Dimitri POV

The mourning ceremony was a blur of black veils and hollow condolences, but my mind was miles away, locked in the cold silence of my private study.

The revelation of the silver poisoning had planted a seed of madness in my brain. Murder. My father had been murdered, and somehow, my memory loss was the key.

I poured a glass of whiskey but didn't drink it. Instead, I stared into the amber liquid, forcing my mind back to the night before I woke up in that bed with the girl. The fog in my head was thick, unnatural.

Think, Dimitri.

A flash of memory pierced through. My father's private quarters. The fire crackling. He had handed me a crystal goblet.

"Drink, my son," Grafton had said, his voice raspy but firm. "It is holy water from the Moon Goddess's spring. To strengthen the bloodline. To prepare you."

His eyes... they hadn't been proud. They had been apologetic.

I slammed the whiskey glass down, shattering it. The shards bit into my palm, but I didn't feel it. He had drugged me. My own father had drugged me to ensure I would... what? Sleep with a wolfless Omega?

Why? Ragnar, my inner Lycan, paced restlessly in the back of my mind. Pack. Protection. Mate.

"Lies," I hissed.

I needed proof.

I waited until the moon was high and the Pack House was silent with grief. The door to my father's study was sealed with the Elders' yellow tape, forbidden to everyone until the official reading of the will.

I didn't care. I ripped the tape and kicked the door open.

The room smelled like him—aged oak, tobacco, and the underlying metallic tang of the sickness that took him. I tore through his desk, tossing papers aside, until my fingers brushed against a uneven seam in the wood of the bottom drawer. A hidden compartment.

I pried it open with my claws. Inside lay a single scroll made of ancient beast skin, pulsing with a faint, silver light.

I unrolled it, and the air left my lungs.

Sacred Bonding Contract.

The words seemed to burn into my retinas. It was a binding magical agreement, detailing the union of Dimitri Barrett and Anais Moreno. And there, at the bottom, was the jagged, unmistakable signature of Alpha Grafton Barrett, witnessed by the High Elder.

"You planned this," I whispered to the empty room, my voice trembling with a rage so cold it felt like ice. "You sold me. You sold your own son to a wolfless nobody."

I looked at the moonstone ring on my finger—the one I couldn't take off. It wasn't an accident. It was a shackle.

A growl ripped from my throat. I grabbed the parchment, intending to shred it, to burn it, to reject this insanity right here and now.

"I, Dimitri Barrett, reject—"

The words died in my throat. The scroll flared with blinding white light, burning my fingertips. Runes of the Moon Goddess surfaced on the skin, glowing with absolute power.

Protected. The magic whispered in my mind. Irrevocable for one full cycle of the seasons.

I threw the scroll across the room. It hit the wall and rolled shut, mocking me. I couldn't reject her. Not yet.

If I couldn't break the bond, I would break the person who helped tie the knot.

"Bring the Omega girl to the cells. Now." I projected the order through the Mind-Link, my voice booming like thunder in the heads of my warriors.

The dungeons were cold, smelling of rust and old misery.

Anais was strapped to a wooden chair in the center of the interrogation cell. She looked small, pathetic in the harsh light of the torches. Her grey dress was torn, and she was shivering violently.

When I stepped in, the air pressure in the room dropped. My Lycan aura flooded the space, heavy and suffocating.

"D-Dimitri?" she squeaked, her eyes wide with terror.

Ragnar let out a low whine. Mate. Hurt. No.

I shoved the beast down. "That is Alpha to you."

I stalked forward, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at me. Her skin was soft, and a spark of electricity—that damned mate bond—zapped my fingers. I ignored it, leaning in until our noses almost touched.

"Who are you working for?" I snarled, letting the Alpha's Command lace my voice. It wasn't a question; it was a compulsion.

Anais gasped, her pupils dilating as the Command hit her. She tried to pull away, tears spilling over her cheeks. "No one! I don't know what you're talking about!"

"My father is dead," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "He drugged me. He bound me to you with a contract that predates our meeting. You expect me to believe a wolfless Omega just happened to be the beneficiary of the Alpha's greatest betrayal?"

"I don't know!" she screamed, sobbing. "I don't remember anything! I was with my friends... we went to the bar... that's all!"

"What friends?" I tightened my grip on her jaw.

"Ayesha... and Michael," she choked out. "Please... you're hurting me."

Ragnar roared in my head, clawing at my skull. Stop! She is ours!

I released her as if she were burning me. She slumped back against the chair, weeping brokenly.

She was either the greatest actress I had ever seen, or she was truly a pawn. But pawns could still be used to topple kings.

I turned my back on her, walking toward the iron door.

"Rot here until your memory returns," I threw over my shoulder.

"Dimitri, please!" she wailed.

I slammed the heavy door, cutting off her voice, but not her scent. It clung to me, mint and fear, maddeningly addictive.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my Gamma.

"Find Ayesha and Michael," I ordered, staring at the stone wall. "Bring them to me. If she won't talk, maybe her friends will bleed the truth for her."

Anais POV

Time lost all meaning in the darkness. The cell smelled of damp stone and despair, a heavy, suffocating scent that clung to my skin. I curled tighter into the corner, my knees pulled to my chest, shivering not just from the cold, but from the terrifying uncertainty.

The heavy iron door groaned open, slicing through the silence.

Dimitri filled the doorway. Even in the dim torchlight, his presence was overwhelming—a force of nature that sucked the air out of the room. The scent of blizzard and cedar flooded the small space, instantly overpowering the smell of rot. It was a scent that made my heart hammer against my ribs, a confusing mix of terror and an instinctual pull I couldn't understand.

He stepped inside, the heavy door clanging shut behind him. His ice-blue eyes swept over me, cold and calculating.

"Stand up," he ordered. The Alpha's Command washed over me, compelling my trembling limbs to obey before my mind could even process the request.

I scrambled to my feet, pressing my back against the rough stone wall as he stalked closer. He stopped inches from me, his large frame boxing me in.

"Why do you still wear it?" His voice was a low growl, his gaze dropping to the moonstone ring on my finger.

"I... I can't take it off," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I've tried. It won't budge."

He reached out, his rough fingers brushing against my hand. The moment skin met skin, a jolt of electricity—The Physical Surge—zapped through me, hot and undeniable. I gasped, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened. He wasn't hurting me, but the intensity of his touch was terrifying.

He stared into my eyes, searching for something. For a lie? For a confession? I saw a flicker of something wild in his gaze, a flash of gold bleeding into the blue. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking as if he were fighting a war within himself.

"Get out," he snarled suddenly, releasing my hand as if it burned him.

I blinked, stunned. "W-What?"

"Leave. Before I change my mind and let you rot here." He turned his back on me, his shoulders tense. "Go!"

I didn't wait to be told twice. I scrambled past him, stumbling out of the cell and running toward the sliver of light at the end of the corridor, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

The fresh air of the courtyard hit me like a physical blow, but I didn't stop. I was barefoot, my feet scraping against the cobblestones, but pain was irrelevant. I just needed to get away.

"Hold it right there, rogue!"

A rough hand clamped around my upper arm, jerking me to a halt. I cried out as I was spun around to face two towering Pack Warriors.

"Look at this," the one holding me sneered, his grip bruising. "Trying to sneak out?"

"Please," I begged, struggling uselessly. "The Alpha... he let me go."

"Likely story," the warrior scoffed, tightening his grip until I whimpered.

A low, thunderous growl vibrated through the air, freezing the blood in my veins.

"Let. Her. Go."

The warriors went pale, dropping my arm instantly and bowing their heads. Dimitri strode toward us, his fury palpable. It wasn't the cold, calculated anger from the cell; this was raw, possessive rage.

He shoved the warrior aside with enough force to send the man stumbling. "If you ever touch her again," Dimitri hissed, his voice laced with a lethal promise, "you will lose that hand."

He turned to me. I flinched, expecting his wrath to turn my way, but he simply grabbed my wrist—the one the warrior had bruised. His thumb brushed over the red marks, and a strange warmth seeped from his skin into mine, soothing the ache.

"Get in the car," he ordered, pulling me toward a black armored SUV parked nearby. His tone brooked no argument.

I climbed into the passenger seat, trembling. As he slammed the door and rounded the vehicle, I realized with a sinking feeling that I wasn't escaping. I was just being moved from one cage to another.

Dimitri POV

The Great Hall was silent, save for the rustling of parchment. I sat at the head of the long mahogany table, my face a mask of indifference, though Ragnar was pacing restlessly in my mind.

Mate safe. Mate home, the beast chanted, satisfied that we had dropped Anais off at her crumbling apartment. I had left warriors to watch the perimeter, though I told myself it was to keep her in, not to keep others out.

"As you can see," Beatrice said, her voice dripping with faux sympathy as she addressed the Council of Elders. She stood near the fireplace, her hand resting on the shoulder of her son, Bryson. "Grafton's will is clear. The heir must be mated to ascend. Dimitri is... unattached. And given his disposition toward women, it is unlikely that will change."

She smiled at me, a shark baring its teeth. "Therefore, as Grafton's widow, I assume the role of Regent until Bryson comes of age."

The Elders murmured in agreement. Beatrice's eyes gleamed with triumph. She thought she had won. She thought she had checkmated me.

"Not quite," I said, my voice cutting through the murmurs.

I pulled the sealed letter from my jacket pocket—the one the High Elder had handed me privately before the meeting. My father's handwriting was shaky on the envelope.

Trust the bond, my son. She is the only way.

I hated him for it. I hated that he had manipulated me, drugged me, and tied me to a wolfless nobody. But I hated Beatrice more.

"I have fulfilled the requirement," I announced, standing up. The room went deathly quiet.

Beatrice's smile faltered. "Impossible. You have no mate."

"I do." I looked her dead in the eye. "The Sacred Bonding Contract was signed by my father before his death. The bond is sealed. The mark is on her finger."

"Lies!" Beatrice shrieked, her composure cracking. "Who? Who would have you?"

I ignored her screeching and looked at my Gamma, Davon, who was standing by the door. I didn't want this. I didn't want a mate, especially not a weak one. But I was the Alpha. And I would not let this pack fall into the hands of a poisoner.

I opened the Mind-Link, projecting my voice so every wolf in the vicinity could hear the command that would seal my fate—and hers.

"Davon. Bring my Mate, Anais Moreno, to the Great Hall. Now. And show her the respect due to your future Luna."

Anais POV

The walk to the Great Hall felt like a march to the gallows. Two warriors flanked me, their grips firm but not bruising, guiding me through corridors that whispered of wealth and power I couldn't comprehend. I was acutely aware of my appearance—faded jeans that were fraying at the hems and a white t-shirt that had seen better days. I was a stain on their pristine tapestry.

When the massive oak doors swung open, the silence that rushed out to meet me was heavier than any noise.

The Great Hall was a cavernous space of stone and velvet, illuminated by iron chandeliers that cast long, dancing shadows. At the far end, seated on a throne carved from dark wood and lined with fur, sat Dimitri. He looked like a king from the old stories—lethal, beautiful, and utterly cold.

As I stepped onto the plush runner, the air in the room shifted. Hundreds of eyes landed on me. I could smell their judgment—a sharp, metallic tang that coated the back of my throat.

"What is that?!"

The shriek tore through the silence. A woman with perfectly coiffed blonde hair and diamonds dripping from her neck stepped forward near the dais. Beatrice. Her face was twisted in a mask of pure revulsion.

She pointed a manicured finger at me, trembling with rage. "You expect us to accept this... this wolfless trash as our Luna?"

A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd. I shrank in on myself, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

"Well done, brother," a voice sneered from beside Beatrice. A young man who looked like a softer, crueler version of Dimitri stepped forward. Bryson. His eyes raked over my body, lingering on my chest and legs with a slimy, predatory hunger that made my skin crawl. "Did you find her in a dumpster behind the Omega slums? She certainly smells like it."

Laughter, sharp and cruel, bubbled up from the gathered elite. Even a girl standing near them—Cassidy, I assumed—wrinkled her nose, looking at me with profound disappointment.

I looked at Dimitri. I didn't know why, but a foolish part of me hoped he would stop this. He was the Alpha. He had claimed me.

But he sat frozen on his throne, his ice-blue eyes staring right through me. He didn't look angry. He didn't look protective. He looked bored. To him, I wasn't a person being flayed alive by his family's cruelty; I was a prop. A piece of paper to be stamped and filed away to secure his crown.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. I was alone.

Tears pricked my eyes, hot and humiliating. I couldn't breathe. The scent of their disdain was suffocating. Before I could think, my body moved. I spun on my heel and ran.

"Hey!" someone shouted, but I didn't stop.

I sprinted back the way we came, my bare feet slapping against the cold stone. I burst through the main doors and into the night air, gasping for oxygen. The gravel of the driveway bit into my soles, but I pushed toward the main gate, toward freedom.

I was almost there when a wall of muscle materialized in front of me.

I skidded to a halt, my chest heaving. It was the man from the office—Davon. He didn't look malicious, but he stood with the immovable solidity of a mountain.

"I'm sorry, Luna," he said, his voice low and regretful. "My Alpha's orders are that you are not to leave the grounds."

"Don't call me that!" I choked out, backing away. "I'm not your Luna. I'm nobody!"

"You are what he says you are."

"Get in the car."

The voice came from behind me, dark and vibrating with power. I spun around to find Dimitri standing by the open door of the black armored SUV. I hadn't even heard him approach. The scent of blizzard and cedar enveloped me, instantly calming my racing heart against my will. I hated it. I hated that my body responded to him while my mind screamed in terror.

"Please," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I just want to go home. My mother... she'll be worried sick. She doesn't know where I am."

Dimitri stared down at me. For a second, the ice in his eyes seemed to crack. His jaw tightened, a muscle feathering in his cheek. He looked at my tear-streaked face, then at my trembling hands.

He stepped closer, invading my personal space until all I could see was him. He reached out, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck. The Physical Surge was instantaneous—a jolt of static electricity that made my knees weak. He wasn't hurting me, but the weight of his hand was a heavy claim.

"You can go," he said, his voice a rough growl that vibrated in my chest.

My eyes widened. "I... I can?"

"You have until sunrise." His grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing the pulse point behind my ear. "Go check on your mother. Pack your things. Say your goodbyes."

He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "But if you are not back on my territory by the time the sun clears the horizon, I will hunt you down myself. And trust me, Anais... you will not enjoy the chase."

He released me abruptly and stepped back, his face once again a mask of indifference. "Driver. Take her."

I scrambled into the backseat of the SUV, the door slamming shut like the lid of a coffin. As the car pulled away, I watched him standing in the driveway, a dark silhouette against the moonlight. I had been given a few hours of freedom, but the invisible leash around my neck had only been lengthened, not cut.