Adella POV

The heavy door of the armored SUV clicked shut, sealing away the freezing rain and the remnants of my shattered life. I sank into the plush leather seats, the scent of winter pine and Silas’s warrior aura grounding me. It was a moving fortress, safe and entirely disconnected from the Blackwood Pack territory I was leaving behind.

Before Silas could even start the engine, a booming, authoritative voice echoed in my head.

*“Come home, child. This humiliation ends now.”*

It was my grandfather, Alpha Baron Gray of the Silvermoon Pack. His mind-link was so powerful it made my temples throb.

I closed my eyes, fortifying my mental walls. *“No, Grandfather. I won’t return as a broken, rejected Omega. I won't let Kian think he broke me.”*

*“You are a White Wolf, the sole heir to my legacy!”* Baron growled through the link, his protective fury bleeding into my mind. *“You have nothing to prove to that arrogant pup.”*

*“I have everything to prove to myself,”* I countered fiercely. *“Give me one year. Let me stay in his city.”*

A heavy silence stretched across the mental bond. When Baron finally spoke, his tone was pure, uncompromising Alpha. *“Fine. But we do this my way. You will take over all Silvermoon operations in that city. You have one year to increase our wealth and influence there by thirty percent—three billion dollars. If you fail, you abandon this revenge game, come home, and accept the mate I’ve chosen for you: Evander Frost.”*

My breath hitched. Evander was the legendary Healer of the Stonecreek Pack. A powerful, respectable man, but marrying him would mean trading one gilded cage for another.

*“Deal,”* I replied, severing the link before he could sense my hesitation.

I opened my eyes. The sorrow that had weighed me down for six years evaporated, replaced by a cold, sharp clarity. I looked at the driver's seat.

"Silas," I said, my voice carrying a new, unfamiliar authority. "Tap into the Pack's emergency reserves. Before sunrise, I want a rock-solid, exclusive trade alliance established with Asia's Woodlands Pack. Whatever Kian cut off, we compensate tenfold. Make sure the alliance announcement is sitting on Kian Blackwood’s desk first thing tomorrow morning."

Silas met my gaze in the rearview mirror, a fierce, proud smile spreading across his face. "Consider it done, my Alpha."

Later that night, the heavy bass of a high-end, neutral-territory club vibrated through the floorboards. Asia had dragged me out, insisting we celebrate my "liberation."

For the first time in six years, I hadn't taken the bitter wolfsbane herbs Alvah had prescribed to mask my true nature. I was done hiding.

My true scent—the intoxicating, pure aroma of a White Wolf—bloomed into the stifling air. It was a potent mix of night-blooming tuberose, rich vanilla, and crisp moonlight, a scent designed by the Moon Goddess to bring any male wolf to his knees. I had traded my baggy, drab clothes for a backless emerald silk dress that clung to my curves, letting the world see exactly who I was.

I was laughing, swaying on the crowded dance floor with Asia. A stranger had stepped close, his hand lightly resting on my waist as we moved to the rhythm, but I barely noticed him. I was too busy drowning in the euphoric feeling of my own freedom.

Then, the air in the club suddenly shifted.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I glanced toward the VIP entrance and froze.

Kian was walking in, Ember clinging tightly to his arm. But he wasn't looking at her. He had stopped dead in his tracks, his tall frame rigid. Even from across the dimly lit room, I saw his storm-gray eyes dilate until they were almost entirely black. His nostrils flared, taking in the overwhelming, unmasked scent I was finally unleashing.

The mate-bond, dormant and suffocated by my herbs for six years, slammed into him with the force of a freight train. I could practically feel his inner wolf roaring in my direction, tearing through the club's atmosphere with violent possessiveness.

His gaze locked onto mine, dropping to the stranger's hand on my waist, and the entire world around us ceased to exist.

Kian POV

My senses were entirely hijacked. The heavy bass of the club faded into a dull hum, drowned out by an intoxicating, irresistible scent—night-blooming tuberose, rich vanilla, and crisp moonlight.

It hit me with the force of a physical blow. My inner wolf clawed frantically at the edges of my mind, roaring with a violent, primal desperation I had never felt before. *“Mate! Find her! Mine!”*

I followed that blood-boiling aroma through the suffocating crowd, my eyes scanning the strobe-lit dance floor until they locked onto her.

Adella.

But this wasn't the drab, scentless shadow of a woman who had kept her head bowed in my house for six years. She was glowing in a backless emerald silk dress that clung to every curve, radiating an aura that was driving me absolutely insane. And some death-wish-having stranger had his hand resting casually on her waist, swaying with her to the music.

A dark, primitive rage consumed me. I didn't think; I just moved. I strode across the floor, grabbed her bare arm roughly, and yanked her out of the man's embrace.

The second my skin made contact with hers, a violent, electric jolt surged through my entire body. It was a blinding spark of pure pleasure and possession that nearly buckled my knees.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I demanded, a possessive, guttural growl tearing from my throat that barely sounded like my own voice.

Adella didn't cower. Her icy blue eyes, usually so submissive, blazed with pure fury. She yanked her arm, trying to shake off my grip, her sudden strength catching me off guard.

I needed to regain control. I needed to force her back into the weak Omega box I understood. "Have you no shame?" I snarled, my Alpha ego fighting the chaotic satisfaction of my wolf. "Fraternizing with a stranger in public? Are you trying to ruin the Blackwood Pack's reputation?"

She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Shame? You have no right to speak to me about that word, Kian. Who was shamelessly parading his mistress around days ago, even threatening me with rejection? Keep your hypocritical preaching to yourself."

Her sharp retort left me momentarily speechless. My wolf swelled with pride at her fire, but my pride as an Alpha was deeply offended by her public defiance.

Before I could formulate a response, Ember appeared, pressing her body against my side. "Adella?" she asked, her voice dripping with sweet, manufactured surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Adella didn't even spare her a glance. She kept her piercing gaze on me. "Keep your Rogue mistress in check, Kian. Don't let her bother me."

The word *Rogue* hung in the air like a physical slap. The atmosphere around us froze. Ember’s face drained of all color, her eyes widening in humiliation.

Tears immediately welled in Ember's eyes. She looked up at me, her voice trembling. "Kian, don't blame her. She must be terrified. She knows she'll have nothing once you reject her, so she's hysterical, desperately looking for the next Alpha to provide for her."

Her words acted like a key, unlocking the chaotic mess in my head. Yes. That made sense. That was the Adella I knew—weak, dependent, desperate for money. I ruthlessly shoved down the agonizing whines of my inner wolf and chose the logic I was comfortable with.

I looked at Adella coldly. "I won't tolerate you dragging my name through the mud."

A profound, heavy disappointment washed over Adella's features. She looked at me as if I were the most pathetic creature she had ever seen, then shifted her gaze to Ember.

"Slut," Adella spat.

My temper snapped. I grabbed her arm again, towering over her with absolute arrogance. "Apologize to me and Ember. Right now. I'll give you fifty million."

I expected her to break. I expected her to hesitate at the mention of the money.

She didn't. She just smirked, stepping closer until her intoxicating scent completely suffocated me. She looked dead into my eyes, her voice terrifyingly calm.

"Keep your blood money, Kian. I've already submitted the Rejection application."

The world stopped spinning.

*Rejection?* Submitted by her? An Omega—a woman I thought was a wolfless nobody—initiating a rejection against me, an Alpha? It defied every rule of our world.

Before my paralyzed brain could process the magnitude of what she had just said, she ripped her arm from my loosened grip. She turned her back on me and walked out of the club without a single ounce of hesitation, leaving me standing frozen in the flashing lights, drowning in her lethal scent and the shattering reality of her words.

My wolf was tearing at the confines of my mind, a feral howl shredding my sanity. “Mate! Chase her!”

I lunged toward the fading scent of tuberose and moonlight, but a hand clamped onto my bicep. "Kian, ignore that madwoman," Ember purred.

Her poppy scent suddenly reeked like rotting syrup. My wolf snarled, repulsed by any touch when our true mate fled. I ripped my arm free. "Don't. Touch. Me." The icy growl turned her face chalk-white.

The street was empty when I burst outside, neon bleeding into shadows. Rage ignited in my chest—not just at her escape, but at her defiance. She needed to bleed for this.

I activated the mind-link, my Alpha Command crackling like lightning: “Liam! Status report on the Woodlands sanctions. I want Asia Watkins’ pack collapsing NOW.”

The silence lasted three heartbeats. “Alpha…” Liam’s voice tightened. “The embargo crushed them within 48 hours as ordered. But thirty minutes ago… Silvermoon Pack absorbed all their trade routes. They injected ten times our capital.”

Silvermoon. The name stabbed my spine. Adella hadn’t just escaped—she’d gutted my victory. How? The question burned. A wolfless pawn couldn’t move Silvermoon’s pieces—

My thoughts shattered as polished metal glinted down the block.

The armored SUV’s door yawned open. Adella stood framed in its steel jaws, her spine rigid as a blade. The warrior beside her dropped to one knee. Moonlight caught the obsidian card he offered—etched with a wolf crowned in stars. The Gray Dynasty crest.

Ember’s poison hissed in my skull: …spreading her legs for the next Alpha…

Reality warped. The kneeling warrior wasn’t a lover. He was a subject.

And the Gray bloodline ruled Silvermoon.

My claws tore through my palms as I mind-linked my tracker:

“Larsen. Surveil Adella Gray. Document every ally, every whisper. I want proof of how deep Silvermoon’s corruption runs—and her role in it.”

The SUV devoured the night. My teeth ground bone-deep.

She’d played me. Used her name like a hidden blade.

At the Rejection Ceremony, I’d expose that blade—and break it.