Blake POV:

The humiliation burned hotter than the alcohol serving station. I had retrieved the keys, handed them to a valet, and returned to my station, my face burning. I wanted to leave. I wanted to shift and tear this place apart. But I had made a promise to myself: I would only reveal my true self to a man who loved Blake the girl, not Blake the Princess.

It seemed that man did not exist.

"Table seven needs a special," Mark barked at me as I passed the bar. "Jaden says the champagne is flat. She wants the 'Silver Mist' cocktail. Extra hot."

My stomach dropped. The Silver Mist was a gimmick drink, heated to a near boil and served with dry ice.

"Mark, I have other tables," I tried to argue.

"Do it, or you're fired. And if you're fired, Connor kicks you out of the pack house. Where will you go then, runt? The streets?"

I gritted my teeth and went to the bar. The bartender handed me the steaming glass on a tray. I could smell the acrid scent rising from it.

I walked toward the VIP section. The hallway was dimmer here, lined with plush velvet curtains. It was a blind spot for the security cameras.

Jaden was waiting for me. She wasn't at her table. She was leaning against the wall in the narrow corridor, blocking my path.

"You look pathetic in that uniform," she sneered. "Connor deserves a real wolf. A Luna who can give him strong pups. Not a genetic dead-end like you."

"Move, Jaden," I said, my voice steady. The tray was hot in my hands.

"Make me."

She stepped forward. I tried to step around her, but she was quick. She feigned a stumble, lurching toward me.

"Oh no!" she cried out, her voice fake and loud.

Her hand shot out, not to catch herself, but to strike the bottom of the tray.

The glass tipped.

Time seemed to slow down. The steaming, sticky liquid splashed over the rim. It didn't hit the floor. It hit my left hand.

"Ah!" I gasped, dropping the tray. It shattered with a deafening crash.

Pain. Absolute, blinding white pain.

This wasn't just hot liquid. As the steam cleared, I smelled it-the metallic, sulfurous scent of liquid silver concentrate. It was illegal to serve to wolves. It was poison.

Silver doesn't just burn a wolf; it stops the healing process. It eats through the skin like acid.

I clutched my wrist, falling to my knees. Smoke rose from my skin. My flesh bubbled and hissed. My inner wolf screamed in agony, thrashing against my skull.

"Help!" Jaden shrieked, backing away and pointing a manicured finger at me. "She attacked me! She tried to throw the drink in my face!"

Footsteps thundered down the hall. Mark appeared, followed by two security guards.

"What is going on here?" Mark roared.

"She's crazy!" Jaden sobbed, squeezing out crocodile tears. "I told her I didn't want her serving me, and she snapped! She tried to burn me!"

I looked up, sweat dripping down my forehead. "She... she hit the tray. It has silver in it, Mark. It's silver!"

Mark looked at my hand. The skin was red and raw, the burn deepening by the second. He could smell the burning flesh. He knew. Any wolf could smell the difference between a scald and a silver burn.

But Mark looked at Jaden, who was holding the "Blood Oath" pendant around her neck.

He turned back to me, his eyes cold.

"Clean this mess up, Blake," Mark spat. "You clumsy, vindictive Omega. You're lucky Miss Jaden is too kind to press charges."

"My hand..." I whispered, the pain making me dizzy.

"Go to the kitchen and put some ice on it. And stay out of sight. You're bad for business."

I stared at him. The injustice settled in my chest, heavy and cold, extinguishing the fire of my hope.

I didn't argue. I didn't cry. I stood up, cradling my mangled hand, and walked past them toward the kitchen.

My suppressor patch was peeling slightly from the sweat. My scent-the scent of winter storms and ozone-leaked out just a fraction. Mark frowned, sniffing the air confusedly, but I was already gone.

I had a debt to collect. And the interest was going to be high.

Blake POV:

The kitchen was a chaotic symphony of clanging pans and shouting line cooks, but the back prep area was quiet. I ran my hand under cold water, but it didn't help. The silver residue was already in my bloodstream, preventing the cells from knitting together.

"You need wolfsbane salve to draw out the metal."

The voice was deep, rumbling like a subterranean earthquake.

I turned. Austin Gordon, the head chef, was standing by the walk-in freezer. He was a massive man, over six-foot-five, with scars running down his forearms and eyes as dark as obsidian. He was a Rogue-a wolf without a pack-hired by Connor because his food was the best in the city.

But he didn't move like a cook. He was currently plating a dish with the surgical precision of a field medic or a sniper, placing garnish with tweezers that looked like toys in his massive hands.

Most people were terrified of him. He radiated a silent, lethal pressure.

"I don't have any," I said, my voice shaking.

Austin didn't speak. He reached into his pocket and tossed me a small tin. I caught it with my good hand.

"Apply it. Wrap it," he commanded. It wasn't an Alpha Command, but it carried natural authority.

Before I could thank him, the swinging doors burst open.

Jaden marched in. She looked out of place among the stainless steel and grease. She wrinkled her nose.

"It smells like wet dog in here," she complained. She walked right up to the pass, where Austin was plating a steak.

"This is medium," she said, poking the meat. "I wanted medium-rare. And put some caviar on it. The expensive kind."

Austin didn't look up. "No."

Jaden blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The steak is perfect. Caviar ruins the balance. Get out of my kitchen."

Jaden's face turned purple. She pulled out her phone. "I am going to have you fired. I am calling Connor right now!"

She hit the video call button. I expected it to go to voicemail, given Connor's important meeting. But seconds later, the line connected. Connor wasn't at the head of the table; he was in the hallway, looking harried and annoyed, clutching a stack of files.

"Jaden, I told you, I'm with the Redstone reps," Connor hissed, glancing over his shoulder.

"Connor!" Jaden wailed, turning the camera to her face. "They are bullying me! First your waitress tried to burn me, and now this Rogue cook is refusing to feed me!"

"I don't have time for this," Connor snapped, rubbing his temples. "Just give her what she wants so I can go back inside."

"Put Blake on," Connor ordered.

Jaden turned the camera to me. I was clutching the tin of salve, my hand wrapped in a towel stained with yellow pus and blood.

"Connor," I said, holding up my hand. "She used silver. Look at this."

Connor saw it. I saw his eyes widen. He knew what silver meant. For a second, I saw guilt. But then Jaden sobbed loudly, "I'm scared, Connor! She's looking at me like she wants to kill me! And Mark said she was threatening the guests!"

Connor looked back at the closed meeting room door. He was losing patience. He needed this problem to disappear so he could secure his funding.

His face hardened.

"Blake," he said, his voice dropping an octave. The air in the kitchen suddenly grew heavy. The gravity seemed to double.

"Apologize to Jaden. On your knees. Now."

It was the Alpha Command.

A wave of compulsion slammed into me. It was a physical force, trying to buckle my knees. My muscles spasmed. The biological imperative to obey the Alpha was woven into our DNA.

Austin stopped chopping. He looked at me, his knife hovering in the air.

My knees bent. The pain was excruciating. But then, something else surged.

My blood. The blood of the Moonstone line. The blood of Kings.

An Alpha does not bow to a fool.

I gritted my teeth. I locked my legs. I shook violently, sweat pouring down my face as I fought the Command. It felt like my bones were going to snap.

But I did not kneel.

I stared into the camera lens, my eyes burning.

"No," I whispered.

Connor looked shocked. An Omega resisting a direct Command? It was impossible.

"I said kneel!" he roared.

I reached out and tapped the 'End Call' button on Jaden's phone. The screen went black.

The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Jaden looked terrified. She had expected me to collapse. Instead, I was standing taller than before.

I turned to Austin. The suppressor patch on my neck was itching unbearable. It was done. The charade was over.

"Chef," I said, my voice eerily calm. "Lock the door."

Blake POV:

Austin didn't hesitate. He walked to the heavy service door and threw the deadbolt. The clack of the metal echoed like a gunshot.

"What are you doing?" Jaden shrieked. "You can't lock me in here! This is kidnapping!"

I ignored her. I reached into the back pocket of my apron, past the cheap notepad, and pulled out a device I hadn't touched in three years. It was a sleek, black satellite phone with a single button.

I pressed it.

"Identify," a voice answered instantly. It wasn't a receptionist. It was the Royal Command Center.

"Code Black," I said. My voice had changed. The submissive tremolo of Blake the Omega was gone. This was the voice of someone used to giving orders. "Location: Shadow Creek Territory, Velvet Lounge. Target: Hostile civilians and a compromised Alpha."

There was a pause. Then, a voice I knew better than my own thundered through the line.

"Blake?" It was King David Shaw. My father. "Who dared?"

"Send the Guard, Dad. Send Lina. And tell her to bring the Severance of Mate Protocol."

"They will be there in nine minutes," he growled. "Burn it down if you have to, little wolf."

I hung up.

I turned to Mark, who had followed Jaden into the kitchen. He was pale, pressing himself against the dishwashing station.

"Pray to the Moon Goddess, Mark," I said softly.

Jaden laughed nervously. "Who were you calling? The police? Connor owns the police!"

I walked over to the sink and ripped the patch off my neck.

It stung, but the relief was instant. It was like taking a deep breath after being underwater for years. My scent exploded into the room.

It wasn't the weak, dusty smell of an Omega. It was a tsunami of Winter Frost, Ozone, and White Lotus. It was a scent so potent, so undeniably Royal, that Mark fell to his knees instantly, his wolf forcing him into submission.

Austin stood still, leaning against the counter. He inhaled deeply, his dark eyes locking onto mine. He didn't bow. He didn't cower. He watched me with an intensity that made my skin prickle, handing me a clean towel soaked in ice water for my hand.

"Nine minutes," I murmured to him.

"I'll keep the steak warm," he replied.

Exactly eight minutes and forty seconds later, sirens wailed outside. Not police sirens. These were the low-frequency sonic pulses of the Royal Enforcers.

The back door of the kitchen shook as someone tried to open it.

"Open up! It's Connor!"

Austin looked at me. I nodded.

He unlocked the door.

Connor burst in, breathless, his eyes wild. Behind him, through the open door, I could see black SUVs surrounding the building. Wolves in full tactical gear with the Moonstone crest on their chests were securing the perimeter.

"What is going on?" Connor yelled. "Who called the-"

He stopped. He hit the wall of my scent.

His nostrils flared. His eyes dilated. He looked at me-really looked at me-and his face drained of all color. The realization hit him like a freight train. The scent wasn't coming from outside. It was coming from the waitress he had just ordered to kneel.

"Blake?" he whispered. "You... you're a..."

"A White Wolf," I finished for him. "And the daughter of the King you swore allegiance to."

Lina, the Captain of the Royal Guard, stepped through the door. She was seven feet tall in her shifted form, currently in human form but wearing combat armor. She held a leather portfolio.

She didn't look at Connor. She walked straight to me and bowed her head.

"Your Highness. The perimeter is secure."

I took the towel from my hand, revealing the angry, bubbling silver burn.

"Lina," I said, my voice cold as the grave. "Give the Alpha his papers."

Lina threw the portfolio at Connor's feet.

"Connor," I said. "Now... you crawl to me."