Janette POV:

The Pack Medical Center smelled of bleach and lies.

"Your hormone levels are erratic, Janette," Dr. Evans mumbled, typing away. "It's consistent with Omega Hysteria."

"I'm grieving, not hysterical."

"Garrison thinks you might be a danger to yourself."

Right on cue, Sarah, the Alpha's assistant, walked in with a stack of files.

"The Alpha requested you sign these today," Sarah said.

I opened the folder. Transfer of Property Rights. Power of Attorney. And buried in the middle of a fifty-page rider: Dissolution of Mating Bond - Preliminary Agreement with a clause for 'Unfit Mental State'.

My heart slammed against my ribs. He was trying to legally commit me and strip me of my status simultaneously.

"He said it's just a formality," Sarah said, tapping her pen. "Standard asset protection while you get... help."

She exchanged a knowing look with the doctor. They were going to lock me up.

Garrison was arrogant. He thought I was the stupid little Omega who just signed where the 'X' was.

"I need the digital pad," I said softly. "My hands are shaking too bad for a pen."

Sarah sighed, annoyed, and loaded the docs onto a tablet. "Fine. Just thumbprint the bottom."

I took the tablet. My mother taught me the pack's digital archive system inside and out. I knew the backend of this software.

There was a loophole. If the 'Alpha Consent' field was pre-authorized, the dissolution became effective immediately upon the Omega's signature, bypassing the waiting period.

Garrison hadn't signed it yet, wanting to hold it over me. But his digital key was cached on this tablet. Sarah used it for everything.

"Screen's frozen," I lied.

Sarah leaned over. "Give it here."

She tapped the screen aggressively. In her haste to refresh the page, she hit the 'Auto-Fill Alpha Credentials' prompt that popped up.

A green checkmark appeared next to Garrison's name.

He had just technically consented to a no-contest divorce.

"There," she shoved the tablet back. "Sign it."

I pressed my thumb down. Document Executed. A phantom weight lifted off my chest. Legally, I was free.

"Done," I whispered.

"Good." Sarah snatched the tablet. "Go home, Janette."

I didn't go home. I went to my mother's cottage.

I dug into the dirt with bare hands, hunting for roots. Nightshade. Foxglove. And the purple mushroom that stops a heart just long enough to fool a doctor.

My mother taught me to heal. But she also taught me that the only difference between medicine and poison is the dose.

I returned to the mansion late. I walked into the master bedroom and stopped dead.

Keyla was spinning in front of the mirror, wearing my ceremonial Luna robe.

Garrison sat on the bed, watching her with hungry eyes.

"It fits you much better than it ever fit her," he said.

Keyla giggled. "Smells a bit like wet dog, though."

I gasped. They turned.

"Oh, Janette," Keyla smirked. "Sneaking around like a rat."

"What are you doing here?" Garrison demanded.

"This is my room. That is my robe."

"Not anymore," Garrison said coldly. "Keyla is moving into the master suite. Her apartment is being... renovated."

A lie.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"The guest room down the hall. The small one." The servant's quarters.

Keyla rested her head on his shoulder. "And Janette? I have a list. My laundry needs hand-washing. The silk is delicate."

"You want me to be your maid?"

"You need to contribute," Garrison said, eyes dead. "Since you can't shift, can't hunt, and can't give me strong pups... you can serve those who do."

The insult hit like a physical blow. My inner wolf went silent. Not in fear, but in ambush.

"Fine," I said.

I walked to the windowless room, sat on the cot, and pulled the poisonous roots from my pocket.

This wasn't a home. It was a cage. And I was going to burn it down.

Janette POV:

The 'Pack Unity' party was just an excuse to parade Keyla around.

I was in a grey maid's uniform, holding a tray of champagne.

"Oops!"

Tiffany, Keyla's lackey, stuck her foot out.

I crashed. Glass shattered. Laughter erupted.

"Clumsy," Tiffany sneered.

Keyla saw her moment. She dropped her plate and stumbled back, clutching her stomach.

"Ah! She pushed me! Janette pushed me!" Keyla sobbed, collapsing into Garrison's arms. "I... I think I'm pregnant! She tried to hurt the baby!"

The crowd gasped. Pregnant? The betrayal twisted like a knife. But I smelled the lie. No second heartbeat. Just the scent of deceit.

"I didn't touch her," I said, blood dripping from my palms.

"Liar!" Tiffany shouted.

Garrison turned to me, eyes flashing red. "You dare?"

He hauled me up and shoved me back. I crashed into a table, smashing an antique vase.

"That was my mother's!" Garrison roared. "You destroy everything!"

"Smell her, Garrison! She's lying!"

"Silence!"

The Command clamped my jaw shut. I tasted copper.

"You are a danger to my heir. To the isolation room."

He dragged me to the basement. Not a cell. The silver room.

The air shimmered with silver filings.

He threw me in. "Maybe a night in the silver will purify that rot in your soul."

The door slammed.

I fell, coughing. The dust settled on my skin like fire ants. Every breath was razor blades.

I curled up, covering my face. My wolf howled in agony.

Hours later, the door opened.

Garrison stood there, fresh suit, looking annoyed.

"Get up. Tonight is the memorial fundraiser for your mother."

I froze.

"The Dixon family is sponsoring it," he said. Keyla's family. "You will attend. And you will publicly thank Keyla for her generosity."

He wanted me to thank my mother's murderer.

"Why?" I croaked.

"Unity," he said. "And because if you don't... you stay in here forever."

I pulled myself up.

My hatred solidified into something cold and hard.

"I'll go," I whispered.

"Good. Clean yourself up. You look like a mess."

As I limped to the showers, I made a promise: That was the last order he would ever give me.

Janette POV:

The next morning, the sun was brutal.

"Dig here," Keyla commanded, pointing to the hard earth.

She sipped iced tea while a camera crew filmed.

"Garrison thought it would be beautiful," she said loudly, "for you to plant a memorial garden with your own hands. Penance."

The plants were Aconitum Lycoctonum. Decorative Wolfsbane. Toxic to the touch.

They gave me no gloves.

I knelt, digging. But under the Wolfsbane, I buried the seeds from my mother's stash. Moon-Eater Vines. They strangle everything and release pollen that kills a wolf's sense of smell.

Grow, I thought. Choke this place.

"Smile, Janette!" Keyla chirped.

My hands were red and swollen by the time they finished.

"Finally," Keyla huffed. "Garrison is taking me to the spa." She kicked dirt onto my leg. "Missed a spot."

Once they left, I checked the pack's social feed. A photo of them in the limo: Building a future together. caption.

I felt a strange calm.

I went to the master bathroom and flushed my wedding ring down the toilet.

Goodbye, Silver Moon.

Then, I went to Garrison's greenhouse.

His sanctuary. Rare orchids.

I locked the door and destroyed everything. I smashed pots, ripped blooms, crushed his prize-winning Ghost Orchid.

Then, I reached out with my mind. Not to the pack link, but to a forbidden, static frequency.

Alex?

I'm here, Little Wolf, a deep voice answered. Like smoke and gravel.

It's time. The yacht party.

We'll be in the water. Don't miss.

I cut the link just as I heard Garrison roar.

"JANETTE!"

He stormed into the kitchen where I was calmly chopping carrots.

"You destroyed them!"

"I've been here for an hour," I said flatly.

"I smell you on them!" He threw the knife across the room.

"You smell the Wolfsbane Keyla made me plant. It's all over me."

He stared, chest heaving. Then he paused. A look of confusion crossed his face. He sniffed the air.

He was smelling the absence of the bond. The resignation.

"Go get dressed," he whispered, rubbing his chest. "Wear the blue dress. We're leaving."

He had no idea the pain in his chest was just the warmup.