Dimitri POV

Forty-eight hours.

That was how long Anais had been in my suite, and she hadn't eaten a single crumb. Her scent, usually a field of fresh lilies, had soured into something that smelled like wilted flowers and rain-soaked earth. It permeated every inch of the Alpha Wing, a constant, suffocating reminder of her grief that clawed at my sanity.

She is fading, Ragnar paced in the back of my mind, his claws scraping against my skull. Fix it. Feed her.

I sat in my private study, the air thick with the scent of cedar and my own agitation. A pile of documents regarding the transition of power lay ignored on the mahogany desk.

"Alpha." Davon's voice broke through the Mind-Link, sharp and hesitant. "The police report is in. They're ruling it a random Rogue attack. A robbery gone wrong."

My grip on the fountain pen tightened until the plastic barrel snapped, ink bleeding onto my fingers like black blood.

"That's a lie," I projected back, my mental voice cold enough to freeze the link. "Rogues are scavengers, not assassins. They kill for food or territory, not to silence a lone Omega woman in her own home. This was an execution. Find the truth, Davon. Our truth."

"Understood," Davon replied instantly. "I'll deploy the trackers."

I wiped the ink from my hand, my eyes narrowing at the map of the territory on the wall. Someone had walked into my city, slaughtered the mother of my Mate, and thought they could hide behind a lazy police report.

By the afternoon, Davon stood before my desk in the flesh. He looked grim.

"We found them," he said, his voice low. "Two human mercenaries trying to cross the border into the next county. They had cash—untraceable bills. They admitted to the hit but claim they don't know the employer. Everything was done through dead drops."

A low growl vibrated in my chest, deep and dangerous. Mercenaries. This was calculated.

"The police are asking for them to be handed over," Davon continued, watching me carefully.

I stood up, my shadow stretching long across the floor. "They will not see the inside of a human court. Bring them to the cells. They will face Pack justice."

The Warrior standing guard by the door stiffened, his eyes widening in shock. To interfere with a human homicide investigation was risky; to take the suspects for ourselves was a declaration of war against the system. But I didn't care.

"Alpha..." Davon started, but I cut him off with a look.

"Do it."

Once he left, the silence of the study became unbearable. Ragnar was whining, urging me to go to her. I found myself walking down the hallway toward the guest room, drawn by the magnetic pull of the bond.

I stopped outside her door. I could hear nothing, but the scent of her sorrow was so potent it tasted like ash on my tongue. I raised my hand to knock, but my arm froze.

What would I say? I knew how to command armies. I knew how to break bones. I did not know how to mend a shattered girl.

Cowardice, bitter and unfamiliar, coated my throat.

"The ones who hurt your mother have been found," I said to the closed door, my voice harsh and devoid of the emotion churning inside me. "They will pay."

I didn't wait for a response. I turned and walked away, my footsteps heavy, just as a soft, broken sob echoed from behind the wood.

Ayesha POV

The Alpha's estate was terrifying. It was a fortress of stone and glass, smelling of power and predators. When the guards had "escorted" me from my apartment, I thought I was going to die. Instead, they brought me here, to a guest room that was bigger than my entire house.

"She's inside," the guard grunted, opening the door.

I stepped in, and my heart broke.

Anais was sitting on the edge of a massive bed, looking like a doll that had been dropped and forgotten. Her eyes were red and swollen, staring at a spot on the floor.

"Anais?"

Her head snapped up. "Ayesha?"

I rushed over and sat beside her, grabbing her ice-cold hands. "Oh, god. I heard... I heard about Amber. I'm so sorry."

She didn't speak. She just trembled, her lower lip quivering as she tried to hold it back.

"I know it hurts," I whispered, squeezing her hands. "When I lost my parents to that Rogue attack... I thought I would stop breathing. My Elder told me something then." I brushed a stray hair from her face. "He said we have to live for them now. We have to be strong enough for the both of us, because they'd want us to."

It was a simple thing to say, but it seemed to cut the strings holding her together.

Anais let out a strangled cry and collapsed into me. I wrapped my arms around her, rocking her as she screamed her grief into my shoulder. It was a raw, ugly sound, but it was better than the silence.

In this cold, terrifying castle, we held onto each other—two girls against a world that wanted to crush us.

Dimitri POV

Five days. That was how long the silence had lasted in the Alpha Wing, but outside these stone walls, the noise was beginning to rise.

I sat in my private study, the air heavy with the scent of cedar and old parchment. The map of the Blackwood territory hung on the wall, pins marking the borders, but my eyes were fixed on the door. My hearing, sharpened by Ragnar, picked up the rapid, agitated heartbeat of my Beta before he even knocked.

"Enter," I commanded, my voice rough like gravel.

Davon slipped inside, closing the heavy oak door with a decisive click. He didn't bow; he stood rigid, his jaw set in a line of grim determination.

"Speak, Davon. You smell like anxiety."

"It's the Pack, Alpha," Davon said, stepping forward. "Whispers. They started in the lower quarters but have bled into the warrior barracks."

I leaned back in my leather chair, the wood creaking under my weight. "Whispers about the mercenaries?"

"No," Davon hesitated, his eyes flicking to the floor before meeting mine. "About you. And her."

Ragnar paced in the cage of my mind, a low growl vibrating in my chest. They dare speak of our Mate?

"They are saying..." Davon swallowed hard. "They are saying your ascension was... unnatural. That you have bound yourself to a 'wolfless Omega' not out of fate, but out of a curse. The rumor is that her lack of a wolf weakens the Pack's spiritual connection to the Moon Goddess. They say you are compromising our strength for a... pet."

The fountain pen in my hand didn't snap this time; I set it down with deliberate, terrifying slowness.

This wasn't idle gossip. This was poison. It was a calculated strike at the foundation of my authority, timed perfectly when I was distracted by grief and investigation.

Kill them, Ragnar roared, his bloodlust spiking. Tear out their throats.

I silenced him with a thought. Violence was easy; politics was the true war.

"A wolfless Omega," I repeated, my voice dropping to a temperature that frosted the air between us. "Someone is weaponizing her tragedy to question my crown."

"The Elders are already asking for a council meeting," Davon added quietly.

I stood up, towering over the desk. My shadow engulfed the room. "Let them ask. But first, cut off the head of the snake." I walked to the window, looking out at the sprawling estate that was now a battlefield. "Find the source, Davon. I want the name of the first wolf who spoke this lie. I don't care if it was a maid or a Gamma. Bring them to me."

"Consider it done, Alpha."

Beatrice POV

My private wing was a sanctuary of silk and imported perfume, a stark contrast to the barbaric stone and leather that dominated the rest of the Pack House. Here, the air smelled of lavender and secrets.

I watched my daughter, Cassidy, admiring herself in the gilded mirror. She was twirling a diamond necklace—a pittance from her father's will—around her finger, humming a tune. She was beautiful, yes, but painfully simple. She had her father's eyes but none of his ruthlessness.

"You seem content, darling," I said, sipping my tea. "Picking through the crumbs Dimitri left for you."

Cassidy stopped twirling the necklace, frowning. "It's not crumbs, Mother. It's a generous allowance. And Dimitri is Alpha now. It's the law."

"The law," I scoffed, setting the china cup down with a sharp clatter. "Written by men who would see us destitute."

I patted the velvet cushion beside me. "Come here, Cassidy. It is time you stopped living in a fairy tale."

She sat, looking confused. "What do you mean?"

I took her soft hands in mine, my expression shifting to one of tragic burden. "Do you truly believe Grafton would leave his empire to him? To a boy who shares none of our fire?"

"Dimitri is his son..."

"Is he?" I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, the kind that snakes into the ear and rots the brain. "Grafton brought him home when he was an infant, claiming he was his. But I saw the truth in Grafton's eyes every time he looked at the boy. Fear."

Cassidy's face went pale. "Mother, what are you saying?"

"He is a cuckoo in our nest, my love," I hissed, squeezing her hands tight enough to hurt. "A bastard stray Grafton took in out of pity, or perhaps blackmail. And now? Now this usurper has brought his wolfless trash to be our Luna. A weak, broken thing to breed weak, broken heirs."

I leaned closer, my eyes boring into hers. "He knows he doesn't belong. That is why he pushes us aside. Soon, he will cast us out—Grafton's true blood—to make way for his own dynasty of mongrels. Do you want to lose your home to a girl who can't even Shift?"

Cassidy pulled back, her breath hitching. The doubt I planted bloomed instantly into fear, and then, predictably, into anger. The thought of losing her status, her home, to an outsider was more than her vanity could bear.

"He... he wouldn't," she stammered, but her eyes were hardening.

"He already is," I lied smoothly. "We must be smart, Cassidy. We must smile, and bow, and wait for your brother Bryson to return. We will take back what is ours."

Cassidy looked at me, the innocence gone, replaced by a cold resolve that finally made her look like my daughter.

"I won't let him take this house," she whispered. "I hate him."

I smiled, stroking her hair. "Good girl."