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.

Janette POV:

The Ritz-Carlton ballroom dripped with gold.

I stood in the shadows in my fraying blue dress. Garrison and Keyla were center stage.

"Item 45. The 'Tears of the Moon' Sapphire Necklace," the auctioneer announced.

"Oh, Garrison! It matches my eyes!" Keyla squealed.

"Seventy thousand!" Sterling shouted. An obese Alpha from a rival pack, known for collecting young Omegas.

Garrison stiffened. "Eighty."

"One hundred," Sterling countered, grinning gold teeth. He waddled over.

"I'll drop the bid, Garrison," Sterling whispered, loud enough for my ears. "And I'll sign that timber deal. But I want her."

He pointed a sausage finger at me.

"Just for tonight. My heat cycle is starting."

My blood ran cold.

Garrison looked at me, then at Keyla, who was pouting over the necklace.

"I can't sell my wife, Sterling," Garrison muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. He looked glassy-eyed. Keyla had been feeding him drinks all night.

"It's just dinner, babe," Keyla whispered in Garrison's ear. "Sterling just wants company. Don't blow the deal."

Garrison blinked, swaying slightly. The drugs Keyla was using to keep him compliant were working.

"Just... just dinner," Garrison slurred. "Bring her back in the morning."

Sterling grinned. "Deal."

The gavel slammed.

I turned to run, but Garrison caught my arm.

"It's for the pack, Janette," he said, his eyes unfocused. "Do your duty."

A waiter appeared. Garrison grabbed a glass and forced it to my lips.

"Drink." The Command hit me.

I swallowed. Fire raced through my veins. Lust Dust.

My knees buckled. Sterling grabbed me.

"Don't worry," Garrison whispered as they dragged me to the elevator. "It'll be over soon."

As the doors closed, watching my husband turn back to his mistress, the last thread of love snapped.

I didn't just want to leave. I wanted him to bleed.

Flashbulbs popped. Blinding white light.

I woke up on a velvet chaise, naked.

"Chin up, sweetheart. Look devastated," Leo, the pack's fixer, said.

I scrambled for a pillow. "Where is Sterling?"

"Gone," Leo said, checking his camera. "He got his timber deal. He didn't touch you. Garrison just needed the leverage."

I froze.

"Leverage?"

"Proof of infidelity," Leo said. "Compromising photos. If you try to go to the Council about the poisoning, these leak. 'Disgraced Luna Seduces Rival Alpha for Cash.'"

Garrison hadn't sold my body. He'd sold my dignity for insurance.

"Get dressed," Leo tossed my dress on the floor.

I stumbled out into the humid night. Thunder rumbled.

Across the street, at the park, Keyla's birthday party was in full swing.

I watched from the shadows. Garrison was on stage, putting the sapphire necklace around Keyla's neck.

"To the woman who brings light to the Silver Moon Pack," he boomed.

They kissed. Passionate. Deep.

I vomited into the gutter.

My phone buzzed. Don't wait up, Garrison's voice echoed in the Mind-Link.

I imagined a pair of shears.

Block.

I slammed a mental wall down. The static silenced.

The rain started. Heavy and cleansing.

I started walking. I wasn't Janette the victim anymore. I was a ghost. And ghosts don't feel pain.