Ava POV:

Harrison brought me home the next morning. He played the part of the concerned mate perfectly for the crew, carrying me to the car, telling them I had "seasickness."

I didn't fight him. The Wolfsbane was still in my system, making my limbs feel like jelly. I needed to bide my time.

He dumped me in our bedroom and left immediately for the Pack Hospital with Brooke. "Prenatal checkup," he had said, beaming like a proud father.

The moment the front door clicked shut, I dragged myself out of bed.

I needed proof.

I went to his study. The door was locked, but I knew where the spare key was-hidden in the hollow spine of a fake book on the shelf. The Art of War. How fitting.

I unlocked the door and went straight to his desk. I booted up his computer. I knew his password: SilverLakeAlpha1 . His ego was his vulnerability.

I scanned his emails. Nothing. He was careful.

Then I checked the blocked list on the Pack's communication server.

My breath hitched.

Hundreds of messages. All from Dustin. All blocked.

Ava, pick up.

Ava, Dad's research... it's about you.

Ava, don't trust the Seer.

And one outgoing message from Harrison's terminal, sent six months ago, pretending to be me:

Dustin, stop contacting me. You are a Rogue and a disgrace. I never want to speak to you again.

"You bastard," I hissed.

I pulled out my phone. It was smashed from the 'accident' on the boat-another lie. I grabbed the landline on the desk.

I dialed the number I had memorized since childhood.

"Hello?" A gruff voice answered.

"Dustin," I whispered.

"Ava?" His voice cracked. "Is that you? I thought... the message said..."

"It wasn't me. It was Harrison. Dustin, I need help. I need extraction."

"Where are you?"

"Pack House. But I can't leave through the front. The Enforcers are everywhere."

"Listen to me," Dustin said, his voice turning hard. "I have a merc team two hours out. But you need to survive until then. And Ava... Dad's totem. The bone carving. Do you have it?"

"It's in the attic," I said.

"Get it. It's not just a carving. It's a key. It unlocks your seal. You are a White Wolf, Ava. You aren't defective. You're a goddamn weapon."

The line went dead. Harrison must have remote-cut the connection.

I ran to the attic. My heart pounded against my ribs.

I found the old dusty trunk. I threw it open.

Empty.

"Looking for this?"

I spun around.

Brooke stood at the top of the stairs. She was holding the bone totem-a jagged piece of ancient wolf bone covered in runes.

"Give it to me," I said, my voice low.

"It's full of dark magic," Brooke said, tossing it in her hand like a toy. "I can feel it. Your parents were into some sick stuff, Ava. No wonder they died."

"Don't you dare talk about them."

"Your mother was weak," Brooke sneered, stepping closer. "She begged for her life. Did you know that? She begged me to save her children."

Red. My vision went completely red.

I didn't think. I didn't plan. I launched myself at her.

I tackled her to the ground. My hands found her throat. I wasn't shifting, but I felt claws-etheric, sharp claws-extending from my human fingers.

"Die!" I screamed.

Brooke's eyes went wide. For a second, she looked genuinely terrified.

Then, she smirked.

She reached into her purse, which had fallen beside her, and pulled out a heavy silver paperweight she must have stolen from the study.

Crack.

She slammed it into my temple.

Pain exploded in my head. I rolled off her, clutching my bleeding skull.

Brooke didn't get up. She lay back, ruffled her hair, and then let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"Help! Harrison! Help me! My baby!"

I looked up through the blood dripping into my eye.

Harrison was standing at the bottom of the attic stairs. He looked up, saw Brooke on the floor clutching her stomach, and saw me with blood on my hands.

"Ava!" he roared.

The Alpha Command hit me like a physical blow, pinning me to the floorboards.

"You attacked my heir!"

He bounded up the stairs, his face twisted in a mask of pure fury.

I looked at Brooke. She winked.

I closed my eyes. Dustin, hurry.

Ava POV:

The air in the attic was thick with the scent of ozone and impending violence. That was the smell of an Alpha losing control.

Harrison stood over me, his chest heaving, his eyes flashing that dangerous amber.

"I said, silence!"

The Alpha Command slammed into me like a physical weight. It wrapped around my throat, choking off my words. My vocal cords paralyzed. I tried to scream that Brooke was faking it, that she had attacked me, but only a strangled whimper came out.

"My heir," Harrison growled, kneeling beside Brooke.

Brooke was putting on the performance of a lifetime. She clutched her flat stomach, tears streaming down her face, wailing about cramping and spotting.

"She tried to kill him, Harry! She's jealous! She's crazy!" Brooke sobbed, burying her face in his neck.

Harrison looked at me. There was no love in his eyes. Only disgust.

"Enforcers!" he bellowed, his voice carrying through the entire Pack House.

Minutes later, heavy boots thundered up the stairs. Three large men in tactical gear burst into the attic. They wore the insignia of the Pack Enforcers, but I knew them. They were Harrison's drinking buddies.

"Take her," Harrison ordered, pointing at me. "She attacked the future Luna. She is a threat to the Pack."

Two of them grabbed my arms. They didn't hold back. Their fingers dug into my bruised flesh, dragging me up.

I fought against the Command, my will battling his dominance.

Let. Me. Speak.

I bit my tongue until I tasted copper. The sharp pain broke the hold just enough.

"Check... the... cameras," I rasped, my voice sounding like gravel.

Harrison paused. He looked at the security node in the corner of the room.

"The system is down," one of the Enforcers said quickly. "Magic crystal malfunction. The recording loop was wiped an hour ago."

Of course it was.

"Convenient," I spat, gaining a little more control over my voice. "You erased it."

"Take her to the holding cells," Harrison said, turning his back on me to lift Brooke into his arms bridal style.

"I am calling the Council!" I screamed. "You can't do this without a trial! I am a free wolf!"

Harrison stopped at the door. He didn't turn around. "You are a Pack member under my jurisdiction. And you just attempted regicide."

They dragged me down the stairs. I kicked and thrashed, but I was an Omega against Warrior-class wolves. They threw me into a cell in the basement-a damp, silver-lined cage usually reserved for Rogues.

I sat in the corner, shivering. The silver in the bars made my skin itch and my healing stall. The wound on my head from Brooke's paperweight throbbed.

Hours later, the heavy metal door creaked open.

Harrison walked in. He wasn't holding food. He held a stack of papers.

He set them on the floor and slid them through the bars.

"Sign it," he said, his voice stiff.

I looked at the document. Confession of Guilt. Voluntary Exile.

"You want me to admit to attacking a pregnant woman?" I asked, my voice trembling with rage. "I won't do it."

"Brooke and the baby are in distress," Harrison said, his face a mask of cold duty. "The stress of a trial would be too much for her. If you sign this, I will exile you. You live. You leave. If you don't..."

"If I don't?"

"Then I execute you for treason under Pack Law," he said. "The Council will back me. I have witnesses."

"You have liars," I spat. "You deleted the footage."

"I did what I had to do to protect the reputation of the Pack," he replied, not denying it. "If the Council saw a fight between my... companion and the Seer, they would deem my house unstable."

"Your companion?" I stood up, ignoring the dizziness. "I am not your companion, Harrison. According to your own lawyer, I'm not your Mate. I'm not your Luna. I'm just a tenant you're illegally detaining."

"Stop it, Ava." He ran a hand through his hair. "Sign the papers. It's the only mercy I can offer you."

"Mercy?" I laughed, a harsh sound. "You call this mercy? You're erasing me to make room for her."

I picked up the papers.

"Here is my answer," I said.

I tore the document in half. Then in half again. I threw the confetti at his face.

Harrison froze. His eyes went black. His wolf was surfacing, insulted beyond measure.

"You ungrateful-"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My hidden emergency comms-a tiny device Dustin had implanted in my molar years ago-vibrated against my jawbone.

Ava, Dustin's voice echoed directly in my inner ear via bone conduction. The military transport is en route. But I'm picking up a massive energy spike at Dad's old lab. The defense array is failing. If it breaks, the Rogues will overrun the border before we can get you. You need to fix it. Now.

I looked at Harrison, who was trembling with rage.

"I want a lawyer," I said calmly. "Or I want a trial by combat."

Harrison laughed, a cruel, barking sound. "You? Combat? You can't even shift."

"Try me," I whispered.

Ava POV:

The standoff in the cell didn't last long. Harrison didn't give me a lawyer, and he certainly didn't give me combat.

Instead, he gave me a needle.

Two Enforcers held me down while the Pack doctor-a man who smelled of antiseptic and fear-jammed a syringe into my neck.

"It's a sedative," Harrison said, standing outside the bars, watching me slump to the floor. "You're unstable, Ava. You're a danger to yourself and the Pack. I'm sending you to the Northern Asylum. They specialize in... difficult Omegas."

"Harrison..." My tongue felt thick. The world was tilting. "She... killed... Mom..."

"Enough lies!" Harrison roared, slamming his hand against the bars. "Sleep."

Darkness swallowed me.

I woke up to the smell of salt and gasoline. The rhythmic thrum of an engine vibrated through the metal floor beneath my cheek.

I opened my eyes. I was on a boat. Not the luxury yacht from before, but a rusted fishing trawler.

I was alone in the cargo hold. My hands were zip-tied to a pipe.

I tried to focus. The drug was still heavy in my system, making my limbs feel like they belonged to someone else.

Breathe, I told myself. The White Wolf breathing technique. Purge the toxin.

My father had taught me. Inhale the light. Exhale the shadow.

I forced my lungs to expand. I visualized the sedative as a black sludge in my veins and pushed it out with every breath. Slowly, the fog in my brain began to lift.

The engine noise changed. It sputtered, then cut out completely.

Silence.

Then, heavy footsteps on the deck above.

"Is it done?" A voice asked. It sounded like one of the Enforcers.

"Timer is set. Ten minutes," another voice replied. "Boss said to make it look like a Rogue engine failure."

"Shame about the girl. She was pretty."

"Boss's orders. She knows too much."

A splash. Then the roar of a speedboat engine fading into the distance.

They left me.

Harrison didn't send me to an asylum. He sent me to die.

Panic flared, hot and bright. I yanked at the zip ties. Plastic dug into my wrists, but it held.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I could hear it. A bomb.

I looked around frantically. The hold was filled with old nets and barrels that smelled of diesel. Highly flammable.

"Dustin!" I tried to project my voice, but the bone-conduction link was one-way unless I had the transmitter, which they had likely taken.

I closed my eyes and reached for the only thing I had left. The ancient power in my blood.

Shift, I commanded my body. Damn you, shift!

My bones ached. My skin burned. But the wolf wouldn't come. The seal was too strong.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over the grate above me.

"Clear the deck! Breach team, go!"

The voice was deep, authoritative, and unfamiliar.

The grate was ripped off its hinges with a screech of metal. A figure dropped down.

He was massive. Clad in black tactical gear, his face covered by a mask, but his eyes...

They were a piercing, electric blue.

He moved with a speed that wasn't human. He saw me, saw the bomb strapped to the fuel tank, and saw the timer.

00:45.

"Civilian located," he barked into his headset. "Rig is hot. We have to move. Now!"

He pulled a knife-not silver, but black steel-and sliced through my zip ties in one motion.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

"I... drug..." I stumbled.

He didn't wait. He scooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

He leaped.

He cleared the height of the cargo hold in a single bound, landing on the deck.

"Jump!" he roared to his team.

We hit the water just as the world turned white.

The shockwave slammed into us underwater, a giant hammer crushing my ribs. The heat seared the surface above us.

I tumbled through the dark, cold ocean, the air knocked from my lungs.

Strong arms tightened around me. The soldier. He was holding me, shielding me with his own body from the debris raining down.

We surfaced, gasping.

In the distance, the trawler was a fireball, sending a pillar of black smoke into the sky.

On the shore, far away, I saw a black SUV. A figure stood by it. Even from this distance, I knew the silhouette.

Harrison.

He was watching the fire.

I felt a sharp, agonizing snap in my chest. It felt like a guitar string being pulled until it broke.

The Mate Bond.

It didn't break because I died. It broke because in that moment, seeing him watch me burn, my soul finally, truly rejected him.

"He thinks you're dead," the soldier whispered, treading water beside me.

I looked at the burning ship, then at the man who saved me.

"Good," I said. "Let him mourn."