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.

Charlotte POV:

The shack was a rotting pile of wood held together by moss and spite.

The roof leaked directly over the mattress. The wind whistled through cracks in the walls. It smelled of mildew and abandonment. This was where the Alpha put the woman who was supposed to be his fated mate.

I spent the next two days shivering. The dampness seeped into my broken bones, making them ache with a deep, throbbing rhythm.

I was outside, trying to patch the roof with a rusted sheet of metal I found, when I heard the crunch of gravel.

"Nice place," a voice sneered. "Really suits your aesthetic."

Kalia.

She was wearing a brand new trench coat-one of the designs she stole from me. She held a lit cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other.

I gripped the jagged metal sheet. "Get off my property, Kalia."

"Your property?" She laughed, stepping closer. "Everything here belongs to Bryant. Which means it belongs to me. And honestly, this eyesore is ruining my view from the mansion."

She flicked the lighter open. The flame danced in the wind.

"I think a little bonfire would improve the landscape," she said, eyeing the dry, rotting wood of the porch.

"You wouldn't," I said, stepping between her and the house. "Bryant wouldn't allow arson."

"Bryant does what I tell him," she hissed. "And besides, who's going to miss a rat like you?"

She lunged, aiming the lighter at a pile of old newspapers on the porch.

I didn't panic this time. I knew the terrain.

I sidestepped, my bad leg screaming in protest, but I swung the metal sheet. I didn't aim for her-I aimed for the ground. I slammed it into the mud, creating a slick ramp.

Kalia, expecting me to cower, lost her footing on the wet metal.

She shrieked, arms flailing, and slid past me. The shack was built on a steep incline overlooking a dry, rocky ravine. She tumbled over the edge.

It wasn't a lethal drop, but it was messy. She landed in a patch of thorn bushes and mud, screaming like a banshee.

"My coat! My face!"

I stood at the edge, looking down. "Watch your step, Kalia."

Then, the roar of an engine cut the air. Bryant's SUV skidded to a halt.

He jumped out, seeing me standing over the ravine with a jagged piece of metal in my hand, and Kalia screaming below.

"What did you do?!" he roared.

He didn't ask. He didn't look at the lighter still clutched in Kalia's hand. He just saw me as the aggressor.

He shoved me aside, hard enough that I hit the wall of the shack. Then he scrambled down the slope to help Kalia.

He hauled her up. She was scratched, muddy, and furious.

"She tried to kill me!" Kalia wailed, pointing at me. "She set a trap! She tried to push me onto the rocks!"

Bryant turned to me, his eyes glowing red.

"You represent a threat to the Pack," he growled. "I should kill you right now."

I stood up, dusting off my hands. "Do it then. Or are you afraid of what the Council will say if you murder an unarmed girl?"

He hesitated. The politics stopped him. Not mercy.

"Get in the car, Kalia," he muttered.

He looked at me one last time. "You're lucky I have a reputation to maintain. Stay in your hole, rat."

They drove off, leaving me alone in the mud.

But I wasn't alone.

A figure stepped out from the dense treeline. A man in tactical gear.

"Miss Glover," he said, speaking into a headset. "Threat neutralized. The Alpha... he chose the wrong side again."

I heard a voice crackle in his ear, loud enough for me to hear.

"Let him dig his grave," Jaden's voice said. "I'm bringing the shovel."