Chapter 1

Elyse POV

The Blackmoon Pack's Ancestral Grounds had turned into a muddy swamp. I stood entirely alone, the icy, gray downpour soaking through my black mourning dress, chilling me to the bone.

A few yards away, beneath the massive black canopy reserved for the Pack's inner circle, stood my husband. Jace Blackmoon, the newly ascended Alpha, wasn't looking at the mahogany coffin of his late brother, Harrison. Instead, his massive arms were wrapped tightly around Harrison's widow, Ciera Page. The delicate Omega was sobbing into his chest, and Jace was murmuring to her, his face buried in her hair in an intimately protective gesture meant only for mates.

Because I was pretending to be wolfless, I kept my Inner Wolf buried deep. I refused to tap into the Pack's Mind-Link. But I didn't need to hear their voices to know what they were saying. The synchronized sneers and mocking side-eyes from the warriors holding black umbrellas told me everything. They were laughing at their Luna-a useless, wolfless ghost who couldn't even hold her Alpha's gaze at a funeral.

When the ceremony finally ended, Jace didn't walk over to me. He simply caught my eye through the rain and jerked his chin toward the armored SUV, a dismissive gesture one might use to summon a stray hound.

The ride back to the Pack House was suffocating. The heavy thud of the windshield wipers against the bulletproof glass of the Cadillac Escalade only amplified the tension. Jace sat in the middle row, Ciera pressed against his side. The air was thick with his sharp cedar scent and her cloying vanilla.

I stared at the rain-slicked window. "We need to discuss the terms of the Rejection."

The words hung in the air. Jace froze, his hand still resting on Ciera's shoulder. Then, a harsh, booming laugh erupted from his chest.

"Are you out of your mind, Elyse?" Jace sneered, his dark eyes flashing with arrogant disbelief. "A wolfless runt like you? You wouldn't last a single day outside my territory. The Rogues would tear you to shreds before nightfall."

I didn't argue. I just looked at him, my expression entirely blank. Let him believe I was nothing but a helpless parasite clinging to the Blackmoon wealth. He had no idea who I really was. He didn't know about Dr. Elyse West, or that my "Moonlight Goddess Healing" biomedical project was on the verge of a breakthrough that would upend the entire werewolf hierarchy. I didn't need him. I never did.

Dismissing me completely, Jace turned his back and pulled a trembling Ciera closer, whispering reassurances to her.

By the time Sergei pulled the SUV up to the gothic stone steps of the Blackmoon Pack House, my mind was already miles away. The heavy oak doors swung open, and Ciera's young son, Leo, rushed out onto the porch.

"Dad!" the boy cried out.

Jace didn't correct him. He didn't even flinch. He simply scooped the boy up into his arms, a proud smile on his face.

Martha, the Pack's head Omega, stood in the foyer with a line of servants, her eyes darting nervously between me and the boy in my husband's arms.

"Martha," Jace ordered, his voice echoing off the marble floors. "Prepare the East Wing master guest suite for Ciera and Leo."

A collective gasp rippled through the servants. The East Wing was adjacent to the Alpha's quarters. It was the traditional territory of the Luna.

"But Alpha," Martha stammered, bowing her head. "That area is-"

"Do it," Jace growled. The air in the room suddenly grew heavy, vibrating with the crushing weight of the Alpha's Command. Even without a wolf, I could feel the oppressive pressure of his authority forcing the servants to bare their necks in submission. Jace shot an irritated glance in my direction. "She stays in the West Wing anyway. It won't bother her."

He had just stripped away the last shred of my dignity in front of the entire household.

I looked at the man I had been tied to for three miserable years. The final, frayed thread of my obligation to this political marriage quietly snapped. I felt no anger, only a chilling, absolute clarity.

Without a single word, I turned my back on them and walked toward the dim, empty corridor of the West Wing, my mind already calculating the fastest route to my lawyer's office in the city tomorrow morning.