I stepped into the Hawthorne Pack manor’s grand ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast a harsh glare over the elite werewolf families gathered for Grandpa Edward’s eightieth birthday.

The music stopped. Conversations died.

I kept my chin high, the silk of my emerald gown brushing against the marble floor. Whispers erupted around me, spreading like wildfire through the crowd.

"Is that Elena?" a woman muttered to my left.

"She looks completely different," a man replied. "Not like a runaway at all."

"She walks like a Queen," another voice whispered.

I ignored them. I scanned the room until I found the only person who mattered.

"My beautiful girl!" Grandpa Edward called out from the head table. He pushed himself up from his chair, opening his arms wide.

I crossed the room and hugged him tight. "Happy birthday, Grandpa."

"Look at you," he beamed, patting my cheek. "A true Luna. Europe has treated you well."

"It has," I agreed. "Kael sends his regards. He and Aria are flying in later."

"Good, good," Grandpa chuckled. "I want to meet my great-granddaughter."

A delicate sniffle broke the moment.

Lillian stepped out from the shadow of a towering ice sculpture. She wore a pristine white lace dress, looking every bit the fragile porcelain doll this pack worshipped.

"Sister," Lillian whispered.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, followed immediately by a violent sob. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as if my mere presence physically wounded her.

Derek materialized instantly. He shoved his shoulder in front of Lillian to shield her from me.

"What did you do to her?" Derek demanded, his voice echoing in the quiet room.

"I literally just walked into the room, Derek," I stated.

Tristan and Noah flanked them a second later, forming a protective wall around the weeping girl.

"Can't you go five minutes without causing a scene?" Tristan asked. His jaw tightened as he glared at me.

"Me?" I laughed. A dry, humorless sound. "Is it my fault she's crying?"

The surrounding guests went dead silent.

Noah pointed an accusing finger at my chest. "She's terrified of you. You know what you did to her three years ago."

"I didn't do anything then, and I'm not doing anything now," I replied. "If she wants to cry over my mere existence, that sounds like a personal problem."

"Apologize to her," Derek ordered.

"No."

"You are a guest in this house," Tristan warned, stepping closer. "Act like one."

"I am a Hawthorne," I corrected him. "And a Luna of the Nightfang Pack. Speak to me with respect, Tristan, or don't speak to me at all."

Tristan’s eyes flashed gold. He opened his mouth to argue, but Grandpa Edward slammed his cane against the floor.

"Enough!" Grandpa barked. "This is my birthday. We will have peace, or I will throw you all out."

Derek scowled but wrapped an arm around Lillian, leading her toward a nearby table. Tristan and Noah followed, casting disgusted glances over their shoulders.

The string quartet started playing again, attempting to cover the awkward tension.

I turned away from them, my stomach churning.

A waiter in a crisp black vest paused beside me, offering a silver tray. "Red wine, Miss?" he asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Thank you," I said.

My throat felt like sandpaper from the flight. I took the crystal goblet and drank deeply. The liquid tasted oddly metallic, resting heavy on my tongue.

I frowned, staring at the dark red liquid.

"You shouldn't have spoken to Tristan that way," a voice said.

I turned to see Lillian standing there, holding a small plate of appetizers. She had wiped her tears, though her eyes remained artificially red.

"Leave me alone, Lillian," I warned.

"I just want us to be a family again," she pleaded, stepping uncomfortably close.

Suddenly, the room tilted. The chandelier lights smeared into blinding streaks of yellow and white. My fingers went completely numb.

My heart hammered against my ribs. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

"Sister, maybe you should eat something—" Lillian reached out.

My knees buckled.

The crystal goblet slipped from my grip.

It shattered against the floor. Dark red wine splashed violently across Lillian's pristine white dress, staining the lace like fresh blood.

Lillian gasped, covering her mouth. Then, the waterworks truly began.

"It's okay!" Lillian cried out, her voice echoing over the music. "Please don't be mad at her! Sister didn't mean to do it!"

"You spiteful bitch," Derek snarled, rushing back to her side.

Tristan lunged forward. His hand clamped around my wrist like a vice. "You haven't changed at all, have you?"

I tried to yank my arm away, but my muscles felt like lead. "Release me."

"Always trying to humiliate her," Tristan sneered, his grip tightening until my bones ground together. "You just couldn't stand seeing her happy."

"The wine," I stammered, my tongue thick and clumsy. "It was drugged. I feel..."

Noah scoffed loudly. "Drugged? You threw your drink at her and now you're playing the victim?"

I looked around the circle of faces. Disgust. Anger. Judgment.

Not a single ounce of belief.

"I didn't throw it," I whispered. My eyelids drooped.

"We all saw you do it, Elena," Noah said. "Stop lying."

"She did it on purpose," Derek insisted, dabbing at the red stains on Lillian's dress with a napkin. "She waited until Lilly was close and just dumped it on her."

"I'm fine," Lillian sobbed, clutching Derek's shirt. "She just startled me. Don't yell at her, please."

Her defense only fueled their rage.

"Enough!" Alpha William—my father—barked, pushing through the crowd. He didn't even look at me. He looked at the stain on his adopted daughter's dress.

"Dad, I didn't—" I started.

"Silence," William commanded. "You have disgraced this family for the last time."

"Someone put something in my drink," I insisted, fighting to keep my eyes open. "Look at me. Look at your actual daughter."

William finally met my gaze. His eyes held nothing but contempt. "My daughter wouldn't act like a feral rogue."

"Take her to the guest quarters on the third floor," William ordered two pack guards. "Lock the door. She will not ruin this banquet."

The guards grabbed my arms, hauling me backward.

"Dad, please," I slurred.

He turned his back on me.

My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out the string quartet. The edges of the room darkened.

Through my blurring vision, I saw Lillian huddled against Tristan's chest. She lowered her head, pretending to hide her face in his jacket.

But as the guards dragged me away, she tilted her chin just enough for me to see.

A cruel, triumphant smile stretched across her lips.

My vision faded to black, the drug finally pulling me under.

But Kael was coming.

And when my husband landed, this pack would burn.

The lock clicked shut.

I slumped against the mattress, my limbs filled with wet sand. The drug pulled at my consciousness, dragging me downward into a heavy fog.

I patted my dress pocket.

Empty.

They took my phone. Kael wouldn't know where to find me in this sprawling manor.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway.

The brass knob turned.

Tristan stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"You look pathetic," Tristan muttered.

He crossed the rug, stopping at the foot of the bed. He wore a tailored suit, but his tie was loosened, hanging unevenly around his collar.

"Get out," I slurred. My tongue felt too large for my mouth.

"Don't be difficult, Elena. I told the guards to leave us."

He sat on the edge of the mattress. The springs groaned under his weight.

"I haven't forgotten you," he murmured, his voice dropping into that low timbre he used to reserve for our private moments. "Three years, and I still think about the bond."

I stared at the ceiling. "There is no bond."

"Stop lying to yourself." He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek.

I jerked my head away. The sudden motion made the room spin, my stomach lurching violently.

"Just apologize to Lillian," Tristan urged. "Go downstairs, tell her you're sorry, and we can fix this. We can be mates again."

I let out a dry, raspy laugh. It sounded like scraping metal.

"Did you hit your head?" I asked.

Tristan's jaw tightened. "I'm offering you a way out of this mess. Your father is ready to banish you completely."

"I don't care about William." I forced myself to sit up, leaning heavily against the headboard. "And I don't care about you. We are finished. We have been finished since you let them lock me in the dark."

"I was protecting the pack's unity," Tristan reasoned, leaning closer.

"You were protecting her," I shot back.

"She was weak. You were strong. You could handle the confinement."

"I screamed until I coughed up blood, Tristan."

He flinched, looking away for a fraction of a second. "You're just being stubborn. You always were."

"Do you even hear yourself?" I asked.

"I hear a mate who is lost," Tristan said.

"I'm not lost. I'm married."

Tristan sneered. "To some European suit your grandfather found? That isn't real. You did it to make me jealous."

"I did it to survive."

"You don't love him."

"I love him more than I ever loved you."

His eyes flared gold. The rejection stung his Alpha pride.

"You think running off to Europe makes you better than us?" Tristan demanded.

"It makes me free of you."

"You're mine," he growled.

Tristan lunged. He pinned my wrists to the mattress with one hand, his grip bruising my skin.

"Get off me!" I yelled.

The drug kept my muscles useless. I thrashed, but it was like moving underwater.

"Once I mark you, this little rebellion ends," Tristan whispered against my neck. His canines elongated, scraping against my collarbone.

A terrifying, crushing weight slammed into the room.

The air vanished.

The heavy oak door ripped off its hinges. It smashed into the far wall, splintering into jagged shards.

Tristan froze.

A towering figure stood in the doorway.

Kael.

His silver eyes burned with a lethal, icy fury. The sheer force of his Alpha aura flooded the space, forcing the oxygen out of my lungs.

It hit Tristan like a freight train.

Tristan gasped, releasing my wrists. His knees buckled under the immense pressure, slamming into the hardwood floor. He choked, clutching his throat as he stared up at the man invading the room.

Kael didn't speak.

He crossed the room in two strides.

His fist connected with Tristan's jaw. The sickening crack of bone echoed off the walls.

Tristan flew backward, crashing through the wooden vanity. Glass shattered, raining down over his limp body.

Kael didn't spare him a second glance.

He shrugged off his dark trench coat and wrapped it securely around my shivering shoulders.

"I've got you," Kael murmured, lifting me into his arms as easily as if I weighed nothing.

"You came," I whispered, resting my head against his chest.

"I told you I would."

He carried me out of the room, stepping over the ruined door.

We descended the grand staircase. The music from the ballroom drifted up to meet us.

Kael didn't slow down. He marched straight through the arched double doors and into the center of the banquet hall.

The string quartet screeched to a halt.

Hundreds of elite werewolves turned to stare.

Lillian gasped, clinging to Derek's arm.

Alpha William stepped forward, his face flushed with anger. "What is the meaning of this? Put my daughter down!"

Kael ignored him. He scanned the crowd, his silver eyes locking onto every pack member, every elder, every guest.

"Remember this moment," Kael's voice boomed. It wasn't a shout. It was a command that vibrated through the floorboards.

Silence blanketed the room. No one dared to breathe.

"From today on," Kael announced, his tone laced with absolute authority, "Elena Hawthorne is my wife. She is the only Luna of the Nightfang Pack."

Whispers erupted, then died instantly as Kael's aura spiked again.

"Anyone who dares to hurt her," Kael continued, his gaze drifting lazily to William, "is making an enemy of the entire Nightfang Pack."

William's angry flush vanished. His skin turned a sickening shade of gray.

"Nightfang?" Derek stammered, taking a step back.

Lillian shrank behind Derek, her wide eyes darting between me and the monstrously powerful Alpha holding me.

William opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. He recognized the man standing in his ballroom. He recognized the ruin staring him in the face.

"Alpha Nightfang," William finally choked out, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "There has been a misunderstanding. Elena is my daughter. We were simply disciplining her."

"Disciplining her?" Kael repeated, his voice dangerously soft.

"She attacked Lillian," Derek interjected, stepping up beside his father. "She threw drugged wine on her."

Kael tilted his head. "My wife doesn't need parlor tricks to deal with pests."

"It's the truth!" Noah shouted from the crowd. "We all saw it!"

"Then you are all blind," Kael stated.

"The only misunderstanding," Kael added smoothly, turning his attention back to William, "is you thinking your pack will survive this night."

Kael turned on his heel, carrying me toward the exit.

"Wait!" Lillian cried out, rushing forward. "You can't take her! She assaulted me!"

Kael paused. He didn't look back at her.

"If my wife wanted to assault you," Kael stated, "you wouldn't be standing there to complain about it."

He resumed walking.

But a new voice echoed from the entrance, freezing everyone in their tracks.

"Nobody is leaving."

Grandpa Edward stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on his cane, but his eyes were fixed on the shadows behind Kael.

"Because the real thief hasn't confessed yet."