Seraphina POV:

The night of the Gala was apocalyptic. Storm off the Atlantic. Rain like bullets.

Perfect.

I was in the kitchen, dressed as a maid. Invisible.

I heard Dante in the library with William, his Beta.

"She's acting strange, Dante. Too quiet. And that collar... her neck is rotting."

"She's fine," Dante dismissed, though his voice was tight. "Just sulking."

"Is she?" William asked. "Or is she broken? Dante, she's your-"

"Don't say it!" Dante roared. "She is a weak, human child! If I claim her, the Elders will tear her apart! I am doing this to protect her!"

"You're protecting her to death," William said.

I slipped out to the terrace.

Isabella was holding court in a blood-red dress. She saw me and smirked.

She walked over, feigned a stumble, and dumped her wine on me.

"Oops," she laughed. "Look at you. Cleaning up messes. It suits you."

She shoved me. Hard.

I slipped on the wet stone and fell backward, into the mud and rain.

Dante came rushing out.

"What happened?"

"She pushed me!" Isabella cried. "She tried to attack me!"

Dante looked at me, shivering in the mud, the collar glistening. He knew she was lying.

But he was the Alpha. He couldn't side with the help against the Luna.

"Get up," he barked. "Get out of my sight."

He took off his jacket.

My heart did a stupid, hopeful thing.

He wrapped it around Isabella.

"Let's go inside, love."

They turned their backs.

I lay in the mud. Cold seeping into the marrow.

Bzzzz.

My burner phone.

Border open. Sector 4. Midnight.

11:00 PM.

I stood up.

A wave of heat hit me. Not the silver. Internal.

My blood boiled. Bones ground together. My vision sharpened, tracking individual raindrops.

My fingernails elongated into claws.

Not now.

But my wolf wasn't hiding anymore. She was waking up.

The fever spiked. I wasn't shivering from cold; I was shivering from power.

"Happy Birthday, Dante," I whispered.

I ran into the woods.

I didn't run like a human. I moved with impossible speed.

I was running toward the Rogues.

I wasn't Seraphina the orphan anymore. I was the storm.

The mud was slick, but I didn't slip.

I had rubbed the Wolfsbane paste on my wrists and ankles. It numbed my skin and made my wolf sluggish, but to the patrols, I smelled like wet moss.

I reached the perimeter fence. Twelve feet high, electrified.

I knew the weakness. Rabbits dug under the foundation near the drainage pipe.

I crawled through the muck. Concrete scraped my back.

I emerged on the other side.

Freedom.

A black sedan waited on the access road.

I sprinted. My legs burned with the fever of the shift.

A shadow detached from the trees.

A wolf.

Patrol guard. Massive brown beast, snarling, blocking my path.

He crouched. He recognized me. The Alpha's pet.

He opened his jaws to howl.

No.

I didn't cower.

I stopped. The fever spiked hotter than the silver.

"Move," I said.

It wasn't a scream. It was a vibration. I mimicked the pitch Dante used when he commanded the legions. I threw every ounce of my repressed rage into my aura.

A ripple of energy exploded outward.

The brown wolf froze. He whimpered. Instinct overrode duty. Confronted with a superior predator's frequency, he submitted.

He backed away, tail tucked, belly to the mud.

I didn't question it. I dove into the car.

"Go!"

We sped toward the highway.

We hit the territorial border.

Leaving a Pack isn't like crossing state lines. It's spiritual amputation.

Snap.

"Argh!" I gasped, clutching my chest.

The hook ripped out of my soul. The background hum of the Pack vanished.

Silence. Cold, lonely silence.

But then... oxygen.

For the first time in ten years, I could breathe.

Seraphina POV:

The flight was a blur of turbulence and fever dreams.

We landed in Toronto. The air was sharp, smelling of ice and ancient earth.

A convoy waited.

A man stepped out of the lead SUV. Older, silver in his dark hair, radiating power.

Marco Rossi. Alpha of the Blood Moon. My father.

I stepped off the plane. Legs shaking, Wolfsbane wearing off.

Marco stopped five feet away. He inhaled.

Biology doesn't lie.

"Seraphina," he whispered. Voice like gravel.

He reached out.

Then the wind shifted.

He froze. Nostrils flared. Eyes turned feral red.

He smelled the silver.

He looked at my neck. The collar had slipped, revealing the raw, oozing ring.

"WHO DID THIS?"

The roar shook the jet's windows. Pure violence.

"Moretti," he snarled. "I will kill him. I will burn his city to ash!"

"Alpha," a calm voice cut in.

A younger man in a tweed coat stepped up. Glasses. Smelled of sage and antiseptic.

William Sterling. The Beta.

"She is hurt, Marco. Revenge later."

William looked at me. Not with pity, but with clinical concern.

"You're burning up. Silver poisoning fighting the first Shift. We need the safe house."

"I'm fine," I croaked.

"You are safe now, little wolf," Marco said, rage damping into fierce protectiveness. He wrapped his heavy coat around me. Tobacco and leather. Father.

I leaned into him.

Adrenaline crashed. The world tilted.

Black spots danced.

I felt strong arms catch me before I hit the concrete.

Dante POV:

The party was a disaster.

My wolf was pacing in my chest, scratching at the ribs.

I hadn't seen Seraphina for hours.

"Where is she?" I asked a servant.

"Haven't seen her since she... fell, Alpha."

Cold knot in the gut. I pushed past Isabella.

I took the stairs two at a time.

Her room.

"Seraphina!"

Silence.

I flipped the switch.

Empty.

Not just unoccupied. Scrubbed. Shelves bare. Closet empty.

The air smelled of bleach. She had erased herself.

"No," I whispered.

On the desk, a single sheet of sketch paper.

Charcoal drawing. A black wolf-me-and a white wolf on a cliff.

Bottom corner: Long live the King.

And on top of the paper... the collar.

Stained with blood and pus. Strips of skin stuck to the filigree.

The scent hit me. Not vanilla. Suffering. Burnt flesh. Infection.

I dropped the collar like it was radioactive.

She hadn't just run. She had clawed her way out.

Window open. Rain soaking the floor.

"ALARM!" I roared. The Command shattered the window glass.

"Lock down the estate! Find her!"

My wolf let out a sound of absolute desolation.

She wasn't hiding in the woods.

The bond was silent. She was gone.

Dante POV:

The War Room was chaos.

"She crossed north at 00:15," Security Chief reported. "Patrol guard in Sector 4... found cowering. Claims she Commanded him."

"Commanded?" Isabella scoffed. "Please. The girl couldn't command a toaster."

I turned on her.

I saw her clearly for the first time. Vanity. Cruelty.

I chose her for politics. I thought Seraphina was too fragile for this world.

I was the fool.

"Get out," I said.

"Excuse me?"

"Get out of my house. Engagement over."

"You can't be serious. Over a pet?"

"She was my Mate!"

The confession tore out of me. The room went dead silent.

"I rejected the bond to protect her from you vultures," I snarled. "And instead, I let you torture her."

I pointed at the door. "Leave, Isabella. Before I forget I don't kill females."

She fled.

I turned to the map. "Where?"

"Toronto. Private jet. Rossi Global."

"Rossi," I slammed my fist on the table. Wood splintered. "Marco Rossi."

My enemy.

"He kidnapped her," I reasoned. My brain couldn't accept she went willingly. "He knew she was my weakness."

"Prepare the jets. Mobilize the elite guard."

"Alpha," my Beta, William, stepped in. "Crossing into Rossi territory with a war party is a declaration of war."

"He has my Mate," I said, voice dead. "If he touches her, I will bring the apocalypse."

I shoved the bloody collar into my pocket.

I would get her back. And this time, I would chain her to me if I had to.

Seraphina POV:

Waking up felt like floating.

Soft sheets. Lavender.

I opened my eyes. High ceilings, warm beams.

"Easy," a voice said.

William, the Blood Moon Beta. He was mixing something in a mortar.

"Where am I?" I rasped. Throat raw.

"My home. Toronto. You've been asleep two days."

He dipped a cloth in green paste. "Need to change the dressing. Aloe, comfrey, and a little magic."

I flinched, pulling my knees up. Covering my neck.

"Don't," I whispered.

I expected anger. Force. Stop being weak.

William stopped.

"I won't touch you without permission, Seraphina."

"But... you're a Beta."

"Authority isn't force," he said. "I am a Healer. I fix what is broken, I don't break it further."

He waited. Calm. Patient.

He was giving me control.

I lowered my hands. Tilted my chin.

"Okay."

He applied the paste. Cool relief.

"Silver toxicity was high," he said. "But your wolf... she is strong. She fought it off."

"Dante said I was weak."

"Dante Moretti is a fool," William said, voice sharpening. "He looked at a diamond and saw a rock because he didn't know how to cut it."

He finished.

"Rest. Your father is pacing a hole in the floor downstairs."

He turned to leave.

"William?"

He looked back.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Seraphina."

I lay back. For the first time, a high-ranking male touched me with kindness.

I wasn't a prisoner.

Maybe I could be a Queen.