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.

Angelo POV

I left the splintered remains of the Luna's Suite behind, my heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor. My chest was still heaving, my scent—a thick, aggressive cloud of musk and sweat—dominating the hallway, suffocating the lingering traces of Alessandra's winter frost.

My inner wolf was pacing furiously in my mind, snapping its jaws. *She called us a Rogue,* the beast snarled, its pride deeply wounded by the wolfless girl's defiance.

*Quiet,* I commanded it, forcing a smirk onto my face.

Alessandra was bluffing. She had to be. A defective, wolfless burden demanding a Rejection? Threatening an Alpha with a Blood Oath? It was laughable. She was throwing a tantrum because I was replacing her. Without the protection of the Stone Pack, she would be torn apart by the first Rogue that caught her scent. She knew it, and I knew it. I had put her in her place. She would stay in the shadows, manage the ledgers, and fund my empire just as she was meant to.

Feeling the intoxicating rush of a victor, I strode toward the Elder Wing. It was time to solidify my real future.

I pushed open the heavy mahogany doors to Nonna Maria's suite. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the oppressive, stale scent of dried herbs and mothballs. My grandmother sat in her high-backed armchair near the unlit fireplace, her frail hands resting on her lap.

I walked straight to the antique liquor cabinet, pouring myself a generous measure of amber bourbon into a heavy crystal glass.

"It's handled," I announced, taking a satisfying sip. The liquid burned pleasantly down my throat. "Andra threw her little fit, but she knows where she stands. She'll fall in line."

Nonna Maria didn't say a word. She just stared at the cold hearth.

"Now, we move forward," I continued, turning to face her, my chest swelling with Alpha pride. "I want the Luna Ceremony for Cecelia planned immediately. Book the grandest estate in the valley. Hire the most renowned Pack bards. I want a feast that will make the Alpha King himself envious."

I took another sip, already picturing the absolute power I would wield. "I want every Pack in North America to see the new strength of the Stone Pack. Spare no expense. Pull it directly from the Pack's public accounts. Alessandra's Moonstone trust will cover it ten times over."

I waited for her nod of approval, for the proud smile she always gave me when I asserted my dominance.

Instead, Nonna Maria's heartbeat—usually a steady, ancient rhythm—suddenly spiked into a frantic, erratic flutter. The scent of mothballs in the room was instantly overpowered by the acrid, sour stench of pure, unadulterated terror. The color drained from her wrinkled face, leaving her looking like a corpse. Her hands began to tremble violently against her lap.

My smirk vanished. My inner wolf pricked its ears, sensing the sudden shift in the room's atmosphere.

"What is it?" I snapped, my Alpha aura flaring slightly in annoyance. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet about the human. Cecelia's father is a judge; the political leverage alone is worth the ceremony."

"Angelo..." her voice was a frail, breathless whisper, barely audible over the sound of her racing heart.

"Speak, Nonna," I demanded, stepping closer.

She looked up at me, her cloudy eyes wide with a panic I had never seen in her before. "The trust... the Moonstone trust..."

"What about it?" I growled, my patience wearing thin. "Just authorize the transfer."

"It's locked, Angelo," she choked out, a tear spilling over her pale cheek. "It's completely locked. Alessandra is the only signatory. We can't touch a single dime of it without her blood signature."

I froze. The bourbon suddenly tasted like ash in my mouth. "Then we use the Pack's reserves until I force her to sign it over. How much is in the public account?"

Nonna Maria let out a pathetic, broken sob. She shrank back into her chair, terrified of the Alpha standing before her.

"The public accounts..." She swallowed hard, her voice cracking. "There is only three thousand dollars left."

The heavy crystal glass slipped from my numb fingers.

It hit the marble floor, shattering into a hundred glittering pieces.