The morning sun filtered through the trees as our pack gathered for the mandatory run. My body still ached from yesterday's encounter with Cason, but the pain was overshadowed by a strange new sensation—a restless energy coursing through my veins.

"Everyone shift!" Cason's command echoed through the clearing. His voice carried the unmistakable weight of an Alpha's authority.

All around me, wolves dropped to their knees as their bodies contorted and reshaped. Fur erupted across skin, bones cracked and reformed, and within moments, dozens of wolves stood where people had been.

I closed my eyes, trying to summon the wolf inside me. For years, I'd been told I was wolfless—a defect that made me the perfect Omega. But after yesterday's touch with Cason, I knew something had changed.

"Come on," I whispered to myself. "Please."

I felt heat surge through my body as I concentrated. My bones began to crack, sending waves of pain through my limbs. I fell to my knees, gasping.

"Look at her," came Kiana's voice from somewhere nearby. "Trying so hard to be like us."

I ignored her, focusing on the transformation. My skin prickled as if fur was trying to break through, but it remained trapped just beneath the surface.

"Shift!" I commanded myself, desperation making my voice crack.

More bones shifted, more pain exploded through me. I could feel something wild trying to emerge, but it was stuck—caught between forms.

"Enough!"

Cason's voice cut through my concentration. He stood before me in his magnificent silver wolf form, his gray eyes now glowing Alpha red.

"Submit," he growled, his Alpha tone vibrating through the air.

My body responded instantly to the command. I collapsed forward, my face pressing into the dirt. The partial transformation reversed itself, leaving me human and vulnerable before the entire pack.

"An Omega who can't even shift properly," Kiana's voice rang out. "What use is she to anyone?"

Laughter rippled through the pack. Through my tears, I saw Kiana shift back to human form and wrap herself around Cason's wolf, her hands stroking his fur possessively.

"Some mate bond," she sneered. "The Moon Goddess must have been drunk."

---

That night, a Beta guard summoned me to the Alpha's office. My heart leapt with desperate hope—maybe Cason had reconsidered. Maybe he'd felt our connection.

But when I entered, my hopes shattered. Cason sat behind his desk in human form, Kiana perched on the edge beside him. Her hand rested possessively on his shoulder.

"Nola Simpson," Cason began formally. "I've called you here to address a... misunderstanding."

Kiana's smile was venomous as she leaned toward him. "Tell her, darling. Tell her what we discussed."

Cason cleared his throat. "Yesterday, when we touched, I may have... mistaken our connection."

"You didn't mistake anything," I whispered. "We're mates."

"No." His voice hardened. "We're not."

Kiana's eyes gleamed with triumph as she slid her arm around Cason's neck. "Cason needs a strong Luna—someone who can shift properly, bear strong pups, and command respect."

"I, Cason Duncan," he began, his voice taking on the formal cadence of ritual, "Alpha of Silvermoon, reject you, Nola Simpson, as my mate."

The words hit me like physical blows. Each syllable tore through my chest, ripping apart something vital inside me. I doubled over, a metallic taste filling my mouth.

"You're... rejecting me?" I gasped, blood trickling from the corner of my lips.

"Completely," he confirmed, not meeting my eyes.

Kiana stepped forward then, her face twisted with disgust. "You're pathetic," she hissed, and kicked me hard in the ribs.

I collapsed to the floor, coughing up more blood. "Kiana, please..."

"You're nothing but a waste of space," she spat. "A broken Omega with a broken wolf."

---

I dragged myself back to my room, each movement sending fresh waves of agony through my body. The rejection had torn something loose inside me—something fundamental.

I curled into a ball on my narrow bed, shivering despite the warmth of the room. The pain was unbearable, radiating from my chest outward.

"Why?" I sobbed into my pillow. "Why would he do this?"

As the tears flowed, something strange happened. The pain in my chest intensified, then suddenly cracked—like an eggshell breaking from within.

Heat flooded my veins, different from before. This wasn't the painful heat of transformation but something powerful and ancient.

My eyes flew open as golden light spilled from them, illuminating the dark room.

"What is this?" I gasped, staring at my hands as they began to glow with the same golden light.

And then, a voice spoke within me—deep, powerful, and utterly foreign.

"Where is Father?" it demanded. "Why have you not called for him?"

I sat up straight, clutching my chest. "Who are you?"

"I am your wolf," the voice growled. "But I am not just any wolf."

My hand reached instinctively for the silver locket I'd worn since childhood—the one thing I'd never been able to remove. As my fingers closed around it, the metal heated beneath my touch.

"What are you?" I whispered to the voice inside me.

"I am Lycan," it replied simply. "And you are not what they think."

The heat from the locket against my skin intensified until it burned like molten metal. I gasped, tearing it from my neck and watching in astonishment as it glowed with an otherworldly light.

"What is happening?" I whispered, my voice shaking.

And then, a voice filled my mind—deep, powerful, and commanding.

"Nola? My daughter?"

I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Who's there?"

"It's Father," the voice boomed, making me wince. "Noah Simpson."

Noah Simpson. The name hit me like a physical blow. Everyone in the werewolf world knew that name—the Alpha King who ruled the most powerful pack alliance in the Pacific Northwest.

"No," I breathed. "That's not possible. I'm an orphan."

A bitter laugh echoed through my mind. "Is that what they told you? That you were abandoned?"

Something cold and terrible settled in my stomach. "You're... my father?"

"I am," he confirmed, his mental voice vibrating with barely contained rage. "And I can feel your pain, daughter. I can sense the broken bond."

I pressed my hand to my chest, where the rejection still burned like acid. "How?"

"I've been watching over you," he explained, his voice softening slightly. "Waiting for the right moment to reveal your true heritage."

"My true..." I trailed off as understanding dawned. "I'm not an Omega, am I?"

"No," he growled. "You are a Lycan Princess."

The words echoed in my mind as golden light pulsed behind my eyes. My wolf stirred within me, no longer dormant.

"They rejected you," Noah continued, his fury building. "They dared to reject my daughter?"

"I want to leave," I whispered, suddenly desperate to escape. "Please, help me get out of here."

"Leave?" Noah's mental voice turned icy. "I will burn the Silvermoon Pack to the ground for what they've done to you."

"No!" I cried, though part of me thrilled at the idea of revenge. "I just want to go. I'm not strong enough..."

My voice broke as another wave of pain washed over me. The rejection was still tearing me apart from within.

"Then call for me," he commanded. "When you're ready to escape."

---

I stuffed clothes into a worn backpack, my hands trembling with excitement and fear. The truth of my identity still reverberated through me—I wasn't a worthless Omega but a Lycan Princess, daughter of the most powerful Alpha King in the region.

"I can do this," I whispered to myself. "I can get out."

The pack house was quiet as I slipped down the back stairs, avoiding the main hall where Cason and Kiana would be celebrating their engagement. My wolf stirred restlessly within me, lending me strength I'd never known before.

I'd made it to the edge of the property when a familiar scent hit me—copper and malice.

"Going somewhere?" Kiana's voice sliced through the darkness.

I spun around to find her flanked by three pack warriors, their expressions grim.

"I'm leaving," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "You got what you wanted."

Kiana's smile was venomous. "Actually, I don't think I do. Not yet."

She nodded to the warriors. "Take her."

Two of them lunged forward, grabbing my arms. I struggled, summoning the Alpha command I'd inherited from my father.

"Let me go!" I shouted, infusing my voice with power.

The warriors faltered, their eyes widening in surprise, but Kiana laughed.

"You're too inexperienced," she sneered. "You don't know how to use your new powers."

One of the warriors pulled out a syringe filled with pale green liquid. "Wolfsbane," he muttered. "Enough to keep her quiet."

I fought wildly as they pinned me down, but it was too late. The needle plunged into my arm, and cold fire spread through my veins.

---

Darkness swallowed me whole.

When consciousness returned, it came in fragments—the rumble of an engine, the smell of gasoline, the feel of metal pressed against my cheek.

I was in the trunk of a moving car.

"She's still breathing," a male voice said from somewhere outside. "You sure this is worth our trouble?"

"Viktor Blackwood doesn't ask questions," Kiana's voice replied. "He pays cash for merchandise like this."

My blood ran cold as I heard the name of the notorious Rogue King.

"And you're sure she won't come back to haunt us?" the man asked.

Kiana laughed, the sound chilling me to the bone. "Once she's sold at the auction, she'll belong to whichever rogue pays the highest price. She'll be too busy being someone's breeding stock to ever find her way back."

The car hit a bump, sending pain shooting through my battered body.

"Don't damage the goods," Kiana snapped. "Viktor wants her intact."

"Relax," the driver replied. "This one's already broken. Her mate rejected her."

Their voices faded as drugs pulled me back under, but one thought burned in my mind: I was being sold to a rogue auction, and no one knew where to find me—except my father.

If I survived long enough to call for him.

The first thing I noticed was the smell—a sickening mixture of sweat, fear, and something wild and feral. My head throbbed as consciousness returned, the wolfsbane still clouding my thoughts. I tried to move, but my wrists were bound with coarse rope that bit into my skin.

"She's awake," a gruff voice announced.

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights. I was in what looked like an abandoned warehouse, but the walls were reinforced with metal plates and the windows were barred. The floor was concrete, stained with what looked disturbingly like dried blood.

"Fresh meat," another voice said, and laughter followed.

I struggled to sit up, taking in my surroundings. I was in a cage—an actual cage—made of silver-infused bars that burned against my skin when I accidentally touched them. Across the room were more cages, each containing terrified female wolves, their eyes hollow with despair.

"Where am I?" My voice came out as a croak.

"Welcome to the Black Market Auction House," said a tall man with a scar running down his face. "You're the newest addition to tonight's inventory."

Inventory. The word made my stomach turn.

"Kiana," I whispered. "She did this."

"Your friend? Yeah, she's a regular supplier." He smirked. "Brings us the best broken toys."

The door at the far end of the warehouse swung open, and a hush fell over the room. A man entered—tall, imposing, with eyes so dark they seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Power radiated from him in waves that made even the guards straighten their postures.

Viktor Blackwood. The Rogue King.

He moved through the room with predatory grace, inspecting each cage. When he reached mine, he crouched down, his fingers gripping the bars.

"This one's different," he murmured, studying me with clinical interest. "Dirt can't hide that face. And that scent..."

He inhaled deeply, his eyes widening slightly. "What are you?"

"I'm nobody," I whispered.

His laugh was cold. "No. You're something special. The Main Event."

He nodded to his guards, who unlocked my cage and dragged me out. I fought wildly, but in my weakened state, it was useless. They forced me to my knees before Viktor.

"Put this on her," he ordered, holding out a silver collar studded with black stones.

"No!" I thrashed against their hold. "Please!"

The collar snapped around my neck, and white-hot pain seared through me. I screamed as it seemed to sink into my skin, leaving a burning band of metal that couldn't be removed.

"What is this?" I gasped.

"A silencer," Viktor replied casually. "It blocks mind-links. Can't have you calling for help, can we?"

My blood ran cold as I realized what this meant—I couldn't reach my father anymore.

---

Miles away, in a fortress carved into the mountainside, Noah Simpson paced his study like a caged animal. His face, usually a mask of controlled power, was twisted with barely contained rage.

"Father?" His Beta, Marcus Reed, stood in the doorway, watching anxiously.

"She's gone silent," Noah growled, pressing his fingers to his temples. "The connection is blocked."

"Blocked? That's not possible unless—"

"Unless she's wearing a silencer." Noah's eyes flashed golden. "Or she's dead."

The word hung in the air between them, heavy with implication.

"We need to find her," Marcus said firmly. "Now."

Noah nodded, his composure returning like a steel mask sliding into place. "Summon the Lycan Guard. All of them."

Marcus's eyes widened. The Lycan Guard was Noah's elite force—warriors twice the size of normal wolves, each capable of taking down an Alpha single-handedly.

"And contact the Silvermoon Pack," Noah continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I want Cason Duncan here. Now."

"Father, if he's harmed her—"

"If he's killed my daughter," Noah cut in, "there won't be enough left of him to bury."

---

In the Silvermoon Pack house, Cason Duncan stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his skin had a sickly pallor that hadn't been there before.

"Alpha?" A Beta called through the door. "There's a messenger from Alpha King Noah Simpson demanding to see you immediately."

Cason's head snapped up. "Noah Simpson? Here?"

"He's not here yet, but his messenger says it's urgent."

Cason stumbled out of the bathroom, still weak from the hollow feeling that had plagued him since rejecting Nola. Something was wrong—he could feel it in his bones.

"Where's Kiana?" he demanded.

"In the kitchen, Alpha."

Cason found her there, whispering with a group of females. She looked up when he entered, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked without preamble. "Why would Noah Simpson send a messenger?"

Kiana's expression flickered before settling into concerned innocence. "I don't know. Maybe it's about pack business?"

"Nola," he said suddenly. "Where is she?"

Kiana's smile faltered. "She... she ran away. After you rejected her, she couldn't face the shame. She joined a rogue pack."

Something cold settled in Cason's stomach. He studied Kiana's face, seeing for the first time the calculation behind her eyes.

"You're lying," he whispered.

For a moment, genuine fear flashed across her face before she composed herself. "I'm not. She's gone, Cason. Forget about her."

But as Cason turned away, a strange scent caught his attention—Nola's scent, faint but unmistakable, leading toward the pack borders and beyond.

"I need to check something," he muttered, following the scent trail before Kiana could stop him.