Ella POV:

I dragged myself back to the guest quarters, chewing on raw marigold leaves to neutralize the silver burning my gut.

Creak.

Diana stood in the doorway. Wearing my silk robe.

"You look terrible," she said. She released a puff of pheromones—territorial, aggressive.

"Get out."

"Arthur is parking the car. He'll be here in seconds."

She grabbed her own hair and yanked. Then she slapped herself. Hard.

"What are you doing?"

Footsteps thundered on the stairs. Diana dropped to the floor, curling into a ball.

"Please! Stop! I didn't mean to upset you!"

Arthur burst in. He saw Diana cowering. He saw me standing.

"She attacked me!" Diana sobbed. "She hit me, Arthur!"

Arthur didn't sniff the air for the lie. He just lunged.

His hand crushed my throat, lifting me off the floor.

"I warned you."

"Arthur... trap..." I choked.

"Silence!"

He threw me. I hit the wall, shoulder popping. He grabbed the back of my dress and hauled me down the hall like luggage.

"Arthur, please!" I screamed as my bare feet scraped the wood. "I'm sick! The silver!"

He threw me out the front door.

I hit the frozen pavement. The winter wind bit instantly.

"Arthur!" I scrambled up.

He stood in the doorway, a dark silhouette against the warmth.

"By the power of the Alpha," he intoned, "I banish you. Let the barrier recognize Ella Farmer as an intruder."

Blue electricity rippled across the property line.

I ran forward, but the invisible wall shocked me back into the snow.

"The Rogues..." I wept, teeth chattering. "They patrol the borders."

"Start running," Arthur said.

He slammed the door.

I curled into a ball, trying to Mind-Link.

Arthur, please.

Static. A solid wall of silence. He had blocked me.

Ella POV:

Beep. Beep.

I woke up to the white ceiling of the Pack Hospital.

"She's awake," Dr. Evans said.

"How?" I croaked.

"Patrol found you. Hypothermia. Silver toxicity." He paused. "Ella... you're pregnant. Four weeks."

The world tilted. A pup. Arthur's pup.

This was the trump card. No Alpha rejects his own blood.

"Give me the phone!"

I dialed.

"What?" Arthur's voice. Impatient.

"Arthur, don't hang up. I have news. Big news."

"I'm busy. Diana is having nightmares because of your attack."

"Arthur, listen! I'm pre—"

"Arthur?" Diana's voice, fake and groggy. "Is that her? I'm scared..."

"Shh," Arthur soothed her. Then to me: "Stop calling. You're lucky I let the patrol bring you in."

Click.

My cell phone buzzed. Unknown number.

A photo. Arthur in wolf form, sleeping. Diana's hand on his fur.

Caption: He doesn't want your mongrel. He told me so.

She knew.

"Dr. Evans," I said, voice hardening. "When can I leave?"

"Ella... your grandmother, Hertha. She heard you were missing. Her car... brakes failed on the ice. She's in the ICU."

I ripped the IV out. "Take me to her."

"We can't do much," Evans admitted, looking at the floor. "All the Senior Healers are gone."

"Where?"

"Alpha Arthur summoned them to the penthouse. Diana said she felt faint."

My vision turned red.

Ella POV:

I stormed the VIP floor.

Three Senior Healers stood around a plush sofa. Diana lay there, sipping a smoothie. Arthur paced.

"Arthur!" I screamed.

"Security!" he barked.

"My grandmother is dying downstairs! And you have them here watching her drink a smoothie?"

"Diana is in shock," Arthur said, stepping between us.

"Shock?" I laughed, a broken sound. "Hertha served your grandfather! She has internal bleeding! Sarah, please!"

The lead Healer looked at Arthur, terrified.

I fell to my knees. "Arthur, I beg you. Forget me. Just let one go."

For a second, conflict flickered in his eyes.

"Arthur," Diana whimpered. "My chest... tight."

The conflict vanished.

"They stay," Arthur said.

"She's faking it!" I screamed as guards grabbed me.

I rushed back to the ICU. Silence.

Dr. Evans pulled a sheet over the figure on the bed.

"No," I whispered.

I collapsed onto Hertha's chest. She was gone. Because Diana wanted attention.

Two days later. The funeral. Raining.

Arthur stood under a black umbrella, holding Diana. He looked bored.

After the casket lowered, he handed me an envelope.

"A check," he said. "For your loss. And to help you move on. Far away."

"You think money fixes this?" I stared at him. "You let her die."

"It was an accident," he said stiffly. "Diana was critically ill due to your negative aura."

I turned to leave.

Buzz.

Emergency Alert: Unauthorized excavation in Sector 4.

Grandma's grave.

I spun around. A backhoe was moving toward the fresh mound. Diana was pointing.