Elyse POV

The dull throb in my bruised hip was a lingering reminder of Jace's brutality yesterday, but as I walked into the Great Hall the next afternoon, my soul had never felt lighter. The suffocating weight of the mate bond was gone. I was a ghost haunting a house I no longer belonged to, waiting for the perfect moment to vanish.

I found Ciera standing in the center of the cavernous room, her arms crossed as she glared at the main wall.

Hanging there was the Moon-Blessed Tapestry of the First Alpha. Woven centuries ago with the platinum hair of the first Luna, it depicted a massive silver dire wolf bathed in moonlight. It was the sacred heart of the Silvermoon Pack, radiating a faint, ancient energy.

Ciera reached out, poking the edge of the priceless fabric with a manicured fingernail. She wrinkled her nose. "It smells like dust and death."

"It smells like history, Ciera," I said, my voice echoing coldly against the stone walls. "Like glory. Some things hold a value that cannot be measured by money."

She spun around, rolling her eyes. "Please. Jace is the Alpha. He can have whatever he wants. It's just an old, dark rag that ruins the aesthetic of the room. I'm going to have him take it down and put up a massive portrait of Leo and me. He could buy ten new tapestries anyway."

Her sheer ignorance was staggering, but it was exactly the weakness I needed.

Just then, Leo sprinted into the hall, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. In his hand, he gripped an open box of dark purple grape juice, swinging it wildly.

The trap was set. I just needed to hand her the bait.

"You should control him, Ciera," I said, keeping my tone perfectly even, though I laced it with a subtle challenge to her authority. "The Elders have made it clear that the relic's integrity is tied to the Alpha's power. If it is damaged, it will be viewed as a terrible omen for our Pack's future."

Ciera's face flushed with immediate, predictable anger. She hated being told what to do, especially by me.

"Don't use the Elders to scare me, Elyse!" she snapped, stepping protectively in front of her son. "This will be my home soon, and I make the rules! Leo, baby, go play. Ignore her."

Encouraged by his mother's defiance, Leo flashed me a malicious, childish grin. He ran directly toward the wall, raised his arm, and squeezed the juice box with all his might.

A thick arc of dark purple liquid splashed across the center of the tapestry.

The sweet, sticky juice soaked into the ancient platinum threads, blurring the blessed runes and staining the silver wolf like a deep, bleeding wound. Ciera and Leo erupted into a fit of giggles, completely oblivious to the magnitude of what they had just done.

A cold thrill of triumph washed over me.

Before the laughter could fade, the heavy oak doors of the Great Hall swung open. Elder Marcus stepped inside.

He had come to question Jace about his recent erratic behavior, but the moment his eyes landed on the desecrated tapestry, he froze. The air in the room instantly dropped ten degrees. The suffocating, oppressive aura of his ancient Inner Wolf flooded the hall, choking the laughter right out of Ciera's throat.

"What is the meaning of this?" Elder Marcus thundered, his face turning a dangerous shade of purple.

"It was an accident," Ciera stammered, shrinking back. "Just a child's prank. We'll wipe it clean—"

"Wipe it clean?" Marcus roared, stepping forward. "This is not a stain, you foolish woman! This is sacrilege! It is a direct insult to the Moon Goddess herself!"

Ciera trembled, pulling Leo behind her.

Marcus turned his furious gaze toward the empty Alpha's chair. "By the oldest laws of this Pack, the sin of desecrating a holy relic falls upon the Alpha who allowed it. In the name of the Elders' Council, I hereby freeze Jace's access to the Alpha's Discretionary Fund immediately. Not a single dime will be spent until a full purification ritual is paid for and completed to appease the Goddess."

Ciera let out a horrified shriek. The Discretionary Fund was the source of all her lavish shopping sprees and luxurious lifestyle. In a matter of seconds, her endless wealth had been severed.

"Guards!" Marcus barked. Two Pack warriors rushed in. "Watch her. She does not leave this hall until the Alpha returns to answer for this disgrace."

As Ciera collapsed onto a sofa, sobbing hysterically over her ruined finances and public humiliation, I took a quiet step back into the shadows.

"Oh dear," I whispered softly, my voice dripping with feigned sympathy. "This is going to be very bad for Jace."

Elyse POV

The heavy oak doors groaned open, and the temperature in the Great Hall seemed to plummet further. Jace strode in, his tailored suit crisp, expecting the usual submissive quiet of his domain. Instead, he was met with the suffocating aura of Elder Marcus’s fury and the cloying scent of Ciera’s panic.

Jace stopped dead. His eyes locked onto the desecrated tapestry, the dark purple stain bleeding across the ancient threads. I could practically feel his Inner Wolf, Titan, thrashing beneath his skin, agitated by the overwhelming negativity saturating his territory. All the color drained from Jace's face.

"What the hell is this?" Jace demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and disbelief.

Elder Marcus didn't give him a second to breathe. "This is the result of your negligence, Alpha. The Moon Goddess's sacred relic has been defiled. By the ancient laws of the Pack, the Elders' Council has unanimously voted to freeze the Alpha's Discretionary Fund immediately."

Jace let out a guttural roar, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "You can't do that! I am the Alpha!"

"And you have failed your Pack," Marcus replied coldly.

Ciera scrambled off the sofa, throwing herself into Jace’s arms. "Jace, do something!" she sobbed, her mascara running down her cheeks. She pointed a trembling finger at me. "It’s her fault! Elyse provoked Leo on purpose! She made him do it!"

Jace’s furious gaze snapped to me, his eyes flashing gold.

I didn't flinch. I stood perfectly still, my expression a mask of serene indifference. "I merely reminded her that Pack relics require reverence, Ciera," I said, my voice carrying clearly across the silent hall. "You were the one who explicitly told Leo, 'Ignore her, go play.'"

Ciera opened her mouth, but no words came out. Jace looked between us, the reality of his ruined finances and shattered authority sinking in. He was trapped, stripped of his power in front of his mistress and his Elders.

As Marcus turned to leave, signaling the end of the discussion, I adjusted my shawl and began to walk toward the stairs.

"Elyse, wait."

Jace’s voice stopped me. I turned to see him gently pushing a hysterical Ciera aside. He marched toward me, swallowing his pride, though his tone remained laced with that arrogant, commanding edge he always used.

"As my Luna, it is your duty to support this Pack," Jace said, lowering his voice so the lingering guards wouldn't hear. "The purification ritual will cost a fortune. I need you to open your personal trust fund from the Blackwood Pack to cover it. It will fix Ciera and Leo's little mistake and calm everyone down."

A wave of physical nausea washed over me at his sheer audacity. He wanted me to drain my own dowry to clean up his mistress's mess.

I looked at him, letting a slow, mocking smirk touch my lips. "My trust has strict withdrawal limitations, Jace," I lied smoothly. "It seems the cost of being your Luna is funding my own replacement. I'm afraid my accounts are closed to you, Alpha."

I didn't wait for his reaction. I turned my back on his sputtering rage and Ciera's renewed wailing, ascending the stairs to the West Wing. The nominal marriage between us had just shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

Once inside my suite, I locked the heavy brass door. The silence of my sanctuary wrapped around me.

I walked past the packed suitcases hidden carefully beneath my large bed. Moving to the massive walk-in closet, I pressed a specific sequence against the back wood paneling. It clicked open, revealing a hidden compartment.

Inside lay a velvet-wrapped bundle. I pulled back the fabric, revealing the faint, ethereal silver glow of the *real* Moon-Blessed Tapestry. I had commissioned a human artisan to weave the flawless replica days ago. Jace and Ciera had destroyed nothing but expensive, unblessed fabric.

I traced the glowing platinum threads, a cold thrill of victory humming in my veins.

Suddenly, my encrypted burner phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I picked it up. The screen illuminated the dark room with a single, anonymous text message.

*Your presence is required at the Winter Solstice Conclave this Friday. Do not test my patience, Elyse. — Hilda Blackwood.*

The blood in my veins turned to ice. My grandmother. The Matriarch of the Blackwood Pack.

This wasn't an invitation; it was a summons for a trial. The Blackwoods had sensed the instability here. They were coming to reclaim their asset.

I looked down at the suitcases under my bed. My plan to vanish the moment I handed Jace the rejection papers was ruined. If I ran now, Hilda’s trackers would hunt me down before I crossed the state line. I had to stay, attend the Conclave to feign loyalty, and find a new window to escape.

The clock was ticking, and the walls of the Shadowcrest Pack House were closing in.

Elyse POV

Three days had passed since Elder Marcus froze the Alpha's accounts, and the Shadowcrest Pack House felt like a suffocating tomb.

The tension finally boiled over during dinner in the Alpha's formal dining hall. The long mahogany table was set with heavy pewter cutlery and fine porcelain, but the roasted chicken and salads remained barely touched. The air was thick with Jace's suppressed, agitated Alpha energy, completely polluted by the cloying, sweet scent of Ciera's perfume.

Ciera pushed her plate away with a dramatic sigh. "This chicken is dry. Is this what we're reduced to? Serving peasant food to the Alpha?" She shot me a venomous glare. "Or is this your way of punishing us, Elyse? Still holding a grudge over that ragged tapestry and turning the Elders against Jace?"

Jace rubbed his temples, his golden eyes flashing with exhaustion. "Elyse, please. Just be reasonable. Ciera is going through a hard time right now."

I carefully placed my silver fork down. The sheer audacity of his words extinguished whatever lingering patience I had left.

"She lives in my house, eats my Pack's food, and sleeps with my Alpha, Jace," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly, icy calm that echoed off the stone walls. "How exactly is she struggling?"

The dining room plunged into a dead silence.

Jace's head snapped up. His Inner Wolf, Titan, roared at the blatant disrespect to his authority. He slammed his palms onto the mahogany table, the silverware rattling violently.

"Enough!" Jace bellowed, his chest heaving. He pointed a shaking finger at me, his face twisted in defensive rage. "I haven't touched you out of respect for her! Ciera is my true mate in every way that matters. I should have rejected you a long time ago! I never wanted a *wolfless* mate!"

The word hung in the air, designed to humiliate, to strip away my very identity as a werewolf. Beside him, Ciera smirked, a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

Three years of enduring this political marriage, three years of swallowing my pride, burned to ash in an instant. I felt nothing but absolute, crystalline clarity.

I reached into my clutch and pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope tied with a neat black ribbon. I placed it on the polished wood and slid it smoothly across the table until it stopped right in front of him.

"Happy Anniversary, Jace," I said softly, without a single ripple of emotion.

Jace froze. The furious gold in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden, sickening wave of realization and guilt. He had completely forgotten. He stared at the envelope, likely assuming it was a check from my trust fund to save his ruined finances, or perhaps a pathetic letter begging for his affection. He had no idea it contained the legally binding Rejection papers he had already signed blindly days ago.

He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the cream paper.

Suddenly, Ciera let out a piercing gasp. She clutched her stomach, collapsing back into her chair with a dramatic groan. Her trembling finger pointed at her half-empty wine glass, then at me.

"My wine..." she choked out, tears instantly welling in her eyes. "She poisoned me!"

"We all drank from the exact same bottle, Ciera," I stated flatly, not even blinking at her pathetic performance.

But Jace's Alpha instincts—blind, primal, and utterly stupid—took over. He didn't care about logic. He shoved his chair back, completely abandoning the envelope, and scooped the "dying" Ciera into his arms.

"Hold on, baby, I've got you!" Jace roared, sprinting toward the double doors. "Get the Pack Doctor! Now!"

His frantic footsteps faded down the corridor, leaving me alone in the cavernous room.

I stood up slowly. A single drop of red wine had splashed onto the cream envelope during Jace's chaotic exit, leaving a dark, blood-like stain on the paper. I picked it up and walked out into the dimly lit hallway.

Against the wall sat a mahogany console table, holding Jace's black leather briefcase—the one he took to every executive meeting. I unzipped the side pocket, slipped the stained envelope inside, and zipped it shut. A ticking time bomb, waiting for him.

I turned toward the kitchen doorway, where Martha, the loyal head maid, stood trembling, having witnessed the entire spectacle.

"Martha," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Move the packed suitcases from under my bed to the storage room first thing tomorrow morning."

"Luna..." Martha whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I'm leaving, Martha," I told her, adjusting my shawl. "Somewhere neither the Silvermoons nor the Blackwoods will ever find me."