Alessia's POV:

The scent was suffocating.

Alpha pheromones are powerful; they transmit messages of authority, protection, and possession.

Another woman reeking of my husband's scent, sitting in my home, was nothing short of a declaration of war.

Valentina looked up, a piece of bacon still in her mouth. She smiled.

"Good morning, Luna," she said breezily. "I hope you don't mind. I didn't have any clean clothes, and Santino insisted."

"Get up," I said. My voice was low and trembling, carrying a tone I hadn't used since I left my father's palace.

Valentina blinked, putting on an innocent act. "Excuse me?"

"Get out of my seat," I commanded, "and take off my husband's shirt."

"Alessia!"

Santino strode into the dining room. He took one look at the scene before him—me standing there radiating fury, and Valentina with her lips trembling—and he instantly made his choice.

He stepped between us, shielding her.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he growled at me. "She is a pregnant woman."

"She is wearing your clothes, Santino," my voice shook with rage. "She is sitting in the Luna's chair. Do you have a single shred of respect left for our marriage?"

"It's just a damn shirt!" Santino roared. "You're making a huge deal out of nothing. Valentina needs comfort. She needs the scent of the Pack Alpha to feel safe."

"She needs her Alpha's scent?" My smile was drenched in sarcasm. "Or does she just want the Alpha himself?"

Santino fell suddenly silent, seemingly afraid to answer my question.

"My stomach!" Valentina cried out suddenly.

She doubled over, clutching her belly. "Oh, the baby..."

Santino was at her side in an instant, his face etched with panic. "Valentina! Take deep breaths. You're going to be okay."

He glared back at me. "Look at what you've done! If she loses this pup, it's entirely your fault!"

"She's fine," I said coldly.

Without the suppressants, my senses were sharpening. I could hear her heartbeat; it was steady. She wasn't in real pain; she was acting.

If I could sense it, Santino certainly could too.

But he didn't.

Because he trusted Valentina, not me.

"Enough!" Santino roared.

He unleashed his Alpha Command. The weight of it slammed into me, meant to force me to my knees. "I command you to apologize to her!"

I stood perfectly still.

The heavy pressure weighed down on my shoulders, trying to crush me. An ordinary wolf would have been flattened. An ordinary Luna would have submitted long ago.

But I remained standing, my knees refusing to buckle.

Santino's eyes widened in confusion. He pushed the Alpha Command even harder, but I just stared back at him.

"I will not apologize to a homewrecker," I stated firmly.

"You..." Santino stammered. He turned around and helped Valentina to her feet. "Come on, Valentina. You won't be subjected to this treatment anymore."

"From now on, you're going to help me manage the pack's finances. You need something to do, and Alessia is clearly too mentally unstable right now to handle the books."

I was stunned.

The pack's finances? That was my responsibility. I had used my personal wealth to pay off the pack's debts. I had single-handedly established their trade routes.

Now, with a single word, Santino was dismissing all of that, taking it away, and handing it to a rogue.

"You're giving my duties to her?" I asked softly, staring at him with utter seriousness.

"I am making her a part of this pack," Santino declared. "This is her den now too."

This is her den.

Those words echoed in my mind. A den is a wolf's safe haven, shared only with family. By calling it her den, he was essentially inviting her into our marriage.

He looked at me with disdain. "Maybe if you learned to be a little softer and more considerate like her, you wouldn't just be a title, Alessia. Sometimes I forget you're even a wolf."

That insult stung.

He thought I was weak because I chose to be gentle.

He thought I was powerless because I hid my strength just to protect his fragile ego.

I looked at the man I had married three years ago. I searched for the charismatic, ambitious man who had promised to build a future with me. He was gone. All that was left was a fool.

I reached for my left hand.

"What are you doing?" Santino asked, frowning.

I gripped the silver ring on my finger. It was the Luna's ring, passed down through generations in the Silver Creek Pack, a symbol of eternal loyalty.

I pulled it off.

It hit the hardwood floor with a clink, rolling until it came to a stop right at Valentina's feet.

"If you want her so badly," I said, my tone completely devoid of emotion, "then you can have her. Give her the ring too. It's worthless to me now."

"Alessia!" Santino took a step forward, a flash of fury in his eyes. "Stop this nonsense! Pick it up. You are not allowed to leave me. You are my mate!"

I reminded him. "As of right now, I no longer recognize you as my Alpha."

I turned and walked out of the dining room.

"If you walk out that door," Santino roared behind me, "don't even think about coming back! Without my protection, you are nothing! You're just a weak female with no family!"

I didn't look back, just grabbed my keys from the console table in the hallway.

He was right about one thing.

I was indeed leaving.

But he was dead wrong about everything else. He had absolutely no idea what kind of family I came from.

He was about to find out what happens when you wake a sleeping wolf.

Alessia's POV:

I drove until the pack compound was just a tiny black dot in my rearview mirror.

I ended up at "The Rusty Claw," a neutral bar located on the edge of the territory. Wolves from different packs, and even humans, mingled there.

I went into the bathroom to change clothes. I pulled out a dress. It was red, skintight, and featured a slit that went all the way up my thigh.

It wasn't a dress for a submissive Luna; it was a dress for a goddess of the hunt.

I walked out into the bar and ordered a neat whiskey.

The burning liquid felt good, just like the fire igniting in my blood.

With the suppressants wearing off, my senses exploded. The music was louder, the lights were brighter. I could smell the sweat, the cheap beer, the lust, and the fear of everyone in the room.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in three years.

When the call connected, I said, "Damian."

"Princess?" the deep, gravelly voice on the other end asked. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm at The Rusty Claw. Come pick me up."

"I'm five minutes away. Don't move."

I hung up. I should have known he'd be so close. The Royal Guard had never truly left my side; they just stayed in the shadows, respecting my wish to live a "normal" life.

The bar door swung open.

The wind rushed in, carrying the scent of rain, damp earth, and cedar.

A man stood in the doorway. He was massive, towering a full head above everyone else. He wore a black tactical vest pulled tight across his solid chest. His dark hair was messy, as if he'd run his hands through it countless times.

But what caught my attention first were his eyes. They shone like molten gold.

Thump. Thump.

My heart wasn't just pounding; it was slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird. The air in the room seemed to vanish, leaving only him.

A jolt of electricity shot down my spine. The wolf inside me, who had been growling furiously all morning, suddenly threw her head back and howled.

"Mine!" she roared. "Mate!"

It was Damian.

I had known Damian since childhood. He was my father's Gamma, the Captain of the Royal Guard.

He had always been my shadow, my protector.

But I had never smelled this scent, and I had never felt this spark.

"Alessia?" Damian asked softly. He took a step toward me, his nostrils flaring.

He smelled it too. That bond. It hit us both like a runaway train.

The suppressant pills hadn't just masked my wolf; they had dulled my ability to recognize my fated mate.

Damian closed the distance between us in two strides. He stopped mere inches from my face. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and cupped my cheek.

"Damian," I whispered.

When his skin touched mine, it wasn't just warmth; it was an electric shock. An intoxicating, addictive tingle flooded from his fingertips into my skin, instantly healing the cracks deep within my soul.

"I found you," his voice was thick with emotion. "Moon Goddess, it's you. It was always you."

He leaned in close, the tip of his nose brushing against my neck as he took a deep breath. "You smell like home."

In that moment, the world was perfectly flawless.

Then, the door banged open again.

"Get your hands off my wife!"

Santino stood there, his chest heaving. He must have tracked my scent. Behind him stood two of his enforcers.

Damian didn't back away; instead, he stepped in front of me. His posture shifted instantly from a lover to a lethal weapon. A menacing growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through the floorboards.

"She is not your wife," Damian said, his tone chillingly calm. "Not anymore."

"She bears my mark!" Santino yelled, pointing at the faint bite mark on my neck—the mark he had left was already fading because the love was gone.

"Alessia, get in the car. Now."

"No," I said, stepping out from behind Damian.

Santino looked at Damian, then at me, and sneered. "Is that it? You abandon me to run to your bodyguard? Are you sleeping with him?"

"He is my fated mate," I said.

Santino froze, and then he laughed. "Him? A Gamma? Don't make me laugh. You are a Luna; you belong to an Alpha."

He lunged at me.

It all happened so fast. Damian moved to intercept, his claws already extended, ready to rip Santino's throat out.

But Santino wasn't aiming to fight; he just wanted to possess. He grabbed my arm, his claws extending as well.

"You are mine!" Santino roared.

His claws dug deeply into my flesh. A sharp pain shot up my arm.

Damian let out a furious roar, grabbing Santino by the collar and slamming him brutally against the bar. The wood splintered upon impact.

"I'm going to kill you," Damian snarled, his eyes glowing gold.

"Damian, stop!" I commanded, placing a hand on his taut bicep.

"He hurt you," Damian growled low.

"If you kill an Alpha in neutral territory without a formal challenge, you will start a war," I said, my voice remaining remarkably calm despite the blood trickling down my arm. "Let him go."

Damian hesitated, his chest heaving violently, but he shoved Santino back.

"I'm taking her home," Santino spat, straightening his coat. "That's pack law, Gamma. Until the divorce is finalized, she is still under my jurisdiction."

Damian took another step forward, radiating murderous intent. "Touch her one more time, and I won't give a damn about pack law."

I looked at Santino, then at my arm.

Then I remembered. My mother's necklace was still in the guest room. If I left now, Valentina would steal it or sell it.

"I'm going back," I said.

"Alessia, no," Damian argued instantly.

"Damian, I need my mother's necklace. I left it on the dresser. I will not leave my treasure to that woman, in that house."

I walked past a shocked Santino.

Follow us, I mind-linked Damian. But do not cross the ward line. I will get my things and walk out the front door.

Conflicted fire burned in Damian's golden eyes, but he nodded. "I'll be watching. Just one scream, Alessia. Just one, and I'll level the place."

Santino shoved me toward his car. "Get in."

I climbed into the passenger seat and looked down at my arm, marked with three deep gashes.

But as I watched...

Normally, a wound like this would take days to heal.

But now, off the pills, and having found my fated mate, my magic was surging.

Right before my eyes, the skin began to knit back together, and the bleeding stopped.

My wolf was fully awake, and she said she was thirsty for blood.

Alessia's POV:

Santino dragged me inside the Packhouse and shoved me into the first-floor guest room.

"You stay in here until you come to your senses," he spat, locking the door from the outside.

I didn't pound on the door, and I didn't cry.

I could hear them in the living room. Valentina's shrill fake crying, and Santino's low voice comforting her.

"She's crazy, Santino. She attacked me with her eyes. Did you see that?"

"She's just jealous of you, baby. Ignore her."

My stomach rumbled. I hadn't eaten all day. As the suppressants metabolized out of my system, my inner wolf fully awakened.

I needed meat. Raw meat.

I waited until dawn. When the lock finally clicked open, I was physically exhausted, but my mind was startlingly clear.

I stepped out into the hallway. The house was quiet.

I was heading to the kitchen to find something to eat, but I stopped when I passed the mirror in the living room.

Valentina was right there, admiring her reflection.

Around her neck hung a delicate silver chain, featuring a shimmering, light blue gemstone.

My mother's moonstone necklace.

It was a royal heirloom. It wasn't just jewelry; it carried the Moon Goddess's blessing. It was the only thing my mother had left me.

"Take it off," I said softly.

Valentina jumped and spun around. When she saw it was me, she relaxed, a smug smirk forming on her lips. She traced the stone with her fingers.

"Oh, this?" she giggled. "Santino gave it to me this morning. He said it's a talisman to protect the baby. Don't you think it looks better on me?"

"That belonged to my dead mother," I said, stepping closer. The air around me began to crackle. "Give it to me."

"No," Valentina pouted like a spoiled child. "It's mine now. Santino said everything that used to be yours is mine now."

She took a step back, and whether out of clumsiness or deliberate malice, she yanked on the chain.

Snap.

The delicate silver chain broke. The necklace fell.

It hit the hardwood floor. The moonstone, fragile from age and magic, shattered into three pieces. The soft blue glow inside it flickered once, and then went completely dark.

Time stopped.

I stared at the shattered pieces of my mother's legacy, feeling as if she had died all over again.

A scream ripped from my throat. It wasn't a human scream; it was a primal wail of sheer agony.

I moved faster than I ever had before. I closed the distance and slapped Valentina hard across the face.

Smack!

She stumbled backward, clutching her cheek, her eyes wide.

"Santino!" she shrieked.

Santino appeared instantly, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment. He saw Valentina clutching her face and the broken necklace on the floor.

He didn't ask what happened, nor did he even look at the heirloom.

He looked at me with a gaze full of pure hatred.

"How dare you touch her?" he roared.

He raised his hand.

In werewolf culture, an Alpha never strikes his Luna. It is an absolute taboo, a sign of a failed leader and a tyrant.

But Santino didn't care.

His heavy hand swung through the air and struck me across the face.

Crack.

The force of the blow knocked me to the floor. My head slammed heavily against the wooden floorboards. I tasted copper. Blood welled up in my mouth.

For a split second, there was total silence.

I lay on the floor, my hair falling over my face.

Something deep inside me snapped. The final chain binding the White Wolf shattered.

The pain didn't make me cry; instead, it set me... free.

I slowly pushed myself up. My hair fell away from my face.

"Alessia?" Santino seemed to suddenly regain his senses, his voice trembling. "I... I didn't mean to hit you that hard. But you defied my command."

"Yeah, if you were just a bit more obedient, I wouldn't have hit you. You need to reflect on your actions."

I stood up. I wiped the blood from my lip with my thumb and looked at it.

Then, I looked at him.

Santino gasped and took a step back. Valentina let out a muffled whimper.

My eyes were no longer brown.

They were silver. Glowing, blinding, terrifyingly brilliant silver.

It was the mark of the royal bloodline. The mark of the White Wolf.

The air in the room grew heavy, and the furniture began to rattle.

"I am not Alessia, the submissive wife," I said. My voice sounded different. Layered, as if two beings were speaking at once.

"What... what are you?" Santino stammered, a flicker of genuine terror finally crossing his eyes.

"I am the judgment you brought upon yourself," I said.

I raised my hand.

I didn't need a phone. I didn't need to shout.

I spoke directly into the mind-link. The channel that connected me straight to my father's army.

"Damian," I commanded. "Now."