The Wedding's Still On. You're Still Not Invited.

“Your father arranged a blood pact marriage for you years ago, before your first shift. Now that your health’s stabilized... will you go through with it?” My mother’s voice whispered through the phone.

“Yes,” I said, flat and cold. “Tell Father to prepare the binding papers. And make sure the ritual isn’t tacky.”

Today was supposed to be Nina’s turning—the full moon celebration where she’d shift for the first time. One perfect weekend on Alpha Damon Blacwell’s private territory.

Instead, I watched her kiss him.

Damon Blackwell, my mate. The alpha of the Blackwell Pack I nearly died for.

Malric Blackwell, his brother, his beta—the same one who used to train with me at dawn and call me "little warrior"—tossed her a towel like this wasn’t betrayal dressed in silk and gold.

Nina Frost. My best friend. My tether to childhood, to innocence. Now she was tasting frosting from my mate, Damon.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t shift—not yet.

I descended the spiral staircase to the lower deck and called my mother.

Because if I wanted vengeance, I’d need more than anger.

I’d need power.

I would not tear them down with rage.

I would burn them with grace.