Brooke POV:

I walked.

By the time I reached the estate, my feet were blistered, and the wind had chilled me to the marrow.

My phone buzzed. Easton.

Meet us at the Holland residence. Bring the medical kit from my study. The one with the rare herbs.

I wasn't a wife. I was a glorified TaskRabbit.

I grabbed the kit and drove my beat-up sedan to the Holland estate.

I walked into the living room to find Kelly lounging on a velvet sofa, holding an ice pack to a cheek that wasn't even swollen. Easton was kneeling beside her.

"You're here," Easton said. "Give me the arnica salve."

I handed it over. He applied it gently. In wolf culture, grooming is intimate. It's a claim.

Kelly looked at me, smiled, and rubbed her neck against Easton's wrist. Scent-marking.

Easton didn't pull away.

"Easton," Kelly murmured. "The doctor said I need fresh air. Can we go to the lake house?"

"Of course," Easton said. He stood up. "Brooke, drive us."

I froze. "You want me to chauffeur you and your mistress to your vacation home?"

"She is not my mistress," Easton snapped. "She is a valued member of this pack you assaulted. Make amends."

"I won't."

Easton stepped closer. The air grew heavy. "Do not make me use the Command again. Drive."

The drive was hell. In the rearview mirror, they were a tableau of domestic bliss. Kelly's head on his shoulder, his fingers in her hair.

We arrived at the lake house. The Holland family was waiting on the porch like a welcoming committee.

I stepped out to get my bag.

"Where do you think you're going?" Kelly's mother sneered, blocking my path.

"Inside. It's my husband's house."

"Not tonight," Easton said, Kelly tucked under his arm. "The Hollands are upset. Your presence causes tension. Go back to the city."

"You're kicking me out?"

"I'm managing the peace," he corrected. Then, via Mind-Link :

Go home, Brooke. You're an embarrassment. Don't let your bad luck infect Kelly's recovery.

Bad luck. Is that what he called it? The mines, the poverty, the silent grief I carried?

I got back into the driver's seat. I didn't cry. I just reversed out of the driveway.

My phone pinged.

Mom: "Baby, the silver burn is spreading. Did the Alpha sign the check for the medicine yet?"

Tears finally blurred my vision. I had asked Easton a week ago. He promised. But tonight, he was popping champagne for Kelly while my mother rotted.

I pulled over.

I closed my eyes and found the mental connection to the Spencer Pack. A thick, humming rope.

I found the strand connecting me to Easton. Thin, frayed, cold.

I visualized a steel wall. I pushed against the connection until the hum faded.

For the first time in five years, my mind was quiet.

"No more," I whispered.

Brooke POV:

The silence gave me space to remember.

I thought of my mother. A former warrior, crushed by the Spencer mines. Silver Poisoning-a slow, necrotic rot.

That was why I married Easton. A life for a life.

I remembered high school. Kelly and her friends cornering me in the locker room. Throwing dried Wolfsbane into the vents.

I was choking, dying. Then the door burst open.

Easton Spencer. He carried me out. Pine and rain.

Mate.

But he had just set me down and said, "Be more careful, Rollins."

I clung to that memory. A fool's hope.

Then came the wedding. A political union. Kelly ran away, leaving the Spencers needing a bride. I volunteered for the medical bills.

"This is a business arrangement," he had said. "Do not expect affection. Do not expect a Marking."

I pulled into the villa driveway. Dark. Empty.

I walked past the master bedroom to the guest room. My room.

Six months ago, I overheard Easton talking to his Beta.

"Why don't you mark her?"

"She's a miner's daughter, Mark. An Omega. Her blood is weak. She's just a warm body. She isn't fit to carry my heir. "

My hand drifted to my stomach. A phantom cramp twisted my gut. He didn't know. He didn't know about the winter solstice three years ago. The blood. The tiny life that flickered out because my body was too weak from stress and neglect. I never told him. Why would I? He barely looked at me.

I grabbed a suitcase.

I didn't pack the designer clothes. I packed my worn jeans, sketchbooks, and the wooden wolf carving my father made before his 'accident.' A car crash on a straight road. The brakes failed. The police called it bad luck. I always called it suspicious.

I looked in the mirror. My neck was smooth. No bite mark.

"Thank the Goddess," I whispered.

If he had marked me, leaving would kill me. But an unmarked bond? It would just feel like tearing a muscle.

I zipped the suitcase. The sound was a gavel strike.

But first, one last thing.

Brooke POV:

I went to Easton's study. I told myself I was looking for the prenup.

I found it. Page twelve.

If the Omega initiates divorce... banishment. Forfeits all financial support.

Banishment. Rogue status. A death sentence. But looking at the text, the wild seemed safer than this house.

I closed the drawer, but saw a cardboard box shoved in the back.

Inside were five boxes. My anniversary gifts to him.

I opened the first. A hand-tooled leather watch strap. Unworn.

The second. A jar of herbal tea for Alpha Rage. Sealed. The herbs had turned to dust.

He hadn't even opened them. My love, rotting in a dark corner.

Buzz.

Easton.

Get to Kelly's penthouse. Now. It's her 'Recovery Party'.

No, I typed.

The phone rang instantly.

"Don't test me, Brooke," Easton growled. "You are the Lady of the House. Your absence starts rumors. Get here in twenty minutes, or I send the enforcers."

The Alpha Command bloomed behind my eyes like a migraine. My body betrayed me, moving toward the door while my mind screamed.

"Fine," I spat.

I arrived at Kelly's penthouse. Thumping bass. The pack's elite.

"Ah, the driver is back," Kelly announced. She wore red. Blood red.

Easton sat beside her. "Sit."

He pointed to the end of the table.

Waiters brought steaks. Everyone got a sear.

My plate? Raw. Bloody. Cold.

"Oops," Kelly giggled. "I told the chef since you have such... primitive origins, you'd prefer it like a wild animal. Like a Rogue."

Laughter.

"Eat up, Brooke," Kelly's brother jeered.

I looked at Easton. He was cutting his steak. Complicit silence.

"I'm not hungry," I said.

"Look at this," Kelly tapped her chest.

A diamond necklace with a glowing moonstone. The Spencer Luna Stone.

My blood ran cold.

"Easton gave it to me," Kelly preened. "He said it looked too heavy for your skinny neck."

I looked at Easton, trembling. "You gave her the heirloom? That belongs to the Luna."

Easton sipped his wine. "She's just wearing it for the night. Stop being possessive. You aren't fit to wear it. It requires a strong aura. On you, it would look like glass."

Crack.

Not my heart. My cage.

My inner wolf stood up. She shook off the chains.

The candles flickered.

Not fit? My inner voice snarled. Watch me.