"Take it off!"

The scream tore from my throat, raw and bloody. I didn't care about the Solstice. I didn't care about the pack watching. I launched myself at Victoria, my fingers hooked into claws, aiming straight for the gruesome trophy around her neck.

Victoria shrieked, stumbling back in her heels, but she didn't look scared. She looked triumphant. "Alpha! She's crazy! Help me!"

My fingers brushed the cold, jagged surface of Kiara's tooth just before a massive weight slammed into my side. The air left my lungs in a whoosh. I hit the frozen dirt hard, the taste of mud and dead grass filling my mouth.

A low, vibrating growl shook the ground beneath me. I looked up, gasping, into the amber eyes of a massive grey wolf. Bennett.

He didn't look at me with recognition. He looked at me like a rogue. Like a threat. He snarled, his lips peeling back to reveal teeth far sharper than the ones Victoria wore. He snapped his jaws inches from my nose, a clear warning. *Submit.*

The Alpha aura rolled off him in suffocating waves, pinning me to the earth more effectively than his paws. My human body instinctively curled in, exposing my neck in a gesture of surrender I hated myself for making.

*Apologize.*

His voice invaded my mind, heavy and distorted by the wolf's consciousness.

"I..." I choked, tears blurring my vision. "I can't..."

He pressed his paw harder onto my chest, squeezing the air from my ribs. A whimper escaped my lips. The pack was silent, watching their Luna being treated like a feral dog.

*Apologize to your Beta. Now.*

"I'm sorry," I sobbed, the words tasting like ash. "I'm sorry, Victoria."

Bennett’s wolf huffed, a sound of derision, and stepped off me. He trotted over to Victoria, nuzzling her hand before retreating to the trees to shift back. Victoria smoothed her dress, looking down at me with a pitying sneer.

"Poor thing," she said loud enough for the crowd to hear. "Grief makes people do ugly things."

I lay in the dirt, too broken to move. I wanted the earth to swallow me whole.

Then, the gravel of the driveway crunched under heavy tires.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The murmurs of the pack died out, replaced by a sudden, tense silence. Three black SUVs rolled into the clearing, their windows tinted dark as night. They looked like sleek predators amidst the rustic setting of our Pack House.

The lead car’s door opened. A pair of polished black boots hit the ground.

The man who stepped out was tall, with broad shoulders that strained against his dark charcoal suit. But it wasn't his size that made the air in the clearing grow heavy and electric. It was his aura. It rolled off him like a thunderhead, dark and oppressive, tasting of ozone and imminent violence.

Alpha River George.

My breath hitched. I hadn't seen him in years, not since we were children running through these same woods. He had been a boy then. Now, he was a king.

Every wolf in the clearing, including Bennett’s Beta, instinctively dipped their heads, their inner wolves recognizing a predator far higher on the food chain.

River didn't look at them. His gaze swept the area with laser focus until it landed on me.

I knew what I looked like. Mud-stained dress, hair wild, tears streaking my face, kneeling in the dirt.

River’s movement stopped. His pupils blew wide, swallowing the iris until his eyes were almost entirely black. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered in his cheek. For a second, I thought he was going to shift right there and tear the throat out of anyone standing near me.

Then, the mask slammed back into place. He adjusted his cuffs and began to walk toward the gathering, his stride eating up the distance.

I scrambled to my feet, trying to brush the dirt from my dress, shame burning my cheeks. I stumbled toward the drinks table, desperate to hide, to wash the taste of mud from my mouth.

My hands shook so badly I couldn't grip the ladle for the punch.

"Allow me."

The voice was deep, vibrating in my chest like the low hum of a cello. I froze.

River stood beside me. Up close, he was overwhelming. He smelled of deep ocean and cedar wood, a scent so clean and powerful it cut through the stench of my own misery.

I stumbled back, my heel catching on a tree root. I flailed, bracing for another fall.

River’s hand shot out, catching my elbow.

*Zap.*

A jolt of static electricity, sharp and hot, arced between our skin. It wasn't just a static shock. It was a current, traveling up my arm and slamming straight into my heart.

*Thump-thump.*

Deep inside me, in the dark void where my wolf had slept for three years, something stirred. A tiny, phantom warmth. A heartbeat that wasn't my own.

I gasped, looking up at him. River’s eyes were locked on mine, wide and stunned. He felt it too. His grip on my arm tightened, not painful, but anchoring. Like he was the only thing keeping me from floating away.

"Carmen," he breathed, his voice rough.

"Get your hands off her."

The growl came from behind us. Bennett pushed between us, his face flushed with anger and exertion from his recent shift. He reeked of wet dog and pine.

He grabbed my other arm, yanking me away from River. The loss of contact made me physically cold, as if the sun had just gone behind a cloud.

"She is my mate, River," Bennett spat, puffing out his chest, trying to expand his aura to match River’s. It was pathetic, like a candle trying to outshine a bonfire. "And she is unwell. Do not touch her."

River didn't back down. He didn't even blink. He looked at Bennett’s hand on my arm, his lip curling in disgust, before raising his eyes to Bennett’s face.

"She doesn't look unwell, Bennett," River said, his voice dangerously calm. "She looks abused."

The air between them crackled, thick with aggressive pheromones. Bennett gripped me tighter, possessive and cruel, but my eyes were glued to River.

For the first time in three years, I didn't feel alone.

The lock on my bedroom door clicked shut, leaving me in the suffocating silence of the room that used to be a nursery. Bennett’s threat still rang in my ears—*the asylum*. I sank to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, trying to stop the trembling that had taken over my body.

*Carmen.*

The voice didn't come from the room. It erupted inside my skull, deep and resonant, like the rumble of thunder before a storm. It wasn't the sharp, intrusive spike of a forced pack link. This was warm. It felt like liquid gold pouring into the cracks of my shattered soul.

I gasped, clutching my head. "Who...?"

*You know who,* the voice answered, heavy with suppressed emotion. *I should have claimed you ten years ago. I saw you at the Gathering of the Packs. You were sixteen. I was a boy, terrified of his own instincts.*

River.

My heart slammed against my ribs. "Get out of my head," I whispered aloud, though I knew he could hear my thoughts. "If Bennett senses you..."

*Let him sense me,* River growled. The sheer power of his Alpha aura bled through the mental link, making the air in my room vibrate. *I stayed away because you smiled at him. I thought you were happy. I thought he was worthy. But tonight... looking at you in the dirt... Carmen, say the word. Just one word. Tell me you want to be free, and I will challenge him for you right now. I will tear his throat out on the Council floor.*

A sob caught in my throat. I wanted to scream *yes*. I wanted to run into his arms and let his scent of cedar and ocean drown out the vanilla and pine that choked me. But I knew Bennett. Bennett didn't fight fair. He had Mateo, he had the numbers, and he had no honor. He would ambush River just like he ambushed the car that carried Kiara.

River would die. And it would be my fault.

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears leaking out. "Don't," I projected back, forcing my mental voice to be cold, sharp. "I don't want you, River. I chose Bennett. I love my husband. Leave us alone."

The silence that followed was deafening. The golden warmth in my mind recoiled, then vanished, leaving me colder than before.

I dragged myself to the window, needing to breathe, needing to see anything other than these four walls. The view overlooked the dense forest bordering the pack lands. The moon was high, casting long, skeletal shadows across the lawn.

Movement caught my eye.

A figure in a shimmering red dress was slipping through the garden gate, heading toward the treeline. Victoria. She moved with a furtive urgency that made my skin crawl. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass, watching as three dark shapes emerged from the woods.

Rogues. I knew them by their jagged movements and matted fur.

Victoria didn't flinch. She handed a heavy canvas bag to the largest rogue—the kind of bag used to transport gold bars from the pack vaults. They exchanged words I couldn't hear, but the rogue nodded, looking toward the Pack House with a hungry grin. Victoria pointed toward the Great Hall, then made a slashing motion across her throat.

My blood ran cold. She wasn't just paying them off. She was buying a massacre.

Before I could process the horror, the door behind me banged open. Bennett stood there, adjusting his cufflinks, his face a mask of bored irritation.

"Time to go, Carmen. Remember your role."

He gripped my arm, his fingers bruising, and marched me down the grand staircase. The Great Hall was alive with music and laughter, a sickening contrast to the dread pooling in my stomach. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and expensive perfume.

Bennett led me to the dais at the front of the room. He took his seat on the velvet Alpha chair, looking like a king surveying his kingdom. Then, he pointed to the floor at his feet.

"Sit," he commanded, his voice low but laced with the Alpha tone.

Humiliation burned my cheeks. The music faltered as guests turned to watch. I was the Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, and he was making me sit like a disobedient dog. But with my wolf dormant and his command pressing down on my spine, I had no choice. I sank to the rug, tucking my legs beneath me, staring at the polished tips of his shoes.

"Perfect," a voice purred.

Victoria glided into view, taking the seat next to Bennett—my seat. She smelled of rain, pine, and the faint, coppery stench of the rogues she had just met. She leaned down, swirling her champagne glass, ensuring the pendant around her neck dangled right in front of my face.

The small, white teeth clicked softly against each other. Kiara’s teeth.

"You look much better down there, Carmen," she whispered, her fingers tracing the jagged edge of a molar. "It’s where you belong. Don't worry about the party. I've arranged some... entertainment. It should be a night to die for."

She laughed, a cruel, tinkling sound that made my vision blur with red rage. I wanted to bite her ankle. I wanted to scream.

From across the room, a sudden, sharp *crack* silenced the nearby conversations.

I looked up. River was standing near the entrance, his dark suit straining against his frame. He wasn't looking at Bennett. He was looking at me, at the woman sitting on the floor in disgrace. His eyes were pools of absolute, terrifying darkness.

In his right hand, the crystal champagne flute had exploded. Shards of glass were embedded in his palm, blood dripping steadily onto the pristine floorboards. He didn't seem to notice the pain. He just watched me, his chest heaving with a growl that he was barely holding back.

Bennett chuckled above me, resting his hand on Victoria’s knee. "Looks like our guest can't handle his drink."

But I knew better. River wasn't drunk. He was a bomb, and the fuse had just burned out.