Kimberly POV:

The clinic smelled of bleach and wolfsbane. Dr. Evans, an old Beta with shaky hands, looked at the ultrasound screen with pity.

"Are you certain, Ms. Kimberly?"

I lay on the cold table, staring at the ceiling tiles. "Do it."

"The pup... the heartbeat is strong. An Alpha heir."

My gut twisted. In the last timeline, I thought this baby would save us. Instead, Alex poisoned me with 'tonic' for my morning sickness, and Graves was too busy playing hero to her to answer my calls when I went into labor. My son died gasping.

"I'm not terminating," I said, my voice hard. "I want a Bloodline Severing. Extract the fetal essence into magical stasis. Freeze it."

Dr. Evans paled. "That’s dark magic, Luna. It removes the child from the physical realm entirely until re-implantation. It severs the father's blood-sense. He won't know it exists."

"That's the point. If Graves smells his heir on me, he’ll lock me in a basement 'for my own safety.' Proceed."

The ritual was agony. It felt like someone was reaching inside me and pulling out a piece of my soul with ice-cold tongs. When it was over, I felt hollowed out, but the biological beacon that would have alerted Graves was gone.

I walked out an hour later, clutching a cooler box.

My phone buzzed. Graves: You upset Alex. Fix your attitude before the Shareholders' Party.

He didn't even realize I was gone. He was so used to me being furniture.

I blocked his number.

I drove to the nearest occult shop and bought 'Void-Root.' It killed pheromones dead. I swallowed two capsules dry.

The Malibu safe house was dusty, but it was mine. I pulled the red silk dress from my suitcase—the one Graves had called "whorish" three years ago.

I held it up to the mirror. My hazel eyes flashed gold. The White Wolf was prowling just beneath my skin.

The Shareholders' Party was in two days. Alex planned to use it as her debutante ball.

I bared my teeth at my reflection. "Let's crash a party."

Kimberly POV:

The Kramer Hotel ballroom reeked of money and musk.

I stood at the top of the staircase. Below, Graves held court, looking magnificent and stupid. Alex clung to him in a white dress that screamed "virginal bride," playing the doe-eyed victim.

I didn't just walk down the stairs. I unleashed.

I dropped my suppression shields. The aura of the White Wolf—cold, ancient, and terrifying—flooded the room. The music died. Conversations strangled mid-sentence. The air grew heavy with the scent of ozone and snow.

I descended. The red silk flowed like liquid blood. Graves looked up, his drink pausing halfway to his lips. For a second, the fog in his eyes cleared, replaced by raw, confused lust.

Alex grip tightened on his arm, her claws snagging the fabric.

"Kimberly," Graves said, his voice tight. "You're late. And you look... aggressive."

"Happy Birthday, Alex," I projected my voice, ignoring him.

I snapped my fingers. A waiter presented a velvet box.

Alex’s eyes lit up. Greed was her defining trait. "You shouldn't have! Is it the car keys?"

"Open it."

She tore the lid off.

A scream pierced the silence. She scrambled back, dropping the box.

A dead crow rolled out onto the polished floor. Its neck was snapped. In the Old Tongue, it was a declaration: Traitor. Leave or Die.

"What is this?!" Graves roared, shielding Alex. "Are you insane?"

"I didn't pack it, Graves," I said, loudly enough for the Board to hear. "You did. Don't you remember? Last week, you said, 'Give the Rogue exactly what she deserves.'"

"Liar!" Alex shrieked, tears flowing instantly. "He loves me!"

The investors murmured. Graves looked frantic. He felt his control slipping.

"Kneel!" Graves bellowed, invoking the Alpha's Command. "Apologize!"

The waiters dropped to the floor. Weaker wolves whimpered. The psychic weight slammed down.

I stood motionless. I didn't even blink.

"I kneel for the Moon," I said, my golden eyes boring into his. "You’re just a man in a suit."

I turned and walked away. Behind me, glass shattered against the wall.

"Dustin!" Graves screamed at his Beta. "Bankrupt her! Destroy her companies! I want her on the street by morning!"

I smiled into the night air. I’d sold the companies yesterday. By morning, he’d be buying empty shells.

Kimberly POV:

The financial ambush was a bloodbath. Graves poured forty million into a hostile takeover of my fashion label, not realizing I’d already stripped the IP and client lists. He bought a sinking ship.

I was in the parking garage, heading to my rental, when the hairs on my neck stood up.

Move.

I spun, but the boot caught me in the stomach. I slammed into the concrete, tasting copper.

Two Enforcers stepped out of the shadows.

"Alpha says you need a lesson in respect."

They didn't use magic. They used fists. It was a calculated beating—enough to bruise, not enough to kill.

Shift! My wolf screamed. Kill them!

No. If I shifted, I’d expose the White Wolf lineage. Graves would lock me up as a breeding mare. I had to take it.

I curled into a ball, protecting my head. A boot cracked against my ribs.

"That's enough," Graves' voice crackled from a phone in the Enforcer's pocket. He was listening. The sick bastard.

The Enforcers left me bleeding on the oil-stained concrete.

I lay there, breathing through the agony. My accelerated healing was already knitting the bone, itching like fire.

I dragged myself up, spitting blood. I pulled a burner phone from my bra.

I dialed a number whispered in back alleys.

"Rogue Alliance," a rough voice answered.

"I have a job," I rasped. "And I have twenty million dollars of Graves' money to pay for it."