"Don't touch me! Please, just... just let me sit down," Chloe gasped, her voice cracking as the massive obsidian doors of the Lycan King’s foyer groaned shut behind them. The sound was final, a heavy thud that seemed to sever her connection to the living world. She swayed on her feet, the adrenaline that had fueled her flight through the Shadow Woods evaporating and leaving only a hollow, aching exhaustion.

Valerius did not step away. He stood like a monolith of dark stone, his presence filling the vaulted hall until the air felt thick enough to swallow. "You are safe here, Chloe. But you will not sit. Not until you understand exactly what you are," he rumbled. His voice wasn't unkind, but it carried the weight of five centuries of absolute rule. He reached out, his large, gloved hand hovering near her shoulder without making contact.

Chloe’s POV: She looked up at the towering man, her eyes stinging with fresh tears. The grandeur of the obsidian castle—the shimmering black floors that looked like frozen water, the torches that burned with a strange, violet flame—was terrifying. But it was the way Valerius looked at her that truly unnerved her. He didn't look at her with the pity she’d received as an Omega or the disgust Jace had shown at the altar. He looked at her like a man seeing the sun for the first time after an eternity in a cave.

"I know what I am," Chloe whispered, her hands clutching the tattered remains of her ceremonial dress. "I’m a void. Jace showed everyone. The tests... they said I’m sterile. I’m a broken Omega who can’t give a pack anything. That’s why he chose Bella. That’s why he threw me away."

"Jace is a blind whelp playing with matches in a world of lightning," Valerius spat, his obsidian eyes flashing with a sudden, violent heat. He took a step closer, forcing Chloe to tilt her head back. "He looked for a vessel to carry a common wolf, and when he found your soul too vast for his meager bloodline, he called it empty. You are not a void, Chloe. You are a Lunar Vessel."

"A what?" Chloe asked, her brow furrowing. "I don't understand those words. The Moon Goddess made me weak. She made me the lowest rank."

"She made you a temple," Valerius corrected, his voice dropping to a low, reverent growl. He began to pace around her, his heavy boots clicking against the polished floor. "A wolf's womb carries a litter. A Lunar Vessel carries the essence of the Goddess herself. You were never meant to be the mate of a mere Alpha. Your body was designed to house the power of the King of Kings. You were 'sterile' to Jace because his spark was too weak to even ignite the pilot light of your soul."

Chloe shook her head, her mind reeling. "No, that’s just a story. A myth. I’ve felt weak my whole life. I’ve been pushed down, bitten, and mocked. If I had that kind of power, wouldn't I have felt it?"

Valerius stopped directly in front of her. "It was dormant, waiting for the one key that could unlock it. The Goddess did not make you an Omega; she made you a Queen in waiting. And I have waited longer than any man should be asked to wait."

"So what happens now?" Chloe asked, her voice trembling. "Do you keep me here as a guest? Do I... do I serve you?"

"You do not serve me," Valerius said, and for a fleeting second, his expression softened into something almost tender. "You rule with me. But first, the bond Jace tried to sever must be replaced. The vacuum in your soul is dangerous, Chloe. It will pull in the darkness of this forest and consume you if it isn't filled by a true claim."

"Wait," Chloe said, taking a step back as a new kind of fear spiked in her chest. "You mean a mark? You want to mark me? Now? I just... I just lost everything. I can't think straight. I need time."

"Time is a luxury the dying do not have," Valerius stated. He wasn't asking. The air in the room began to vibrate, the violet torches flaring bright as his Lycan aura expanded. "The Silver Moon hunters are still at my borders. If they find you without a King’s protection, they will kill you. I will not lose you again because of your hesitation."

"Valerius, please, let's talk about this!" Chloe cried, her heart racing. "I don't even know you!"

"You have known me in your dreams since you were a child," he countered, his hand suddenly moving with the speed of a striking viper.

Chloe’s POV: She didn't have time to scream. Valerius’s hand didn't grab her throat; it cupped the back of her head, pulling her firmly toward him. His other hand gripped her waist, anchoring her against his armored chest. He smelled of old parchment, cold iron, and a wild, intoxicating musk that made her wolf—the one she thought was dead—suddenly howl with a ferocity she had never known.

"This will hurt," Valerius whispered against her ear, "but it will be the last time anyone ever makes you feel small."

Before she could protest again, his head dropped. He didn't bite with the hesitation of a lover; he claimed with the authority of a god. His fangs pierced the sensitive skin of her neck, right over the jagged rejection scar Jace had left.

Chloe’s world exploded.

It wasn't just the pain of the bite, which was sharp and searing. It was the flood of power that followed. It felt as if a dam had burst inside her chest, pouring liquid silver into her veins. The "void" Jace had spoken of was suddenly filled with a roaring, incandescent fire. She felt her vision turn white, her feet leaving the floor as Valerius held her. The power didn't stay contained within them; it surged outward in a visible shockwave of white and violet light.

The windows of the obsidian hall shattered inward, the glass turning to dust before it hit the floor. The very foundations of the castle groaned, and outside, the ancient trees of the Shadow Woods bowed so low their branches snapped.

Chloe’s POV: She could feel it spreading. The mark wasn't just a brand on her skin; it was a tether that lashed her soul to his. She saw visions of five centuries of loneliness—Valerius sitting on a throne of bone, watching the moon, waiting for a girl who hadn't been born yet. She felt his hunger, his possessiveness, and his absolute, unshakeable loyalty.

"Mine," a voice echoed in her mind—not her voice, and not quite Valerius's, but the voice of the bond itself.

The surge of energy reached its peak and then snapped, a psychic boom that rippled across the landscape. It traveled through the trees, over the rivers, and slammed into the borders of the Silver Moon territory like a physical blow. Every wolf in the hemisphere felt it—a sudden, crushing pressure that forced them to their knees, their instincts screaming that a new, superior power had been born.

Valerius finally pulled back, his fangs retracting, though a smear of Chloe’s blood remained on his lip. He looked at her, his obsidian eyes now glowing with an unbearable brilliance. Chloe gasped for air, her skin shimmering with a faint, silvery light that refused to fade. The mark on her neck was no longer a scar; it was a beautiful, intricate sigil of a moon entwined with a crown, pulsing with a steady, rhythmic glow.

"There," Valerius breathed, his voice ragged. "It is done. You are a Vessel no longer empty."

Chloe leaned against him, her body humming with a terrifying amount of energy. "I... I can feel everyone," she whispered, her eyes wide. "I can feel the forest. I can feel... him."

Jace’s POV: Back at the Silver Moon Pack’s Great Hall, the celebration was in full swing. Jace sat on his throne, a cup of wine in one hand and Bella’s thigh in the other. He was laughing at a joke made by one of his enforcers, feeling the high of his new "strength" and the relief of being rid of the "Omega dead weight."

"To the new Luna!" a warrior shouted, raising his glass.

Jace opened his mouth to respond, but the words never came.

Suddenly, a localized earthquake seemed to hit the hall. The floorboards buckled. But the physical shaking was nothing compared to the agony that ripped through Jace’s chest. It felt as if a giant, invisible hand had reached into his ribcage and grabbed his very soul, twisting it with the intent to break it.

"Agh!" Jace shrieked, dropping his wine. The glass shattered, staining his boots red.

He fell forward off his throne, his hands clutching at his heart. It felt like his chest was being hollowed out. The bond he had so arrogantly severed earlier that night was being forcibly overwritten by something infinitely more powerful.

"Jace! What's happening?" Bella screamed, reaching for him, but she was thrown back by a literal spark of static electricity that jumped from his skin.

Jace couldn't answer. He was gasping, his lungs refusing to take in air. He felt a presence in his mind—a cold, terrifyingly vast presence that dwarfed his own Alpha status until he felt like an ant under a boot. He saw a flash of silver light, and within that light, he saw Chloe. But it wasn't the Chloe he knew. She was radiant, terrifying, and she was standing in the arms of a monster made of shadows and obsidian.

"No," Jace wheezed, his eyes bulging as the pain intensified. "No, she was... she was nothing!"

The agony reached a crescendo, a soul-deep rip that made him howl in a way that sounded like a wounded animal rather than a proud Alpha. He felt his own "Alpha" aura—the very thing he prized most—flicker and dim, crushed under the weight of a superior claim.

Around the room, his warriors were also collapsing, clutching their heads as the psychic shockwave of the King’s Mark battered their senses. The joy of the evening had turned into a scene from a nightmare.

Jace curled into a fetal position on the floor, his crown rolling away into the shadows. He could feel it. Somewhere in the distance, his "discarded" mate was being claimed by a King. And even through the pain, he knew one thing with terrifying certainty: his rejection hadn't destroyed Chloe. It had unchained her.

"What have I done?" Jace whispered into the dirt

"Don’t let go, Valerius! It feels like my skin is boiling! Make it stop, please!" Chloe’s voice was a jagged shard of glass, echoing off the obsidian walls of the King’s private sanctum. She was hunched over on the velvet furs, her fingers clawing at the stone flooring. The silver light that had begun with the mark was no longer a glow; it was a conflagration, radiating from her marrow and pushing against her very pores.

Valerius’s POV: He stood over her, his obsidian eyes burning with a mixture of predatory pride and deep, ancient concern. He didn't pull away. Instead, he dropped to one knee, pinning her thrashing shoulders down with his massive, gloved hands. "I cannot stop what the Goddess has ordained, Chloe. Breathe. The 'weakness' they lied to you about is shedding. Let the brown fur die. Let the Omega burn away."

"I can't... it hurts too much!" Chloe gasped, her back arching as a sickening crack echoed through the room. Her spine was lengthening, her ribs shifting and expanding to accommodate a frame that was no longer meant for servitude. "Jace... he said I was nothing. Why is this happening?"

"Jace saw a pebble and called it worthless because he couldn't see the diamond inside," Valerius growled, his voice vibrating in her chest. "You are molting, my Queen. You are shedding the skin of a slave to wear the coat of a god. Look at me! Do not focus on the pain. Focus on the power I gave you."

Chloe’s POV: She tried to focus on his eyes, but the world was dissolving into a kaleidoscope of silver and white. The sensation of her skin tearing was replaced by an intense, itchy heat. Long, coarse tufts of her dull brown Omega fur began to fall away, littering the black floor like dead leaves. Beneath it, something else was emerging—hair that looked like spun moonlight, thick and shimmering with an ethereal luster.

"It’s too much," Chloe whispered, her voice deepening into a low, resonant thrum. "I can hear things, Valerius. So many voices... they’re screaming."

"Whose voices, Chloe?" Valerius asked, his grip tightening as her muscles surged with new, terrifying density.

"The pack... the Silver Moon," she choked out, her claws—now longer and tipped with silver—digging grooves into the obsidian. "I can hear them. I can hear all of them. They think I'm dead. They're... they're laughing."

Chloe’s POV: The transformation hit its crescendo. Her sense of hearing didn't just sharpen; it transcended. It was as if her mind had become a radio tower, picking up every psychic frequency in the hemisphere. She wasn't just hearing the wind or the trees; she was hearing the unfiltered, ugly thoughts of the wolves who had spat on her for twenty years.

"Look at the white fur," Valerius whispered, his voice full of awe.

Chloe let out a final, guttural roar that shattered the remaining crystal vials on the nearby shelves. Her body expanded one last time, her human form giving way entirely to a beast of legend. She stood on four massive paws, her head reaching Valerius’s chest even while he was standing. She was no longer a small, scruffy brown wolf. She was a massive Lycan, her coat a blinding, pure white that seemed to drink in the violet torchlight. Her ears and the tip of her tail were brushed with the color of liquid mercury.

"I... I am whole," Chloe thought, and to her surprise, the thought echoed in the room like a spoken word. She looked at her reflection in the polished obsidian wall. The creature staring back was a nightmare of beauty and ferocity.

"You are a Lunar Lycan," Valerius said, reaching out to stroke the silver-tipped fur on her shoulder. "The first of your kind to walk this earth in a millennium. Do you feel them now? The ones who doubted you?"

Chloe’s POV: She closed her eyes, and the "voices" became a deafening roar. She realized with a jolt of ice-cold clarity that the bond Valerius had placed on her hadn't just connected her to him; it had heightened her "Vessel" status, allowing her to tap into the collective consciousness of every wolf marked by a lesser Alpha.

“Good riddance to that sterile bitch,” a voice hissed in her mind—it was Sarah, the pack healer who had always pretended to be her friend.

“I hope the Shadow Woods tore her apart slowly,” another thought drifted in—this one belonged to Jax, Jace’s lead enforcer. “Alpha Jace was right to cull the weak.”

Chloe’s hackles rose, a low, tectonic growl vibrating in her throat. The silver tips of her ears flickered. "They hate me. They still hate me, even when they think I'm gone."

"Hatred is the tribute the small pay to the great," Valerius remarked, his eyes tracking the way the silver light pulsed under her fur. "Can you hear the one who broke you?"

Chloe searched the psychic static, pushing past the whispers of the rank-and-file until she hit a wall of arrogant, chaotic energy. It was Jace. His thoughts were a mess of pain and denial, fueled by the shock of the King’s Mark.

“She’s a thief,” Jace’s voice echoed in Chloe’s skull, sharp and desperate. “She stole the pack’s luck. She must have used some Omega trickery to lure the Lycan King. I’ll get her back. I’ll drag her back by her throat and show the King he was played for a fool.”

Chloe’s wolf form let out a huff of derisive laughter. "He thinks I'm a thief, Valerius. He thinks I 'stole' something from him."

"He is a man who has lost his grip on reality because he cannot fathom his own irrelevance," Valerius said, standing up and smoothing his tunic. "But he is about to become very useful to us. The transformation is complete, Chloe. You have the body of a queen and the ears of a goddess. Now, you need the heart of a ruler."

"What do you mean?" Chloe asked, her mind still reeling from the sheer volume of spite she was sensing from her former home.

"You can hear their thoughts, which means you know their secrets," Valerius said, a cruel, elegant smile touching his lips. "You know where they are weak. You know who is plotting against Jace, and you know who is truly loyal to the crown. Knowledge is the sharpest blade in this palace."

Chloe’s POV: She trotted toward the window, her new paws silent on the stone. She looked out over the vast expanse of the Shadow Woods, toward the distant, flickering lights of the Silver Moon territory. For the first time in her life, she didn't feel like a victim. She felt like a predator watching an ant hill.

"I want them to feel it," Chloe projected, her thoughts sharp and cold. "I want them to know that every time they whispered a lie about me, I was listening. I want Jace to know that he didn't reject a 'void.' He rejected the only thing that could have saved him."

"Patience, my Queen," Valerius said, stepping up behind her and resting a heavy hand on her silver-tipped head. "Revenge is a dish best served in front of an audience. And it seems our audience is making their first move."

A sharp rap at the door interrupted them. One of Valerius’s dark-clad guards entered, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the floor.

"My King," the guard said, his voice trembling in the presence of the newly transformed Chloe. "A messenger has arrived at the outer gate. He bears the seal of the Silver Moon Pack."

Valerius raised a brow. "Is that so? And what does the little Alpha want?"

The guard swallowed hard, casting a nervous glance at the massive white Lycan standing by the window. "Alpha Jace is requesting an official audience. He claims he is coming to 'report a rogue thief' who fled into your woods. He says she has stolen sacred artifacts from his pack and that he wishes to assist the King in her execution to... ensure no offense was taken by your Majesty."

Chloe’s POV: A snarl ripped from her throat before she could stop it, the sound so powerful it made the guard flinch and stumble backward. The sheer audacity of Jace—to follow her here, to lie to the Lycan King, and to offer to "help" kill her—was the final spark her new heart needed. The last shred of her love for him didn't just die; it was vaporized.

"He wants to report a thief?" Chloe’s thought projected through the room, dripping with icy sarcasm. "He wants to assist in my execution?"

Valerius looked at her, his obsidian eyes dancing with a dark, wicked delight. He saw the fire in her silver-tipped ears and the way her massive claws were unsheathed against the stone. This was the woman he had waited five centuries for—not a victim to be saved, but a partner in vengeance.

"He truly has no idea what he has walked into, does he?" Valerius mused. He turned back to the guard, his cloak swirling around him like a cloud of smoke. "Tell the Alpha that the Lycan King is a stickler for justice. Tell him I would be honored to hear his grievances. Tell him to bring his 'Luna' and his finest warriors. I want a full court for this."

"Yes, my King," the guard whispered, scurrying out of the room as if the air itself were trying to strangle him.

Valerius turned back to Chloe, who was now pacing the room with the fluid, lethal grace of a creature that knew its own strength. She looked like a ghost made of snow and moonlight, a beautiful nightmare.

"Are you ready, Chloe?" Valerius asked, his voice a low, seductive purr of violence. "By tomorrow evening, the man who called you a 'void' will be kneeling at your paws, begging for a death he doesn't deserve."

Chloe’s POV: She stopped pacing and looked at the mark on her shoulder, then at the King who had given her everything. The voices of the Silver Moon Pack were still buzzing in her head, but they were no longer a burden. They were a map. A map to their destruction.

"I don't want him to beg," Chloe thought, her eyes flashing a brilliant, terrifying silver. "I want him to watch while I take everything he ever loved. Just like he did to me."

Valerius’s smile widened, revealing his own sharpened fangs. He reached out and tilted her head up, his gaze locking with hers. "That’s my Queen. Let them come, Chloe. Let them bring their lies and their pride to my gate."

He leaned down and whispered the final words against her silver-tipped ear, words that promised a reckoning the world would never forget.

"Let them come to their own funeral."

"Why are we being kept in this drafty hall like common rogues, Jace? My feet are swelling, and this place smells like a crypt!" Bella’s voice, sharp and entitled, echoed off the towering obsidian walls of the Lycan King’s outer vestibule. She clutched Jace’s arm, her fingers digging into the expensive leather of his jacket. "We are the leadership of the Silver Moon. We shouldn't be standing here while some shadow-faced guards stare us down."

Jace’s POV: Jace adjusted the collar of his formal tunic, his jaw tight enough to crack. The psychic agony from the previous night had settled into a dull, thumping ache behind his eyes, but his pride remained wounded and festering. "Shut it, Bella. This isn't a regional council meeting. This is the Lycan King's court. If you want to be the Luna of a pack that survives the week, you’ll learn to wait until Valerius decides we exist."

"But to be treated like servants..." Bella hissed, glancing at the silent, armored guards flanking the massive doors. "It’s insulting. We came here to do him a favor! We’re helping him find that thief."

"We’re here to make sure Chloe is dead," Jace corrected in a low, dangerous whisper. He shifted his weight, trying to ignore the way the very air in the palace seemed to be pressing down on his Alpha aura, making it feel small and insignificant. "If she survived the night in these woods, she’s a witness to things I’d rather keep buried. The 'tests,' the lineage... we need the King to execute her so there are no questions asked by the Council."

"She’s dead, Jace. No Omega survives the Shadow Woods," Bella sneered, though she moved closer to him as a low, unnatural growl vibrated through the floorboards. "She’s probably a pile of bones in a ditch. We’re just here for the formal confirmation."

The massive obsidian doors at the far end of the hall suddenly groaned open, the sound like two mountains grinding together. A high-ranking Lycan official, draped in silks the color of dried blood, stepped out. He didn't offer a bow or a greeting.

"The King will see you now," the official stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "Leave your weapons. Leave your pride. Enter only when your name is called."

Jace’s POV: Jace felt a surge of indignation, but he suppressed it. He was used to being the most powerful man in any room, but the Lycan Palace was a different world. As they walked through the threshold, the scale of the throne room hit them like a physical blow. It was a cavernous space of black stone and violet fire, where the ceiling was lost in a swirl of artificial constellations. Dozens of Lycan nobles stood in the shadows, their eyes glowing with a predatory curiosity that made Jace’s skin crawl.

"Stay close," Jace muttered to Bella, who had finally gone silent, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and terror.

They were led to the center of the vast chamber, a circular dais surrounded by a shallow moat of what looked like liquid silver. At the far end, atop a flight of jagged stone steps, sat the throne. It was empty. But as they approached the base of the steps, Jace noticed a figure already in the room.

A woman was walking slowly toward the throne, her back turned to them. She was draped in royal silks of pure, shimmering white that trailed behind her like a fallen cloud. Her hair, once a dull and matted brown, was now a waterfall of luminous silver-white, cascading down to her waist. She moved with a fluid, ethereal grace that didn't seem human—or even entirely wolf. It was the gait of something ancient and untouchable.

Jace’s POV: Jace froze for a second, his heart skipping a beat. There was something hauntingly familiar about the curve of her shoulders, the way she tilted her head as she looked up at the empty throne. For a fleeting, panicked moment, he thought of Chloe. He thought of the girl he had discarded at the altar, the "sterile Omega" he had kicked into the dirt.

No, he thought, shaking his head to clear the delusion. That’s impossible. That woman looks like a goddess. Chloe was a mouse. A pathetic, plain thing that couldn't even hold her head up.

"Look at her dress," Bella whispered, her voice dripping with jealousy. "Who is she? A concubine? Or the Queen? I heard the King was unmarried."

"Probably just a servant of the High Court," Jace replied, though his eyes remained glued to the woman in white. "The Lycans have always had a flair for the dramatic. Don't let the silks fool you, Bella. She’s probably just another piece of furniture in this cave."

But as they stood there, waiting in the stifling silence, the woman stopped at the base of the throne. She didn't sit. She simply stood there, looking at the obsidian seat as if she were deciding whether or not it was worthy of her.

"Excuse me," Jace called out, his voice echoing a bit too loudly in the hollow space. He wanted to assert some form of dominance, to prove he wasn't intimidated by the opulence. "We are here for an audience with King Valerius. We were told he was ready to hear our report regarding a rogue."

The woman didn't move. She didn't even acknowledge he had spoken.

"Did you hear me?" Jace snapped, his Alpha temper beginning to fray. "I am Alpha Jace of the Silver Moon. I don't care how favored a servant you are, you will show the proper respect when a guest of the King speaks to you."

Bella stepped forward, emboldened by Jace’s tone. "Maybe she’s deaf? Or maybe she’s just as stuck-up as the rest of these shadow-dwellers. Hey! We’re talking to you!"

The woman finally began to turn. It was a slow, deliberate movement, the silk of her gown whispering against the stone.

Jace’s POV: Jace felt a sudden, cold dread wash over him. It started at the base of his spine and radiated outward, chilling his blood. His wolf, which had been agitated since he entered the palace, suddenly went silent. Not a peaceful silence, but the silence of a creature that has just realized it is standing in the shadow of a mountain that is about to fall.

His Alpha instincts, the very core of his identity, began to scream. It was a primal, gut-wrenching alarm. Kneel, the instinct whispered. Kneel or die.

"Jace, look at her face..." Bella’s voice trailed off, her hand going to her mouth.

As the woman completed her turn, the violet torches in the room flared to a blinding intensity. The light caught her features, and Jace felt the floor beneath him turn to water.

It was Chloe.

But it wasn't the Chloe he had known for twenty years. Her skin was flawless, glowing with an inner radiance that made her seem carved from moonlight. Her eyes, once a soft, pleading hazel, were now twin pools of brilliant, liquid silver—the color of a Lycan of the highest order. There was no trace of the Omega's fear, no hint of the "void" he had mocked. She stood there, draped in the wealth of a kingdom, looking at him as if he were a speck of dust on her sleeve.

"Chloe?" Jace whispered, his voice cracking. The word felt like a sin in this room. "How... how are you alive? What is this trickery?"

Chloe’s POV: She looked at the man who had been her entire world, the man she had once promised to die for. She saw the sweat on his brow, the way his hands were shaking, and the pathetic, gaping expression on his face. Behind him, she saw Bella—the sister who had stolen her life—looking like a common peasant in her "formal" pack gear.

The "voices" she had heard during her transformation were quiet now, replaced by a singular, cold clarity. She could feel Jace’s fear. It tasted like sour milk. She could feel his Alpha aura trying to fight back, but it was like a candle flame trying to hold back the tide.

"You called me a rogue, Jace," Chloe said. Her voice was no longer a thread of hope; it was a melody of power, resonant and deep, vibrating with the authority of the King’s Mark. "You told the King I was a thief."

"You... you are Chloe," Bella gasped, stepping back, her face turning a sickly shade of grey. "But you're white. Your hair... your eyes... what did you do? What dark magic did you use to look like this?"

"I didn't do anything, Bella," Chloe replied, her silver eyes narrowing slightly. "I simply stopped being what you told me I was. I shed the skin of the girl you broke, and I found the Queen you couldn't hide."

Jace’s POV: Jace took a step forward, his mind reeling. He reached out a hand, his fingers twitching. "Chloe, listen to me. I don't know how you survived, or what the King did to you, but you belong to the Silver Moon. You’re under my jurisdiction. I’ll explain everything to Valerius. We’ll get you back home, and we’ll—"

"Home?" Chloe interrupted, a small, chilling smile touching her lips. "I am home, Alpha Jace."

At that moment, the shadows behind the throne seemed to detach themselves from the wall. Valerius stepped forward, his massive frame looming over Chloe, his hand coming to rest possessively on her shoulder. His obsidian eyes scanned Jace and Bella with a look of such profound contempt it felt like a physical weight.

"You speak to my Queen as if she were a runaway dog," Valerius rumbled, his voice shaking the very foundation of the dais. "You stand in my house and dare to claim what the Goddess has placed in my care."

Jace’s POV: Jace felt his knees buckle. The sheer force of Valerius’s presence, combined with the terrifying radiance coming from Chloe, was too much. His wolf was whimpering now, a sound of absolute submission that he couldn't control. He looked at Chloe—the woman he had called sterile, the woman he had hunted for sport—and realized with a soul-crushing finality that the "void" he had seen was actually a mirror reflecting his own emptiness.

"Kneel," Valerius commanded, the word a thunderclap that shattered the silence.

Jace fought it. He gritted his teeth, his muscles bulging as he tried to stay upright. He was an Alpha! He didn't kneel to anyone! But as he looked into Chloe’s silver eyes, he saw the mark on her neck—the royal sigil pulsing with a violet light. It was the King’s Mark. She wasn't a guest. She wasn't a servant.

She was his superior in every way that mattered.

"Kneel, Jace," Chloe whispered, her voice carrying a weight of command that bypassed his mind and went straight to his blood. "Show your Queen the respect you denied your mate."

Jace’s legs gave out. He hit the obsidian floor with a bone-jarring thud, his forehead touching the cold stone. Beside him, Bella collapsed in a heap of silk and sobbing terror.

The Alpha of the Silver Moon was on his knees. And the girl he had discarded was looking down at him from the heights of a throne he would never reach.

"Now," Chloe said, her voice dripping with a terrifying, calm menace. "Let’s talk about that 'theft' you were so concerned about."