Chapter 6

Elara POV

I hadn't stayed to hear the rest of my father's sickening declaration yesterday. The moment the words "new marriage" left his lips, I had turned and fled the manor, the heavy oak doors slamming shut on my shattered family ties.

Now, the next morning, the bell above the door of the *Ground & Pound* coffee shop chimed, offering a desperate illusion of normalcy. The rich scent of roasted espresso beans usually calmed my frayed nerves. It was my human sanctuary, far away from the suffocating pack hierarchy.

But as I tied my apron, my boss, Benny, grabbed my arm. His tattooed forearm was trembling.

"Elara, I'm so sorry," he whispered, pulling me into the back room. He looked terrified, his eyes darting toward the front windows. "You're fired. You have to leave. Right now."

I stared at him, stunned. "Benny, what? Did I do something wrong?"

"Your mother called," he confessed, his voice cracking. "Caroline Sanford. She... she said if I didn't terminate your employment immediately, she'd send her Warriors to ensure my shop never opened its doors again. I have a family, Elara. I can't fight a werewolf pack."

A cold, heavy stone dropped in my stomach. I didn't blame Benny. He was just a human trying to survive on the edge of pack territory. I untied my apron, handing it to him with a stiff nod.

As I walked out into the freezing morning air, my sadness rapidly calcified into a burning, white-hot rage. Caroline thought she was cutting off my only lifeline. She thought stripping away my minimum-wage barista job would force me to crawl back to the manor on my knees.

She didn't know that making lattes was just a cover to explain how I paid my rent. She didn't know about my late-night jewelry designs, or the secret commissions I sold to human boutiques under a pseudonym. She thought I was a helpless, wolfless Omega.

She was about to find out how wrong she was.

I marched straight back to the Sanford Pack Manor, the gravel crunching violently under my boots. I threw open the heavy front doors and stormed toward the drawing room, ready to scream until my throat bled.

I burst through the doors. "You have no right to threaten innocent humans-"

The words died in my throat.

My parents weren't alone. Sitting in the velvet armchair opposite my father was a man I didn't recognize. He was in his late fifties, his hair thinning, dressed in an expensive, overly tailored suit.

But it was his scent that made my stomach violently heave. It was a heavy, suffocating Alpha aura that smelled of stale leather and cloying, sweet cigars. It lacked the terrifying, magnetic purity of the cedar and storm scent that still haunted my memories from two nights ago. This scent was just oppressive and greasy.

"Ah, the prodigal daughter returns," Caroline said smoothly, her eyes flashing with a wicked, triumphant gleam. "Elara, mind your manners. This is Alpha Leonard Shaw of the Alcott Pack."

Leonard stood up, his eyes raking over my body with the slow, calculating assessment of a man inspecting livestock at an auction. He didn't look at my face; his gaze lingered on my hips and chest.

"A bit small," Leonard noted, his voice a raspy drawl that made my skin crawl. "But the Sanford bloodline is pure. She'll make a fine breeding vessel. My pack needs fresh pups, and a submissive, wolfless Omega won't cause any political headaches."

He stepped forward, holding out a thick, ring-covered hand for me to take.

I stared at his hand, then looked up into his leering eyes. I didn't mask my absolute disgust. I took a deliberate step backward, refusing to touch him.

Leonard's smile faltered, a flash of Alpha annoyance crossing his face. But he quickly masked it with a patronizing chuckle. "Spirited. I can train that out of her. I look forward to finalizing the paperwork, Franklin."

Without another glance at me, Leonard Shaw walked out of the drawing room, leaving behind a suffocating cloud of cigar smoke.

The heavy doors clicked shut. The silence in the room was deafening.

I turned to my parents, my whole body trembling with a mixture of horror and fury. "What the hell was that?"

Caroline stepped forward, her posture rigid and victorious. "That, Elara, is the new marriage your father mentioned. You cost us the Morrison alliance. Now, you will marry Alpha Shaw."

I looked at my father, the Beta of this pack, who sat silently in his chair, refusing to meet my eyes. In their eyes, I wasn't a daughter. I was a broken asset, being liquidated to the highest bidder.