Alessandra POV

I had barely taken a single step toward the heavy oak door when a shriek, sharp and guttural like a dying vulture, shattered the suffocating silence of the suite.

"You will not walk away from your duty!"

Nonna Maria lunged from her chair with a speed that belied her withered frame. She snatched the heavy leather ledger and the iron ring of keys from the mahogany table, her claw-like hands trembling violently. She shoved them toward my chest, trying to force the burden back onto me. The stale stench of her medicinal herbs instantly soured, turning rancid with sheer, unadulterated panic.

I didn't flinch. I simply took a calm, deliberate step backward.

With nothing to support them, the heavy ledger and the keys slipped from her frail grip. They hit the polished marble floor with a deafening *crash* that echoed through the room like a gavel striking wood.

"I wonder," I began, my voice dropping to a whisper so cold it seemed to freeze the very air in the room. "If Damien Blackwood heard that the Stone Pack not only broke a Blood Oath to a dying White Wolf, but also squandered her entire inheritance... do you think The Wraith would find it an amusing piece of gossip? Or a stain that needs to be erased?"

The name hit the room like a physical shockwave.

Nonna Maria froze entirely. The blood drained from her wrinkled face, leaving it a sickly, ashen gray. The sheer, primal terror of the Lycan—a predator so far above an Alpha that he was practically a god of death—gripped her throat. She stood there, shaking uncontrollably, her mouth opening and closing without a single sound. Beside her, Cecelia looked utterly terrified, her artificial rose scent souring as she realized the lethal political game she had just been dragged into.

"You're just a wolfless waste!"

The shrill voice broke the tension. Kandi leaped up from her antique armchair, her face twisted in an ugly sneer. Her cheap strawberry hard candy scent spiked, turning acrid and bitter with jealousy.

"You think you can threaten us?" Kandi spat, marching toward me. "You smell like human money and dirt! You know nothing about Pack honor. Cecelia's father is a judge. That's real power! Angelo is going to throw you out like the trash you are!"

I looked at Kandi, taking in her flushed face and the arrogant tilt of her chin. A dark, unsettling smile curved my lips. My dormant White Wolf blood hummed beneath my skin, steady and absolute.

"Human money and dirt," I repeated softly, my eyes trailing over her outfit. "That's an interesting perspective, Kandi. Especially considering that the Parisian silk dress you are wearing, and the two-carat diamond studs in your ears, were purchased last Tuesday using the Silvermoon trust fund."

Kandi’s sneer faltered. She blinked, her hands instinctively flying to her ears.

"Take them off," I commanded. My voice wasn't a scream; it was a quiet, absolute decree that left no room for defiance.

"W-what?" Kandi stammered, her bravado crumbling.

"Take them off. Now, Kandi," I said, my gaze pinning her to the spot like a specimen on a board. "And then go beg your 'honored' new Luna for something to cover yourself."

Total silence descended upon the room. Kandi’s face flushed a deep, mottled purple. She trembled from head to toe, completely paralyzed by the sheer magnitude of the humiliation. She looked toward her brothers for help, but Geno and Boone were staring at me with wide, wary eyes, their inner wolves instinctively submitting to the sudden, overwhelming dominance radiating from a supposedly wolfless woman.

And Angelo? He just stood there, his jaw tight, watching me with a blank, unreadable expression. His scent was a confused mess of anger and misplaced arrogance. He actually thought this was a performance—a desperate, dramatic plea for his attention.

He had no idea that this wasn't a tantrum. It was an execution.

I didn't wait for Kandi to strip. I had already stripped them of the only thing that mattered: their false superiority. Without another word, I turned my back on the pathetic remnants of the Stone family and walked out the door.

Alessandra POV

I walked out of the Elder's suite with measured steps. The heavy oak door clicked shut behind me, but it couldn't block out the chaotic scents of the women inside. Nonna Maria’s stale medicinal herbs soured with rage, while Kandi’s cheap strawberry hard candy reeked of bitter jealousy.

I could picture them glaring at the wood, their inner wolves growling in confusion. Their foolish minds had already misjudged my absolute resolve as the hysterics of a discarded Luna. They thought a wolfless woman leaving her Alpha's protection was like a fish leaving water. They were waiting for me to hit a dead end and crawl back, begging for scraps.

Let them wait. Their arrogance would only make their inevitable fall that much more devastating.

I returned to the Luna's suite, my sanctuary. The air here still belonged to me, crisp with winter frost and night-blooming jasmine. Cressie followed close behind, her usual comforting chamomile scent spiked with sheer terror. She was trembling, terrified of what Angelo would do once he realized the extent of my defiance.

"Andra, he's going to kill us," she whispered, wringing her hands. "You humiliated the Elder. You took the money."

I walked calmly to my vanity and opened the velvet jewelry box. Pressing a hidden latch, I revealed the secret compartment beneath. "He won't get the chance."

I pulled out an ancient, faintly glowing moonstone carved with the Silvermoon crest. It wasn't just a jewel; it was forged with the blood of my White Wolf mother, Sofia Vance.

"What is that?" Cressie breathed, her eyes wide.

"The true Blood Oath token," I murmured, the cold stone heavy in my palm. "Alpha King Antonio Blackwood owes the Silvermoon bloodline a life. But I am not going to an aging King for a lengthy arbitration."

Cressie swallowed hard. "Then who?"

"His nephew. The Wraith."

Cressie gasped, stumbling back a step. *Damien Blackwood.* The name alone carried the weight of a death sentence. I needed absolute, terrifying protection—the kind that would make Angelo choke on his own breath.

A bitter pang tightened my chest. My mother had traded her life for this ultimate safeguard, meant to restore our family's glory. Using it to scrape off a parasite like Angelo felt like a profound humiliation, but it was the only way to ensure my siblings, Leo and Clara, survived the fallout.

Before Cressie could process the magnitude of my plan, a deafening crash shattered the quiet of the suite.

The heavy oak door was kicked open with such brutal force that the wood splintered, sending a shower of dust and debris into the air. Spiderweb cracks shot up the plaster frame.

Angelo stormed into the room like a rabid beast. His handsome face was twisted into an ugly, feral snarl, and his mundane scent of musk and sweat flooded the space, thick and aggressively suffocating. He was trying to drown out my winter frost, trying to force the room—and me—into submission.

"Alessandra!" he roared, his chest heaving.

Cressie let out a terrified shriek. Driven by pure, blind loyalty, my human maid threw her arms wide and stepped in front of me, her small frame shaking violently against the crushing weight of an Alpha's aura.

I didn't retreat. I didn't cower.

I reached out, gently but firmly gripping Cressie’s shoulder, and pulled her behind me. I stepped forward, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. My eyes were dead, glacial voids staring straight into the inferno of his wounded pride.

Alessandra POV

The dust from the splintered oak door danced in the harsh light of the hallway, settling over the plush carpet of the Luna's Suite like ash. Angelo stood amidst the wreckage, his chest heaving. His scent—a suffocating wave of aggressive musk and sweat—crashed into the room, desperately trying to devour my calming aura of winter frost and night-blooming jasmine.

Behind me, Cressie let out a muffled sob, her fingers digging into the back of my sweater. I kept my posture rigid, shielding her frail human frame from the monster I was once bound to.

"You think you can play games with me, Andra?" Angelo snarled, stepping over a jagged piece of wood. His eyes flashed with the golden hue of his inner wolf, furious and unhinged. "You think you can cripple my Pack with human ledgers and petty threats?"

I stared at him, feeling absolutely nothing. The mate-bond, once a tether of warmth, was now just a rotting corpse between us.

"I am the Alpha," he continued, his voice dripping with a sickening blend of authority and condescension. "Cecelia is staying. That is final. But because I am merciful, I will allow you to remain. You will manage the Pack's finances quietly, from the shadows, where a wolfless belongs. You will do your duty to the Stone Pack."

He actually believed it. He believed he could parade his pregnant mistress in front of the Pack, strip me of my dignity, and still keep my wealth chained to his vanity.

"No," I said. The single syllable cut through his suffocating pheromones like a silver blade.

Angelo blinked, his jaw tightening. "Excuse me?"

I took a deliberate step forward, forcing him to look down at me. "I don't want your mercy, Angelo. And I certainly don't want you. I demand a Rejection."

For a second, the room was dead silent. Then, Angelo threw his head back and barked out a harsh, mocking laugh. The sound grated against my ears, devoid of any real humor.

"A Rejection?" he sneered, looking at me as if I were a delusional child. "You? A defective, wolfless burden demanding a Rejection from an Alpha? You have no wolf, Andra. You have no leverage. Without my protection, you'd be nothing but a plaything for the Rogues in the wild."

My hand slipped into my pocket, my fingers wrapping around the freezing, heavy surface of the Moonstone.

"You talk of leverage," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly, quiet register that made his laughter abruptly die in his throat. "You forget the Blood Oath."

Angelo froze. The golden hue in his eyes flickered, replaced by a sudden, stark human panic.

"A sacred vow," I continued, stepping closer, letting the ice in my veins radiate outward. "Sworn before the Moon Goddess by Alpha King Antonio Blackwood himself, to my mother—a White Wolf. A debt of life that supersedes your pathetic Pack Law."

"You're bluffing," he breathed, but his scent betrayed him. The aggressive musk suddenly soured, tainted with the sharp, bitter stench of pure terror. His inner wolf was cowering, sensing the ancient, divine weight of the words I invoked.

"Try me," I whispered. "Keep pushing, and I will take this token directly to the Royal Court. I will let the Alpha King see exactly what kind of man leads the Stone Pack. You demand loyalty, yet you break sacred vows. You're not an Alpha, Angelo. You're just a Rogue in Alpha's clothing."

The word *Rogue* hit him like a physical blow. His face paled, the muscles in his neck straining as he fought a losing battle against the crushing weight of my defiance. I had stripped him bare, exposing the fragile, honorless boy hiding behind an Alpha's title.

But a coward cornered will always bare his teeth.

Desperate to salvage his shattered ego, Angelo forced a cruel, trembling smirk onto his face. "The Alpha King won't listen to the whining of a defective," he spat, though his voice lacked its previous thunder. "You are staying here, Andra. You will accept Cecelia, or I will personally drag you to the borders and throw you to the wolves."

He didn't wait for my response. He spun on his heel and stormed out of the ruined doorway, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall as he fled the room. He needed to believe he had won. He needed to believe his empire was still intact.

I slowly released my grip on the Moonstone, listening to his retreating steps.