable.

Isla POV

"She lacks the proper etiquette of a noble Luna, but her military merits—" Bertha stammered, before abruptly clearing her throat. She forced her posture upright against the mountain of pillows, trying to project an authority she no longer possessed.

"The Alpha King himself issued a Royal Decree, Isla," Bertha continued, her tone shifting from fake sympathy to a thinly veiled command. "You cannot fight the King's will. Justin and Brenna will be Co-Lunas. There is no hierarchy between you two. You will continue to manage the Pack's internal affairs and finances, while she handles the military. It is a perfect balance."

*Manage the finances?* She meant *fund* the Pack with my ten-million-dollar dowry.

Deep within my soul, my White Wolf let out a vicious, mocking snarl. A mate-bond was sacred, forged by the Moon Goddess herself. There was no such thing as sharing an Alpha. They were trying to dress up Justin's betrayal as a noble sacrifice, all while keeping their greedy claws buried deep in my pockets.

"A perfect balance," I repeated, my voice devoid of any warmth. I stood perfectly still in the fading evening light, my eyes locking onto Bertha's. "If Gamma Brenna is to be Luna, then she and Justin can bear the full weight of this Pack. Tomorrow morning, I will hand over the Pack's ledger and the estate keys to Amanda."

Amanda, standing quietly by the wall, gasped loudly. Her timid Omega wolf shrank, and her bitter coptis scent spiked with sheer terror.

"M-Me? No, Isla, I can't!" Amanda panicked, her eyes darting wildly between me and Bertha. "The vault... there isn't even a hundred thousand dollars in there! How will we pay the Warriors? How will we afford Mother's Lycanthrope Elixirs?"

Bertha's face twisted into an ugly, dark sneer. The illusion of the loving mother-in-law vanished completely. "You selfish, narrow-minded girl!" she hissed, pointing a trembling, skeletal finger at me. "Is this how a true Luna acts? Jealous and petty? You are unworthy of an Alpha's mate-bond!"

The exertion was too much for her failing heart. Bertha hunched over, hacking violently, her chest heaving as she gasped for air.

"Don't you dare speak to my mother like that!"

Kaci marched forward, her round face flushed a violent red. Having just experienced her first Shift, she reeked of sour, unripe fruit. She puffed out her chest, trying to project her newly awakened Inner Wolf's dominance to intimidate me.

"You're just a wolfless orphan!" Kaci spat, her eyes glaring with unearned arrogance. "The Silvermoon Pack is dead! You should be begging us to let you stay. When Justin gets back, he's going to Reject you and throw you out to the Rogues!"

I slowly turned my gaze to the sixteen-year-old girl. I didn't yell. I didn't Shift. But deep within my core, I let a fraction of my ancient, dormant White Wolf aura slip through my icy stare.

Kaci's eyes widened. She instinctively took a step back, her fragile new wolf whimpering in sudden, inexplicable terror beneath her skin.

"Throw me out?" I tilted my head, my eyes raking over her trembling form. "Before you threaten me with the Rogues, Kaci, I suggest you take off that apricot-yellow couture gown."

Kaci blinked, entirely thrown off balance. "W-What?"

"And the pearl necklace," I continued, my voice ringing with absolute, razor-sharp authority. "And the diamond earrings. Every thread on your back, every jewel on your skin, was paid for by my dowry. Take them off. Return them to my quarters by tonight."

"You can't do that!" Kaci shrieked, her face burning with profound humiliation.

"I just did," I replied coldly. "I will not have my family's wealth draped over an ungrateful pup."

Kaci trembled with rage, tears of fury welling in her eyes. "Fine! I'll throw them at your face!" she screamed, though she didn't dare step any closer to me.

The room descended into a suffocating, tense silence. Brent stared at the floor, Amanda was practically shaking, and Bertha was still coughing weakly against her pillows.

Only Elder Alda, sitting quietly in the corner, allowed a faint, mocking smile to touch her lips. Her cold mint scent remained entirely undisturbed as she watched the main branch's pathetic facade crumble to dust.