Charlotte POV:
The photo vibrated on my new phone. It was a selfie of Kalia, wrapped in a white fur coat, sitting on Bryant's lap. The caption read: Alpha only belongs to the strong.
I deleted it.
I had been discharged from the hospital with a limp and a cane. My leg was healing, but slowly. The bone knit crookedly because they hadn't set it right.
I was packing my bag in the penthouse, preparing to leave for good, when the front door exploded inward.
"Where is she?" Bryant roared.
He stormed into the bedroom. He didn't look at my cane. He grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall.
"What did you do with her?"
I gasped for air. "Who?"
"Kalia! She's gone! She sent a distress signal from your location!"
I laughed. A dry, rasping sound. "I've been in the hospital, you idiot. Or here. I can barely walk. How could I kidnap your mistress?"
"Liar!" he screamed. "You have resources. That company of yours... that little hobby."
He dragged me. Again. Always dragging me like a sack of grain.
He pulled me down to the basement of the estate. Past the wine cellar. Into the old holding cells used for rogue interrogations during the war.
He threw me into a cell.
The moment my skin touched the bars, I hissed. Smoke rose from my arm.
Silver.
The bars were coated in silver dust. For a werewolf, silver is poison. It burns the skin and poisons the blood, halting all healing and causing excruciating pain.
"Bryant!" I screamed. "It's silver! It burns!"
Even wolfless wolves have the allergy. It's biological.
"Tell me where she is!" he yelled, slamming the gate shut.
"I don't know!"
He reached for a dial on the wall. The thermostat. This deep underground, it was naturally freezing. He cranked the AC down to maximum.
"Think about it in the cold, Charlotte. Maybe when you're freezing to death, you'll remember."
He turned off the lights and left.
I curled into a ball in the center of the cell, trying to stay away from the silver-coated walls. The cold seeped into my bones. My broken leg throbbed with a dull, aching rhythm.
Time lost its meaning. Was it hours? Days?
The cold made me hallucinate. I saw my mother, who had died when I was young. She looked sad.
Then, the darkness shifted. A figure appeared. Not a ghost. A woman made of moonlight.
Child, she whispered. Her voice sounded like wind through trees. To be reborn, you must first be destroyed.
I'm already destroyed, I thought.
Not yet. The fire is coming. Endure.
The vision faded as the heavy iron door creaked open.
Light flooded in, blinding me.
Bryant stood there. And beside him, Kalia.
She was wearing the fur coat from the photo. Her skin was glowing. She held a shopping bag.
"Oh, honey," she cooed, looking at Bryant. "I told you, I was just at the spa. My phone died. I didn't mean to worry you."
She looked at me, shivering on the floor, my lips blue. "Oh my god. Is she... is she in the silver cell?"
She feigned shock, covering her mouth with a manicured hand.
Bryant let out a breath of relief, hugging Kalia. "Thank the Goddess. I thought... I thought she had hurt you."
He looked at me. There was no apology in his eyes. Just a flicker of annoyance that he had overreacted.
"Let her out," he told the guard behind him.
He didn't help me up. He didn't offer a coat. He just walked away with his arm around Kalia's waist.
"You poor thing," I heard him say to her. "You must be exhausted from your massage."
I lay there for a moment, unable to move. The guard, a young warrior who looked guilty, offered me a hand.
I slapped it away.
I used the wall to pull myself up, hissing as the silver dust burned my fingertips.
I limped out of the cell.
I went straight to the penthouse. Bryant was there, sitting on the sofa, holding my old phone-the one they had confiscated.
"Your birthday party is next week," he said, not looking up. "The pack elders are insisting we celebrate. It's the annual Pack Gathering too."
I snatched the phone from his hand. Adrenaline gave me strength.
"I will be there," I said, my voice sounding like gravel.
"Good," he said. "Try to look less... like a corpse."
I walked to the door. I stopped and looked back at him.
"You locked me in a silver cage for a woman who was getting a facial."
Bryant shrugged. "I did what I had to do to protect my pack. Alphas don't take chances."
I nodded slowly. "I understand."
I understood perfectly. He wasn't an Alpha. He was a fool. And fools shouldn't wear crowns.
I dialed Jaden's number as soon as I was in the elevator.
"I'm sending you an invite to the Gala," I said.
Jaden's voice was dark. "I'll be there."
"And bring your lawyers," I added. "I'm taking back my company. And my life."
Charlotte POV:
The morning after the cellar incident, Bryant tried to buy my forgiveness.
He slid a check across the breakfast table. It was for ten thousand dollars.
"For the inconvenience," he muttered, sipping his coffee. "Buy yourself a new dress. Or fix your teeth. Whatever."
I looked at the check. It was drawn from the joint account-money that was mostly my inheritance from the Glover estate. He was paying me off with my own money.
I picked up the check. Slowly, deliberately, I tore it down the middle. Then again. And again. I let the confetti pieces fall into his perfectly poached eggs.
"I don't want your money, Bryant."
He slammed his mug down. "Then what do you want? An apology? Alphas don't apologize."
"I want you to attend my birthday gala next week. As my fiancé."
He scoffed. "Obviously. It's a pack requirement."
"And," I continued, leaning in, "I want you to wear the suit I designed. The prototype."
Bryant raised an eyebrow. "That stretchy garbage you make? Fine. If it shuts you up."
I smiled. It didn't reach my eyes.
For the next three days, I buried myself in work. I stayed at the AURA headquarters, sleeping on the couch in my office. My staff-mostly humans and a few lower-tier wolves who didn't know my identity-worked tirelessly.
We were launching the "Eclipse" line. Smart-fabric that shifted molecular structure when exposed to rapid expansion. No more naked walks home after a shift. No more shredded designer suits.
The launch was a digital runway show, streamed directly to the werewolf elite.
It was a massive success. Orders flooded in from packs in Europe, Asia, and the West Coast. The "Omega's Miracle," the blogs called it.
I felt a flicker of pride. This was mine.
Then, the notification pinged.
Breaking News: Kalia Baron exposes massive fraud at AURA.
My blood ran cold.
I opened the link. It was a livestream. Kalia was sitting in a studio, looking tearful. She held up a sketchbook. My sketchbook. The one that had gone missing weeks ago.
"These are my designs," she sobbed. "Charlotte stole them. She used her access to the house to steal my art. She can't even shift... how could she understand the mechanics of a transformation suit?"
It was a compelling argument to the ignorant masses.
Then, the screen split. Bryant appeared via video link.
"I confirm this," Bryant said, looking solemn. "Kalia has been working on these sketches for months. Charlotte Glover is a troubled woman with a history of jealousy. We are saddened that she would stoop this low."
The comments section exploded.
Thief!
Wolfless scum stealing from a future Luna!
Boycott AURA!
Within an hour, the cancellations started. Distributors pulled out. My email inbox filled with hate mail and death threats.
I sat in my office, the glow of the monitors illuminating my pale face.
They didn't just want to hurt me. They wanted to erase me. They wanted to take the one thing I had built with my own hands and give it to the woman who tortured me.
My phone rang. It was the building security.
"Miss Glover, there's a mob outside. They're throwing stones. You need to leave."
I stood up. I grabbed my cane.
I didn't go out the back. I went down to the garage. I got into my car.
I drove straight to the Barnes Tower.
I stormed past the receptionist. I took the elevator to the top floor.
When I kicked open the doors to Bryant's office, the scene was almost comical. Kalia was sitting on his desk, popping a bottle of champagne. Bryant was laughing.
They stopped when they saw me.
"You," I said, pointing my cane at Kalia. "You held the pencil wrong in the video."
Kalia blinked. "What?"
"In your fake interview. You held the charcoal stick like a pen. No designer does that. You smudge the lines."
Kalia jumped off the desk. "Who cares? The world believes me. The Alpha confirmed it."
I looked at Bryant. "You know she can't draw a stick figure. You know I spent nights working on those formulas."
Bryant sighed, looking bored. "It's better for the Pack's image, Charlotte. A Luna who is a genius inventor? That sells. A wolfless cripple running a company? That's embarrassing. We're rebranding AURA under Kalia's name tomorrow."
He said it so casually. As if he was discussing the weather.
"You're stealing my company," I said.
"We're acquiring it," he corrected. "As your Alpha, I own your assets. Since you are unfit to manage them."
He pressed a button on his desk. "Security, escort Miss Glover out. And ban her from the building."
Two burly guards entered. They grabbed my arms.
"Get your hands off me!" I shouted.
Bryant stood up. He walked over to me, leaning down so his face was inches from mine.
"Go home, Charlotte. Wait for the wedding. Be the silent, obedient wife I need. Or..."
"Or what?" I challenged.
"Or I will declare you a Rogue. I will strip you of the Glover name, kick you out of the territory, and let the wild wolves hunt you down."
It was a death sentence. A Rogue without a wolf form wouldn't survive a night.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. The handsome face I once adored now looked like a mask of rotting meat.
"I'll see you at the Gala, Bryant," I whispered.
He smirked. "Wear something nice."
I let the guards drag me out.
As the elevator doors closed, I didn't cry. I pulled out my phone.
I dialed Jaden.
"Buy it," I said.
"What?" Jaden asked.
"The Barnes debt. The mortgages. The loans. Everything. Buy it all."
"Consider it done, my Queen."
I hung up.
They wanted a show? I would give them a show. And when the curtain fell, there would be nothing left of the Barnes Pack but ash.
Charlotte POV:
The eviction notice was taped to the door of the penthouse when I returned.
By Order of the Alpha: Vacate immediately.
I didn't care about the furniture. I didn't care about the jewels. I just wanted my mother's things. She had been a true Luna, kind and strong, before the sickness took her. Her sketchbooks were the only reason I became a designer.
I rushed inside.
The living room was a wreck. Clothes were strewn everywhere. And there, by the fireplace, stood Kalia.
She was holding a stack of old, leather-bound notebooks. My mother's journals. Her original designs.
"What are you doing?" I screamed, dropping my cane and lunging forward.
Kalia turned, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "Oh, these? They're trash. Just like you. We need space for my new wardrobe."
She tossed them into the fire.
"No!"
I threw myself at the fireplace, reaching into the flames. I didn't feel the heat. I grabbed the books, patting out the fire with my bare hands. The edges were charred, the leather smoking.
Ruined. Years of history, turned to ash in seconds.
I looked up at her. She was laughing.
"You should have seen your face," she giggled.
Something snapped inside me. It wasn't a thought. It was an instinct, primal and raw.
I stood up. I stepped forward. And I swung my hand.
My palm connected with Kalia's cheek with a sound like a gunshot.
It wasn't a human slap. It carried a weight, a force that shouldn't have been possible for a wolfless girl. Kalia flew backward, crashing into the coffee table. Glass shattered.
She lay there for a second, stunned. Then, she touched her cheek. A trickle of blood ran down her chin.
"You... you hit me!" she shrieked.
The door burst open. Bryant rushed in, flanked by two enforcers. He saw Kalia on the floor, bleeding among the glass shards.
"Charlotte!" he roared.
He didn't ask what happened. He didn't look at the burnt journals in my hands. He just saw his mistress hurt.
"Hold her!" he commanded the guards.
The warriors grabbed me. One twisted my arm behind my back, forcing me to my knees. The pain in my healing leg was blinding, but I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.
Bryant helped Kalia up. He checked her face, his eyes filled with tender concern.
"Are you okay, baby?"
She sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at me. "She's crazy, Bryant! She tried to kill me! Look at my face!"
Bryant turned to me. His face was a mask of cold fury.
"You dare touch my Luna?"
"She burned my mother's journals!" I yelled, tears finally streaming down my face.
He didn't care.
"She is your superior," he spat. "And you need to learn your place."
He looked at Kalia. "Hit her back."
Kalia's eyes lit up. She wiped the blood from her lip and walked over to me. I was defenseless, held down by two grown men.
She smiled. It was the ugliest thing I had ever seen.
She slapped me.
Her hand was heavy, reinforced by her wolf strength. My head snapped to the side. The taste of copper filled my mouth.
"Again," Bryant ordered.
She hit me again. And again.
My ear rang. My vision blurred. Blood dripped from my nose onto the expensive carpet.
"That's enough," Bryant said finally. Not out of mercy, but because he was bored.
He looked down at me. "Get your things and get out. You're moving to the old caretaker's shack on the edge of the territory. If I see you near the main house again, I'll have the guards break your other leg."
They released me. I collapsed onto the floor.
I watched them leave. Kalia was clinging to his arm, whining about her bruised cheek. Bryant was soothing her, promising her ice and diamonds.
I wiped the blood from my mouth.
I packed the charred remains of my mother's books. I took nothing else.
As I limped out into the rain, heading toward the slums of the pack lands, I didn't feel pain anymore.
I felt only the cold, hard resolve of a wolf waiting for the kill.