I couldn't hide in the kitchen forever. The warm steam from the pots provided temporary comfort, but I knew he would find me eventually. My hands trembled as I wiped them on the rough apron tied around my waist, the scent of onions burning my eyes—or maybe that was just the tears I refused to shed.

"There you are." Maxwell's voice sliced through the clattering pans and bustling cooks. "I've been looking for you."

I turned slowly, keeping my eyes downcast as he approached. The kitchen staff immediately scattered, leaving us alone in the corner. My swollen eyes must have been obvious, but I hoped he wouldn't notice—or care.

"Your eyes are red," he observed coldly, stepping closer. "Have you been crying?"

"No, Alpha," I lied, my voice barely above a whisper. "Just the onions."

He reached out, gripping my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look up. "Don't lie to me. I can smell the salt on your skin."

I remained silent, knowing anything I said would only make things worse.

"The Wheeler delegation arrives at sundown," he continued, releasing me with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "You will serve wine at the ceremony tonight."

My heart stuttered painfully. "Alpha, I—"

"You will watch carefully," he interrupted, his voice taking on a sadistic edge. "Pay attention to how Zendaya carries herself. Learn what a real Luna looks like."

Each word was a dagger twisting deeper into my chest. "I don't think I can—"

"You can and you will," he snapped. His eyes flashed amber as he unleashed his Alpha tone. "You will serve at the ceremony, or I will cast you out as a Rogue by dawn."

The command settled over me like a physical weight, making my knees buckle. "Yes, Alpha," I whispered, hating how my voice trembled.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Remember your place, Hannah. You are nothing but a convenient body to warm my bed until my true Luna arrives."

* * *

The grand hall glittered with silver and blue decorations, candles casting a warm glow over the gathered pack members. I moved silently through the crowd, balancing a tray of crystal wine glasses, the servant's uniform Maxwell had chosen for me scratching uncomfortably against my skin.

My eyes darted nervously toward the entrance, where a commotion had broken out. The Wheeler Pack delegation had arrived.

"Make way for the Wheeler Alpha and his daughter!" someone called out.

I froze as Zendaya entered, her presence commanding immediate attention. She was stunning—tall and regal with glossy black hair cascading down her back in perfect waves. Her silver gown shimmered with each step, and her chin tilted upward in practiced arrogance.

Behind her walked several high-ranking wolves, their auras pulsing with power. I recognized Adam's father immediately, though I'd never seen him in person before. The resemblance to Adam was striking—the same strong jaw and piercing eyes, though older and harder.

I kept my head down, focusing on not spilling the wine as I moved through the crowd. But as I approached the front of the hall, Zendaya suddenly stiffened, her nostrils flaring.

"Wait," she commanded, her voice carrying across the room. "What is that scent?"

All eyes turned to me as I froze in place, the tray trembling in my hands.

Zendaya's gaze locked onto mine, recognition dawning in her eyes. "So you're the little pet I've heard whispers about," she said, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Maxwell's secret bedwarmer."

My cheeks burned with humiliation as the room fell silent. I tried to step back, but Zendaya moved with surprising speed, blocking my path.

"Let me see you up close," she purred, circling me like a predator. "Yes, I can see why he kept you. There's something... familiar about your scent."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "Excuse me, miss. I need to serve the guests."

"Oh, I'm not finished with you yet," Zendaya said, her eyes glinting with malice.

As I tried to move past her, she deliberately extended her foot, catching my ankle. I stumbled forward, the tray tipping. Wine splashed across the marble floor and onto Zendaya's silver shoes.

"Look what you've done!" she shrieked, though her expression showed more satisfaction than anger. "You clumsy, worthless Omega!"

She inhaled deeply, then released her scent markers—heavy, cloying, and suffocating. The sweet floral notes pressed against my lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

"Kneel," she commanded. "Apologize for your disrespect."

I struggled to stay upright as her scent overwhelmed me, my vision blurring at the edges.

"What is going on here?" Maxwell's voice cut through the chaos.

For one desperate moment, I thought he might defend me. Instead, he strode forward and placed himself between Zendaya and me.

"I apologize for this disruption," he said smoothly, bowing slightly to her. "The help is clearly inadequate."

Then he turned to me, his eyes cold and unforgiving. With a swift movement, he kicked my legs out from under me, forcing me to my knees.

"Get this filth out of here," he snarled at the guards who had materialized beside us. "She is nothing to me."

As they dragged me away, I caught one last glimpse of Zendaya's triumphant smile and Maxwell's indifferent eyes. In that moment, something inside me hardened—a tiny spark where my wolf had once whimpered in pain.

The guards' hands dug into my arms as they dragged me toward the exit, their grip bruising against my skin. I kept my eyes fixed on the floor, unable to bear the pitying glances from the pack members. The humiliation burned hotter than any physical pain could.

"Move faster," one of the guards growled, yanking me forward.

I stumbled, nearly falling to my knees again. This time, no one would be there to catch me.

Suddenly, a blast of wind tore through the hall, so powerful it knocked several wolves off their feet. The double doors at the entrance—massive oak reinforced with silver—splintered off their hinges with a deafening crack.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Maxwell roared, his Alpha tone vibrating through the room.

But his command fell flat as a figure stepped into the doorway, backlit by moonlight that seemed to crown him in silver.

My breath caught in my throat.

Adam Wheeler stood there, taller and more imposing than I remembered. His broad shoulders filled the doorframe, and his eyes—those piercing blue eyes I'd dreamed about for years—surveyed the room with cold fury.

But it was the aura radiating from him that made everyone freeze.

Golden light pulsed around him in waves, pressing down on the room with crushing intensity. It wasn't just Alpha power—it was something far more ancient and powerful. Lycan.

Every wolf in the room instinctively lowered their heads, necks bared in submission. Even Maxwell took an involuntary step back, his eyes widening in shock.

"Alpha Hudson," Adam's voice cut through the silence, deeper and more commanding than I remembered. "Care to explain why my mate is being treated like garbage on your territory?"

His mate? The words echoed in my head, impossible to process.

Adam's gaze found mine across the room, and something electric passed between us. Then he moved, each step deliberate and predatory as he walked through the crowd.

The pack parted before him like water, wolves scrambling to get out of his path. No one dared speak. No one dared breathe.

He stopped before me, kneeling down to my level. The guards holding me trembled visibly, but Adam ignored them completely.

"Hannah," he whispered, his voice softening for just me.

A low, possessive growl rumbled from his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch was gentle, reverent—nothing like Maxwell's harsh handling.

"Get your hands off her!" Maxwell finally found his voice, though it shook slightly. "She belongs to this pack!"

Adam's head snapped up, eyes flashing with lethal intent. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

"Belongs?" Adam's voice was deadly quiet. "She is not property to be owned."

He stood slowly, towering over Maxwell. "She is my mate."

The word reverberated through the hall like thunder.

"That's impossible," Zendaya hissed, stepping forward. "She's just a wolfless Omega!"

Adam didn't even look at her. His focus remained entirely on me as he shrugged off his coat—a beautiful leather jacket that probably cost more than I earned in a year—and wrapped it gently around my shoulders.

"Come," he said simply, offering me his hand.

I placed my fingers in his palm, trembling. The moment our skin touched, sparks danced between us—literal static electricity that made me gasp.

Adam's eyes darkened with hunger as he pulled me against him, one arm securing me at his side. "We're leaving now."

"No one leaves my territory without permission," Maxwell snarled, but his voice lacked conviction.

Adam's response was to unleash another wave of crushing aura that sent Maxwell staggering backward.

"I am not asking permission," Adam said coldly. "I am invoking the ancient right of sanctuary for my mate."

---

The night air was crisp against my face as Adam carried me out of Hudson territory. I didn't fight him—I couldn't. My body felt weightless in his arms, and for the first time in years, I felt... safe.

He placed me gently in the passenger seat of a sleek black SUV I'd never seen before, buckling the seatbelt with careful attention.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"My estate," he replied, starting the engine. "It's just outside pack borders."

As we drove through the moonlit forest, Adam's hand found mine across the console. Every time our skin touched, those strange sparks appeared again.

"What are those?" I whispered, watching blue-white light dance between our fingers.

Adam's eyes met mine briefly before returning to the road. "The mate bond," he said softly. "It's been there since we were children, Hannah. I never forgot you."

He pulled into a long driveway lined with ancient oaks, leading to a stunning modern mansion that gleamed silver in the moonlight.

"I felt your distress miles away," he continued as he parked. "The bond pulled me here just in time."

As he helped me from the car, his fingers brushed my cheek where a bruise was forming. The tenderness in his touch made my heart ache.

"Why would a Lycan Prince want someone like me?" I asked, unable to believe this was real.

Adam's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "Because you're mine," he growled. "And I'm going to show you exactly what that means."

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of Adam's guest room, casting golden patterns across the unfamiliar bed. I stretched, my body still aching from yesterday's humiliation, but feeling strangely lighter. The memory of Adam's touch lingered on my skin like a protective shield.

A commotion outside drew me to the window. My heart stuttered as I recognized Maxwell's sleek black car leading a convoy of SUVs through the gates. Behind them, at least a dozen warriors in Hudson Pack colors marched in formation.

"He's here," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

Adam appeared in the doorway, already dressed in a tailored suit that emphasized his broad shoulders. "Stay here," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "This is between him and me."

I nodded, but the moment he left, I followed. I couldn't let him face Maxwell alone—not because of me.

By the time I reached the main gates, Adam was already standing there, his posture relaxed but his aura pulsing with barely contained power. Maxwell stood opposite him, his face contorted with rage.

"Return my property," Maxwell demanded, his voice carrying across the lawn. "The Omega belongs to my pack."

Adam didn't flinch. "She belongs to no one."

"She signed a contract!" Maxwell snarled, waving a document. "She's mine for another year of service."

"Contracts don't apply to mates," Adam replied coolly. "Especially not when the contract holder abused his position."

Maxwell's eyes narrowed dangerously. "If you don't return her, our packs' alliance is broken. Is one wolfless Omega worth that price?"

Adam stepped forward, and suddenly the air around him shimmered with golden light. The warriors behind Maxwell dropped to their knees, necks bared in submission.

"Listen carefully," Adam said, his voice deadly quiet. "Hannah is under my protection now. If you or anyone from your pack approaches her again, I will personally tear your throat out and obliterate everything you've built."

Maxwell's face drained of color, but his eyes—those cold gray eyes I'd feared for years—held something new. Something manic and obsessive that made my skin crawl.

"You can't protect her forever," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "She'll always be mine."

Adam's growl vibrated through the ground beneath my feet. "Leave. Now."

Maxwell retreated, but not before his gaze found mine. The look in his eyes sent ice through my veins.

---

"He won't stop," I said later, as Adam and I sat in his study. "You don't know him like I do."

Adam's hand covered mine, warm and reassuring. "I know enough."

I took a deep breath, gathering courage. "There's something I need to tell you about my mother."

His eyes softened as I spoke about Victoria Collins—the woman who'd been murdered before I could truly know her.

"She hid something in the Hudson Pack library," I explained, remembering the vague images from my childhood. "Journals. She told me they were important, that they held the truth about why I'm...different."

Adam leaned forward, his expression intent. "Do you remember where?"

I nodded slowly. "There's a loose floorboard behind the oldest bookshelf. She showed me once when I was very young."

"We need to get those journals," he said firmly.

"The next full moon," I suggested. "Everyone will be running. The library will be empty."

Adam nodded, his mind already working. "Three days from now. I know the grounds well enough—I can get us in and out."

---

The Hudson Pack house loomed before us, dark and silent under the full moon's glow. Most of the pack was deep in the forest, running in wolf form, their howls echoing in the distance.

"Follow me," Adam whispered, leading me through the shadows toward a service entrance I'd used countless times.

The familiar scent of the pack house hit me as we slipped inside—polish, wood, and the lingering musk of wolves. My heart hammered against my ribs as we made our way to the library.

"Someone's coming," Adam hissed suddenly.

We ducked behind a column as footsteps approached. My breath caught in my throat when I recognized Marcus's silhouette passing by. But he paused, his head tilting as if sensing something.

"Adam?" he called softly.

We remained frozen until he moved away, though not before glancing in our direction with narrowed eyes.

The library door creaked as Adam eased it open. Inside, moonlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating rows of ancient books.

"Behind the shelf," I whispered, pointing to the far corner.

Adam moved with predatory grace, lifting me effortlessly so I could reach the highest shelf. My fingers found the loose board immediately, and I pried it open.

Three leather-bound journals lay hidden inside.

As we turned to leave, a shadow fell across the doorway.

"I thought I smelled something different tonight," Marcus said, his voice oddly strained.