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.

Brooke POV:

"Let's play a game!" Kelly announced. "The Hunt. But digital."

She walked to a console. "The computer decides pairs based on genetic compatibility."

A trap. Kelly's family owned the software.

"Easton first," Kelly cooed.

Easton scanned his hand. ALPHA EASTON SPENCER.

Kelly scanned hers.

COMPATIBILITY: 99%.

Applause.

I gripped the table. Statistically impossible. Even Easton frowned, but he stayed silent.

"Now Brooke," Kelly smiled. "Maybe the gardener?"

"I'm not playing," I stood up.

"Sit down," Easton warned.

"I'm leaving."

Easton moved in a blur. He grabbed my wrist. Iron grip.

"You will not walk away. Don't act like a feral dog."

"A feral dog? Is that all I am?"

"Right now? Yes."

"Okay," Kelly grabbed his other arm. "Highest match spends seven minutes in 'The Den'."

She pointed to a soundproof closet.

"Easton," I pleaded. Not as a wife, but as a human. "Don't go in there. If you do, there is no coming back."

Easton looked at my cheap dress, then at Kelly's diamond necklace and the fake 99%.

He dropped my wrist.

"Grow up, Brooke. It's just a game."

He took Kelly's hand.

They stepped inside. The lock clicked.

The sound of a guillotine dropping.

I stood alone in the crowd.

I reached into my pocket. My anniversary gift. Silver ore cufflinks, treated not to burn.

I walked to the trash can.

I dropped the box in.

Then, I walked out into the biting wind.

The contract was broken. He had rejected me.

Now, it was my turn.