Seraphina POV:

"On your knees!" Bella shouted.

Before I could react to Lola's claws, Bella kicked the back of my knee. It was a cowardly move, typical of a Gamma who only felt strong when the odds were two against one.

My leg buckled. I hit the marble floor hard.

The humiliation was instant. I, the heir to the Vitiello throne, the daughter of the King, was kneeling before a barmaid and her lackey.

"That's better," Lola sneered, looming over me. "This is where you belong. Beneath us."

She grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back, exposing my throat. Her claws dug into my scalp.

"I should tear your throat out right here," Lola hissed. "Save Dante the trouble of firing you."

"If you touch me again," I said, my voice dropping an octave, vibrating with a warning that no human should possess, "you will pray to the Moon Goddess for death before I am finished with you."

Lola paused. For a second, genuine fear flickered in her eyes. She felt it—the static electricity that was starting to crackle in the air around me.

Then her eyes dropped to my chest. To the silver locket that had swung loose when I fell.

"What is this trash?" She reached out and grabbed the pendant.

"Don't touch that!" I screamed.

It wasn't fear for myself. It was fear for them. Fear for the building. That locket contained the only thing keeping the monster inside me from leveling the city block.

"A goodbye present from mommy?" Lola mocked. "It looks cheap. Just like you."

She yanked.

The silver chain was old. It snapped with a sickening *ping*.

"No!" I lunged for it, but Bella stomped on my hand, grinding her heel into my fingers.

Lola held the locket up to the light. "Let's see what you're hiding."

She dropped it on the floor.

Time seemed to slow down. I watched the silver oval fall, end over end. I saw it hit the polished marble.

Lola lifted her stiletto heel.

"Give it back!" I begged. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"Oops," Lola said, deadpan.

She brought her heel down.

*Crunch.*

The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet lobby. The ancient silver shattered. The dried Moonshade Herb inside—a priceless botanical treasure from the old world—turned to dust.

For a second, I felt an agonizing hollowness, as if my heart had been ripped out with the silver. That locket was the last piece of the soft, human girl I had tried so hard to be. I grieved her death for exactly one heartbeat.

Then, the shockwave hit.

It started in my chest. A heat so intense it felt like I had swallowed a star. The barrier that had held back my White Wolf lineage for seven years evaporated.

The air in the lobby changed instantly. The temperature dropped twenty degrees. The smell of cheap perfume was obliterated by a new scent.

My scent.

It rolled off me in waves. Winter frost. Fresh blood. Ancient pine. And the overwhelming, crushing weight of pure, undiluted power.

I stopped struggling. The pain in my hand vanished. The pain in my heart vanished.

There was only the Wolf.

My eyes snapped open. The brown contact lenses I wore couldn't hide the change. My irises flooded with liquid silver, glowing like twin moons.

I stood up. Bella stumbled back, her instinct screaming at her to run. Lola froze, her foot still on the broken pieces of my mother's necklace.

*The masquerade is over,* my wolf purred in my mind. *Hunt them.*

"You broke the seal," I said. My voice wasn't my own anymore. It carried the Alpha Tone—a resonance that vibrated in the bones of everyone in the room.

Lola trembled. "What... what are you?"

I smiled, and my teeth felt sharper. "I am your reckoning."

Seraphina POV:

My burner phone began to ring. It was a jarring, cheerful tune that cut through the thick tension in the room.

It was in my pocket, vibrating against my hip.

"Answer it," Lola stammered, trying to regain control. She gestured to Bella. "Get that phone away from her."

Bella reached out with shaking hands and pulled the phone from my pocket. She looked at the caller ID.

"It says... Papa," Bella scoffed, though her voice wavered. "Calling for daddy to save you?"

I didn't move. I just watched them. The air around me was shimmering with power. The guards by the door had already dropped to one knee, their heads bowed, their wolves forcing them into submission before they even understood why.

Lola snatched the phone from Bella and hit answer. She put it on speaker, holding it up like a weapon.

"Listen here, old man," Lola shouted into the receiver. "Your daughter is a psycho stalker. Come pick up her trash before I have security throw her out on the street."

Silence on the other end.

Then, a sound. *Crack.*

It sounded like solid oak being pulverized by a bare hand.

"Who is this?" The voice that came through the speaker was deep, rough, and cold as the grave. It was a voice that made Alphas across the continent wake up in a cold sweat.

"I am the future Luna of the Moretti Pack!" Lola shrieked, her bravado crumbling. "She attacked me! I had to destroy her stupid little necklace just to get her to stop!"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop another ten degrees.

"You destroyed the seal?" Don Salvatore Vitiello asked. His voice was dangerously quiet. "You broke the containment?"

"It was just a piece of junk!" Lola yelled.

"Good," Salvatore said. "Put her on."

Lola hesitated. The authority in the man's voice was undeniable. Her hand shook as she held the phone out to me.

I took it. My fingers brushed hers, and she flinched as if I were made of fire.

"Papa," I said.

"Seraphina," his voice softened, but the rage underneath was palpable. "The contract?"

"Void," I said. My voice was steady, heavy with the Alpha timber. "He betrayed the blood. He chose a whore over the crown."

"And the Omertà?" he asked. The code of silence.

"Finished," I replied. I looked at Lola, who was now backing away, pale as a sheet. "Burn them. Burn them all to ash."

"With pleasure, *figlia mia*," he growled. "Look outside."

A low thrumming sound began to vibrate the glass walls of the lobby. It grew louder, a rhythmic *thwup-thwup-thwup* that shook the chandeliers.

Shadows fell over the building.

I looked through the glass doors. The sky above 5th Avenue was swarming. Five black military-grade helicopters hovered in formation. On the side of each one was painted a crest in gold: A Griffin and a Wolf.

The Royal Crest of House Vitiello.

"You said you wanted a ceremony, Lola?" I asked, dropping the phone and letting it shatter on the floor next to my mother's locket. "My father brought the fireworks."

Lola looked at the helicopters, then back at me. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"You... you're human," she whispered, tears of terror welling in her eyes. "You're just a secretary."

I stepped closer, my silver eyes boring into her soul.

"I am the White Wolf," I said. "And you are standing on my territory."

Seraphina POV:

The street outside was in chaos. Four armored SUVs screeched to a halt in front of the building, blocking traffic. Men in black tactical gear poured out, their movements precise and lethal. These weren't security guards. They were the Royal Guard—the elite executioners of the werewolf world.

The revolving doors spun.

Dante walked in.

He looked impeccable in a custom tuxedo, his hair gelled back, a red rose in his lapel. He was beaming, clearly expecting to walk into a surprise party for his engagement.

"What is all the noise?" Dante asked, adjusting his cufflinks. "I told the pilot not to land the chopper until—"

He stopped.

He saw the guards on their knees. He saw Lola trembling in the corner. And then, he smelled it.

He inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. The scent of the White Wolf hit him like a physical blow. It was the scent of a predator so high up the food chain that his own wolf instantly whimpered and curled into a ball inside his mind.

He turned slowly and looked at me.

I was standing in the center of the room, blood still drying on my lip, but I looked taller. Stronger.

"Seraphina?" he asked, confusion warring with fear. "What... what did you do? Why do you smell like that?"

Lola ran to him, clutching his arm. "Dante! She's crazy! She called some gang! Look outside!"

Dante looked at the soldiers swarming the entrance. He looked at the crest on their chests. His face went white.

"That's... that's the King's crest," he stammered.

He turned back to me, a nervous sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Seraphina, look, I know you're upset about the engagement. I was going to give you a severance package. A big one! Fifty thousand dollars!"

I laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound. "Fifty thousand? My father spends that on wine for dinner."

"Your father?" Dante frowned. "Your father is a nobody. A human criminal."

The glass doors shattered inward.

Don Salvatore Vitiello stepped through the ruin of the entrance. He was a giant of a man, wearing a bespoke Italian suit that couldn't hide the massive muscles underneath. His presence was suffocating. He didn't just walk; he consumed the space around him.

Ten Royal Warriors flanked him, their assault rifles raised, their eyes locked on Dante.

Dante's knees began to shake. He recognized the face. Everyone knew the face of the Alpha King. It was the face of death.

"D-Don Salvatore?" Dante squeaked. "To what do I owe the honor? Is this about the territory dispute in Jersey? I can explain—"

Salvatore didn't even look at him. His eyes were fixed on the bruise forming on my cheek.

"Who touched her?" Salvatore asked softly.

The silence was absolute.

"Who touched my blood?" Salvatore roared, his voice amplifying with an Alpha Command that shattered the remaining windows in the lobby.

Dante's eyes widened. He looked at me. Then at the King. Then back at me. The pieces finally clicked into place. The "human" secretary. The mysterious father. The bet.

"No," Dante whispered. "It's not possible."

Salvatore raised his hand. He didn't use a weapon. He simply released his aura.

"Kneel," the King commanded.

It wasn't a request. It was a biological imperative.

Dante tried to fight it. His ego, his arrogance, tried to keep him standing. But he was a boy facing a god. His legs collapsed. He slammed onto the marble floor, his knees cracking against the stone.

He was forced into a bow, his forehead touching the ground at my feet.

Lola screamed, trying to pull him up. "Get up, Dante! Why are you bowing to them?"

"Shut up, you idiot!" Dante hissed into the floor, his voice trembling with terror. "That's the King! That's the Alpha King!"

I walked over to where Dante lay prostrate. I placed my foot gently on his head, pressing his face into the dirt.

"You wanted a wolf, Dante," I said, leaning down. "Well, here I am."