Jayme POV:

The sedan smelled like him. It was psychological torture.

Autry insisted on driving me to the border. He called it "protocol." I called it making sure the trash was actually taken out.

We sat in a silence thick enough to choke on. I’d swapped the silk dresses he used to buy his "ward" for jeans and a hoodie.

"Where will you go?" Autry asked, knuckles white on the wheel.

"None of your concern, Mr. Villarreal."

The car swerved.

He growled. "Don't call me that. I am your Alpha."

"Not anymore," I replied, staring at the passing blur of trees. "I’m a Rogue. Your command is just noise."

We passed the town square. A massive billboard of Autry’s face loomed over us. His tech company owned the town, just like he thought he owned me.

"I'm doing this for the pack," he said, voice tight. "You couldn't handle the pressure. The Northern Alpha would eat you alive."

"You didn't reject me because I'm weak, Autry," I turned to his profile. "You rejected me because you're a coward. You're terrified of what the council would think of an orphan Luna."

He slammed the brakes. The car screeched to a halt inches from the border crossing.

He turned, eyes flashing gold. "Get out."

I grabbed my single suitcase.

"Jayme," he called as I walked toward the neutral zone.

I stopped.

"Don't come back. If you cross into Blood Moon territory, you’re a hostile trespasser."

"Don't worry," I said, gripping the handle until my fingers ached. "I'd rather die."

I crossed the invisible line. The heavy hum of the Pack Link—the mental web connecting us all—snapped off. Silence.

I was alone.

My phone buzzed. A notification from the Pack’s social feed.

Official Announcement: Alpha Autry Villarreal to accept Cassie Turner as his chosen mate. Celebration dinner tonight.

Below it, a live video. I shouldn't have clicked.

A bulldozer tore through the garden. My mother's moon-blooming roses were crushed into the mud.

Cassie stood in the foreground, champagne in hand.

"Out with the old trash, in with the new luxury," she laughed.

I threw my phone into a ditch.

I took a deep breath. The air didn't smell like chocolate and rain anymore. It smelled like dust and highway exhaust. It smelled like freedom.

"You think I'm trash, Cassie?" I whispered to the dark road. "Just wait."

Jayme POV:

Three days later, I was in France.

My old agent, Sarah—a human oblivious to wolves—found me a gig. Indie film, lavender fields of Provence. Far enough from the Blood Moon that I could breathe without my lungs aching.

I was unpacking in a cramped hotel room when my new burner phone rang. Blocked number.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

The voice was a bucket of ice water. Autry.

"Why are you calling?"

"I asked a question, Jayme!" His voice deepened into the Alpha Command . It used to make my knees buckle. Tell me where you are!

I waited for the compulsion.

Nothing.

The rejection had severed the neurological hook. His voice was just... loud.

"I don't have to answer you," I smiled. "You have no power here."

"Jayme, listen," he sounded panicked. "The council is asking questions. They know you're gone. I need you to sign some NDAs. Just come back for a day."

"Send them to my lawyer," I said. "Oh wait, you fired him. Goodbye, Mr. Villarreal."

I hung up and snapped the SIM card in half.

Downstairs, the crew was gathering.

"Ah, the mysterious beauty!"

A man walked toward me. Tall, messy blonde hair, ocean eyes. T-shirt and jeans, but he moved with the lazy confidence of a predator.

"I'm Kenan," he extended a hand. "Director."

I shook it.

Zap.

Static electricity, warm and pleasant, jumped between us.

And then the scent hit me.

Pine needles. Sea salt. Old parchment.

It was a balm to my frayed nerves. My wolf stirred from her coma, lifting her head to purr.

"I'm Jayme," I breathed.

Kenan held my hand too long. His pupils dilated. He was a wolf. A strong one.

"You have sad eyes, Jayme," he said softly. "Perfect for this role."

We went to the fields. Work was a distraction. Until the wind changed.

Thwup-thwup-thwup.

A sleek black helicopter crested the ridge, bearing the Blood Moon logo. It landed, flattening the lavender.

Autry stepped out. Dark suit, sunglasses, holding red roses like a grim reaper with a guilty conscience.

He ignored the shouting crew and locked onto me.

"Jayme!" he yelled over the rotors. "Get in the chopper. We're going home."

Jayme POV:

"Cut!" Kenan yelled, ignored by the dying engine whine.

Autry marched through the lavender, crushing flowers with Italian leather. His Alpha aura rolled off him in waves, terrifying the human crew.

"I told you to get in," Autry growled, grabbing my wrist. His grip was a shackle.

"Let go!" I yanked back.

"Stop making a scene," he hissed. "The council knows I let a Fated Mate walk. My reputation is bleeding out. You’re coming back to the guest house until I fix this."

"I am not your property!" I shouted. My wolf snarled, and a flash of strange, white-hot heat surged through my veins.

"Release her."

The voice was a low rumble of thunder.

Kenan stepped between us. T-shirt versus suit, but the air around Kenan grew dense.

Autry sneered. "Stay out of this, human. Family business."

Kenan didn't flinch. He grabbed Autry's wrist.

"I said, let go."

Kenan squeezed.

Autry’s eyes went wide. He tried to pull away, but Kenan’s grip was a vice. Autry realized what I had: this "director" wasn't human. And he wasn't weak.

Autry released me, rubbing his wrist. "Which pack? You're interfering with Blood Moon."

"My set," Kenan said flatly. "My actress. You are trespassing."

Autry sniffed the air, smelling Kenan on me from the handshake.

"Replaced me already?" Autry laughed, a cruel bark. "With a Rogue director?"

"Autry! Wait!"

Cassie stumbled out of the chopper, heels sinking into the dirt. She linked her arm through Autry's.

"What is taking so long?" Then she saw me. "Oh. You."

She looked at the cameras, then Kenan. "Wait, is this Midnight Rain ? My father is the main investor for the distribution."

Kenan frowned. "So?"

"So," Cassie smirked, "I want the lead. If Jayme is leaving, the spot is open."

"I'm not going anywhere," I stepped closer to Kenan.

"Actually," Cassie tapped her phone, "I just texted Daddy. Unless you want your funding pulled, cast me. Jayme can be the... stunt double. The dangerous stuff."

Autry didn't stop her. He watched me, waiting for me to beg.

"Fine," I said, voice trembling with rage. "I'll do the stunts. But I'm staying."

"Jayme, you don't have to—" Kenan started.

"I need the money," I whispered. "And I won't let them run me off again."

Two hours later, I stood on a cliff edge. The scene: a jump into a stormy ocean (a water tank).

Cassie, standing off-camera, "accidentally" tripped over the wire. The safety harness jerked early.

I slipped.

I fell toward the concrete edge of the tank.

I braced for impact.

It didn't come.

Strong arms snatched me from the air. A body slammed into the concrete, taking the blow.

I gasped. I expected Kenan.

But the eyes staring down were amber. The scent was chocolate and rain.

Autry. He’d moved with Alpha speed, catching me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, breathless. For a second, the mask slipped, and he was just the boy who used to protect me.