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."

Elyse POV

My bags were packed. Freedom was just a car ride away.

Then, my encrypted burner phone rang.

I stared at the unknown number flashing on the screen, a cold dread pooling in my stomach. I answered it, pressing the speaker to my ear.

"Luna Elyse," a voice rasped. It was Silas, Hilda Blackwood's Beta. His tone was devoid of any warmth. "The Matriarch noted your failure to RSVP to tonight's Winter Solstice Conclave. She assumes it was a clerical error."

"Silas, I—"

"Let me be clear," he cut me off, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "The Matriarch is assessing her alliances tonight. If you and Alpha Jace do not walk through the doors of the Blackwood Keep by seven o'clock, she will consider the Silvermoon Pack an enemy. And she will summon you back to the dungeons for *The Correction*."

My blood turned to ice. The room spun. *The Correction.* Just hearing the words made phantom silver burn against my skin, a visceral memory of agonizing torture that could shatter a werewolf's soul.

"We will be there," I choked out, my voice trembling. The line went dead.

My escape was over. If I ran now, Hilda's trackers would hunt me down before I crossed the state line. I had to survive tonight first.

I closed my eyes and forced my consciousness into the Pack's network, reaching out to Jace.

*Jace,* I pleaded through the mind-link. *I need you to come with me to the Blackwood Conclave tonight.*

A wave of static and irritation hit me before his voice echoed in my head. *Are you insane, Elyse? Elder Marcus froze my accounts! I am dealing with a financial crisis, I don't have time for your grandmother's pretentious parties!*

*Hilda will see your absence as an act of war!* I projected my raw, unfiltered terror through the bond. *She will drag me back to the Blackwood dungeons, Jace! This isn't a request. It's for my survival!*

Silence stretched across the link. Even through his arrogance, Jace's Alpha instincts recognized the genuine, primal fear radiating from me. He feared the Blackwood Pack's military might, even if he wouldn't admit it.

*Fine,* he snapped finally. *But we arrive at seven, and we leave at nine. Not a minute longer.*

The connection severed. I exhaled a shaky breath, praying we could just make an appearance and leave unscathed.

By 6:50 PM, I was standing in the freezing, cavernous foyer of the Pack House. I wore a thin, formal black gown, shivering as the draft from the heavy front door seeped into my bones. Outside, a brutal blizzard was tearing through the territory, the wind howling like a dying beast.

I checked my watch. Ten minutes until we had to be there.

Suddenly, Ciera's voice drifted down from the second-floor landing. She wasn't using the mind-link; she was speaking loudly, making sure her voice carried.

"Oh, a date tonight? With Dr. Evans?" Ciera giggled, the sound dripping with fake innocence. "I'd love to. It's been so lonely here..."

A deafening roar shook the floorboards. Jace's bedroom door slammed open upstairs.

"You are not going anywhere with that damn Pack Doctor!" Jace bellowed, his Alpha aura exploding through the house, heavy and suffocating.

"You can't tell me what to do, Jace!" Ciera cried out, her voice trembling with perfectly calculated tears. "You have a Luna! I can't just wait around forever! I need a Mate who will mark me, someone who puts me first!"

"I said no!" Jace used his *Alpha's Command*, the sheer force of it making my own knees buckle slightly downstairs. "You are staying right here with me."

The Pack House fell dead silent. The only sound was the violent rattling of the windows against the storm.

My mind-link crackled.

*Elyse,* Jace's voice was flat, devoid of any guilt. *The Elders just called an emergency meeting. I can't make it tonight.*

A bitter, hollow laugh escaped my lips. The Elders never held meetings on the night of the Winter Solstice. It was a pathetic, transparent lie. He had chosen her tears over my life.

I looked at the mahogany console table beside me. Jace's black leather briefcase sat exactly where I had left it, the blood-stained Rejection envelope resting silently inside.

I didn't argue. I didn't beg. The last shred of whatever bond tied me to Jace Silvermoon withered and died in my chest, leaving nothing but cold, hard clarity.

I pulled my thin shawl tighter around my shoulders and pushed open the heavy front door. The freezing wind instantly bit into my skin, but I didn't stop. I walked out into the blinding white snow, got into my Audi, and drove toward the Blackwood Keep alone.