Ava POV:

The wound on my arm was still throbbing the next morning. It was an ugly, angry red, the silver burn refusing to close. As an Omega-or at least, appearing as one-my healing factor was painfully slow. I wrapped it in gauze and pulled on a long-sleeved silk blouse.

"Get down here," Donovan's voice boomed from downstairs. No mind-link. He refused to link with me. He said my mind was too 'quiet' and it annoyed him.

I walked down the grand staircase. Donovan was waiting by the door, tapping his watch. Next to him stood Chloe.

Chloe Sanders was small, blonde, and projected an image of fragility that fooled everyone except me. She was a low-ranked wolf, but she had the ambition of a queen. And she smelled... wrong. Underneath the expensive perfume, there was the metallic tang of dark herbs.

"Isabella," Chloe squeaked, shrinking behind Donovan as I approached. "Oh, Alpha, she looks so angry. Her Luna aura... it scares me."

I almost laughed. I had no aura. I was suppressing everything I had. But Donovan bought it. He always bought it.

"Lower your eyes, Isabella," Donovan growled, stepping between us protectively. "You are frightening her."

My wolf, Seraphina, snarled in the back of my mind. Rip her throat out, she suggested.

Not yet, I told her. Twenty hours. Just twenty hours.

"I apologize, Chloe," I said, my voice flat. I lowered my head, staring at Donovan's polished shoes. "I didn't mean to offend."

"She's hungry," Donovan said, not looking at me. "Make her something. The chefs are busy preparing for the gala."

"Me?" I looked up. "Donovan, I'm the Luna of this pack. You want me to cook?"

"You are a wife," he retorted coldly. "And Chloe is a guest under my protection. A guest you terrified last night by delaying her medicine. Go. Make her a steak. Rare."

Humiliation burned my cheeks. In werewolf culture, preparing raw meat was a task for the lowest Omega servants. He was stripping me of my rank in front of his mistress.

"Yes, Alpha," I whispered.

I went to the kitchen. The pack staff watched me in silence. They didn't respect me-they followed Donovan's lead. If the Alpha treated his mate like trash, the pack treated her like trash.

I seared the steak, the smell of blood making my stomach turn. I placed it on a plate and carried it out to the dining room.

Chloe sat at the head of the table-my seat. Donovan sat beside her, hand resting on her knee.

"Here," I said, placing the plate down.

Chloe looked at the meat, then at me, a smirk playing on her lips. "It looks a bit tough. Did you cut it properly?"

"It's fine, Chloe," Donovan said, but his eyes were on me, narrowing. He looked... uncomfortable. He rubbed his chest, right over his heart.

For a moment, I wondered if his wolf was reacting to the injustice. The Inner Wolf has a moral compass, even if the man doesn't. But then Chloe placed her hand over his, and whatever clarity he had vanished.

"Let's go inspect the borders," Donovan said abruptly, standing up. "You stay here, Isabella. Stay out of sight."

"Gladly," I muttered as they left.

The moment the door closed, I ran upstairs. I pulled a suitcase from under the bed. I didn't pack clothes or jewelry. I packed my documents. My fake passport. The bank account details where the fifty million would land.

Then, I began the cleaning.

I took a bottle of industrial-strength neutralizer spray. I sprayed the bed, the closet, the bathroom. I wiped down every surface I had touched. I wanted to erase myself. When I left tomorrow, I didn't want a single molecule of my scent remaining in this house.

My phone buzzed with a news notification.

"Alpha Donovan Blackwood and Chloe Sanders spotted on luxury yacht. Is a new Luna rising?"

I clicked the link. The photo showed Donovan laughing-actually laughing-holding a glass of champagne, with Chloe draped over his shoulder. The caption speculated that they were preparing for their "pre-heat cycle."

My heart didn't break. It had turned to stone years ago.

I went to the bathroom cabinet and took out a small vial. It was the last dose of the herbal concoction my mother had given me. It tasted like dirt and ash.

I drank it in one gulp.

The potion burned my throat. It locked Seraphina away in a cage of shadows, suppressing the White Wolf blood, suppressing the mate bond, suppressing the pheromones.

I looked at my reflection.

"Goodbye, Isabella," I whispered. "Tomorrow, you die. And Ava will finally breathe."

Ava POV:

The next morning, Donovan was gone. The maids whispered that he had stayed on the yacht with Chloe.

I was summoned to the Council Hall.

The Elders of the Blackwood Pack were old, traditional men who cared only about lineage and power. I walked into the circular room, my head held high despite the fear churning in my gut.

"Where is Alpha Donovan?" Elder Thomas asked, his voice like grinding stones.

"He is... handling border disputes," I lied smoothly.

"Liar!"

The cane struck the table with a crack that made me flinch. It was Donovan's grandfather, the former Alpha, Silas Blackwood. He was a cruel man, the one who had taught Donovan that love was a weakness.

He threw a stack of photos onto the table. They were the pictures from the news-Donovan and Chloe on the yacht.

"The whole world is laughing at us!" Silas roared. "An Alpha who parades his mistress while his Luna sits at home like a useless ornament! You have failed to capture his heart, Isabella. You have failed to give us an heir. You are weak."

"I cannot force him to love me," I said quietly.

"Love?" Silas spat. "I'm talking about duty! If you cannot seduce your husband, you are useless to this pack."

He signaled to the guards. Two large warriors grabbed my arms.

"No!" I struggled, but I was powerless against them. They dragged me toward the back of the hall, toward the 'Correction Room.'

"A lesson," Silas said, following us. "To remind you of your place."

They threw me onto the cold concrete floor. Silas raised his cane. It was made of polished hickory, but I knew the tip was dipped in liquid wolfsbane.

Whack.

The cane struck my back. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. I would not scream. I would not give them the satisfaction.

Whack.

The wolfsbane burned through my shirt, sizzling against my skin. My nerves felt like they were on fire. Seraphina howled in agony, but she was too weak to heal me.

Whack. Whack. Whack.

I lost count. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision.

I woke up in my bed at the estate. My back was on fire. Every breath was a struggle.

I turned my head and saw a figure sitting in the armchair. Donovan.

He looked... tired. He was staring at me with a strange expression. Not love, but perhaps curiosity.

"Grandfather told me what happened," he said, his voice low. "He said you didn't scream. Not once."

I tried to sit up, but the pain forced me back down. "I didn't want to give him the pleasure."

Donovan stood up and walked to the bed. He reached out, his hand hovering over my face. "Why do you stay? Why do you endure this? Is it... loyalty?"

For a second, his fingers brushed my cheek. A spark-tiny, weak, but there-jumped between us. His eyes widened. He leaned in closer, inhaling sharply. The scent blocker was wearing off slightly due to the trauma.

"Isabella?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "You smell like..."

Link: Donovan! Help me! My stomach! It hurts!

Chloe's voice screamed through the mind-link, loud enough that even I could sense the distress radiating from him.

Donovan pulled back as if burned. The softness in his eyes vanished, replaced by panic.

"Chloe needs me," he said abruptly. He turned his back on me. "Rest. We have the charity gala tonight. You must attend."

"Donovan," I rasped. "I can't move."

"You will be there," he commanded, walking out the door. "Image is everything."

Three hours later, I was in a car, heavily medicated with painkillers, driven by a driver to a boutique in town. Donovan had ordered a new dress to cover the bandages.

I stepped out of the car, my legs shaking. People on the street stared. I looked like a ghost.

Donovan met me there. He looked guilty, which annoyed me more than his anger. He bought the most expensive silk gown in the shop-a blood-red dress with long sleeves and a high back.

"This will hide the marks," he said, handing the box to the assistant.

We walked out of the shop. Across the street, near a construction site, Chloe was waiting. She saw us, saw the shopping bag, and her face twisted in jealousy.

"Donovan!" she called out, running toward us. She ignored the 'Do Not Enter' signs of the construction zone. "You promised to have lunch with me!"

"Chloe, wait, it's not safe!" Donovan shouted.

She ran into the scaffolding area, playing the damsel. "I'm so dizzy, Donovan!"

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed. A metal clamp high above gave way. A pile of steel pipes and heavy wooden planks began to slide.

Directly above Chloe.

"No!" Donovan roared. He shifted-partially-his claws extending, and he sprinted toward her with supernatural speed.

He tackled her, covering her body with his own just as the debris crashed down.

Dust billowed into the air.

"Donovan!" I screamed, running forward despite my injuries.

The dust settled. Donovan was groaning, a heavy pipe across his legs. But Chloe... Chloe was screaming. A piece of rebar had pierced her side. Blood-bright red and copious-was pooling around her.

"My baby!" she shrieked, though she wasn't pregnant. "I'm dying! Donovan!"

Donovan shoved the pipes off himself, ignoring his own broken leg which was already snapping back into place. He gathered Chloe in his arms.

He looked at me, his eyes wild with panic.

"Call the hospital!" he roared at me. "If she dies, Isabella, I will destroy this entire town!"

Donovan POV:

The hospital waiting room smelled of antiseptic and fear. My wolf, Titan, was pacing in my mind, agitated. But strangely, Titan wasn't howling for Chloe. He was growling at me.

Something is wrong, Titan rumbled. We are missing something.

"Shut up," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

The doctor, a gray-haired Beta named Dr. Evans, burst through the double doors. He looked pale.

"Alpha," he said urgently. "Miss Sanders has internal bleeding. Her liver is lacerated. She needs a transfusion immediately, or she won't last the hour."

"Take my blood," I said, rolling up my sleeve. "Take it all."

"We can't," Dr. Evans shook his head. "Her body is rejecting standard donors. It's a reaction to the dark magic residue in her system from... whatever supplements she's been taking. We need a donor with a bloodline strong enough to override the rejection. Ancient blood."

My heart stopped. "Find a donor. Fly them in. I don't care what it costs."

"There is no time, Alpha. She has minutes."

"I can do it."

The voice was quiet. I turned. Isabella stood by the vending machine, still wearing the dusty clothes from the accident scene. She looked frail, like a strong wind could blow her away.

"You?" I stared at her. "You're a Miller. Your bloodline is diluted. It won't work."

"Check me," she said, extending her arm. The arm that I knew was covered in burns beneath her sleeve.

Dr. Evans didn't hesitate. He dragged her into the trauma room.

Ten minutes later, he came out. He looked shaken. "It's a match. It's... incredible, Alpha. Her blood markers aren't just compatible; they're pure. Like the White Wolf legends. It's neutralizing the toxins instantly."

I watched through the glass window as they hooked Isabella up. She lay on the bed, her face waxy pale. The bag filled with dark, rich crimson. She was giving life to the woman who tried to destroy her marriage.

My nostrils flared. The scent of the blood in that bag didn't smell like iron and rust. It smelled like ozone and electricity. It made Titan howl with recognition.

Why? I wondered. Why would she save her rival?

Because she is good, Titan whispered. Better than us.

An hour later, Chloe was stable. I sat by her bedside, holding her hand. Isabella was in the next room, recovering, but I hadn't gone to see her yet. Guilt was a heavy stone in my gut.

Chloe's eyes fluttered open. "Donny?"

"I'm here, baby," I soothed.

"Is she... is she here?" Chloe's voice was weak, fearful.

"Isabella? She saved your life, Chloe. She gave you blood."

Chloe's eyes widened in terror. She gripped my hand with surprising strength. "No! No, Donovan! It's a curse! She put a curse in the blood! I can feel it! It's burning me!"

"What? Chloe, that's crazy."

"She's a witch!" Chloe sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "She wants to kill me from the inside! You have to break the bond! You have to prove you don't belong to her!"

"Shh, calm down."

"The Moon Lake!" Chloe shrieked. "Throw her in the Moon Lake! The cold water purifies dark magic. If she survives, she's innocent. If she drowns... she was a witch! Please, Donovan! I can feel her magic eating my heart!"

I looked at Chloe's terrified face. The scent of her fear was overwhelming. It triggered my protective instinct, burying my logic. And deep down, I wanted to test Isabella. That scent... that powerful blood... it didn't match the weak Omega I knew. I needed to see if she would break.

"Okay," I said, my voice hollow. "Okay. I'll do it."

I marched into Isabella's room. She was sitting up, drinking juice. She looked up at me, expecting a 'thank you'.

"Get up," I said.

"Donovan? Is she okay?"

"We are going to the lake."

I dragged her out of the hospital. I ignored her questions. I ignored the way she stumbled. I drove to the Moon Lake, a glacial body of water on the pack border. It was freezing, even for wolves.

We stood on the pier. The water was black and ominous.

"Chloe thinks you cursed her blood," I said, staring at the horizon. I couldn't look at her.

"I saved her life!" Isabella cried, her voice cracking. "I gave her my blood!"

"If you are innocent, the water won't hurt you. It's an old tradition."

"Donovan, please. I'm weak. The silver burns... I can't swim in this."

"Jump."

I used the Alpha Command.

I saw her body stiffen. I saw the betrayal in her eyes-a look so profound it felt like a physical blow. She stepped to the edge.

And she fell.

Splash.

The water swallowed her. I waited. One minute. Two minutes.

She didn't surface.

Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through the haze of Chloe's potion. What have I done?

"Isabella!" I dove in.

The water was like knives. I swam down, my wolf eyes adjusting to the gloom. I saw her sinking, her red hair floating like a halo. She wasn't fighting. She was letting go.

I grabbed her waist and kicked for the surface. I dragged her onto the wooden planks. She wasn't breathing.

"Breathe, damn you!" I pumped her chest. "Breathe!"

Water expelled from her lungs. She coughed, a ragged, terrible sound. She curled into a ball, shivering violently.

"Free..." she mumbled, her eyes glazed, looking right through me. "Just... a few more hours... free..."

I froze. "Free from what? From the water?"

She didn't answer. She passed out.

I picked her up, holding her close to my chest. She felt so small. My heart was pounding a rhythm that felt dangerously like regret.

She wants to be free of us, Titan growled. And after today, I don't blame her.