Standing at the hospital billing counter, I stared at the sleek black card Kael had given me months ago. Stop the lies, Seraphina. I don't care about your games. You are dead to me. The text he sent two nights ago echoed in my hollow chest, a phantom blade twisting in my heart. Using his money meant accepting his narrative-that our murdered pup was just a trick.

I shoved the card back into my pocket and pulled out a thick envelope of cash, my entire life savings from my days as a Pack secretary. The human clerk's eyes widened in pity as I paid the astronomical bill in full. I was penniless, but I was free. The last chain binding me to Kael Blackwood was severed.

Walking out into the biting wind, the sterile hospital scent faded. I thought of the money, of the Pack House, of Genevieve Blackwood. The Moon Goddess never blesses a traitor's womb. Her venomous whisper before the attack played in my mind. It wasn't just a cruel taunt; it was a confession. Genevieve had orchestrated the Rogue attack. She murdered my baby to keep her precious Alpha bloodline pure. A dark, vicious hatred took root where my grief had been. I swore to the Goddess, I would make her pay.

By nightfall, my exhaustion was bone-deep. I dragged myself to the cheapest motels on the city's edge. The first two claimed they were full the second they saw my ID. At the third, a dingy place smelling of stale smoke, the manager didn't even pretend.

"Mr. Blackwood put the word out," he muttered, avoiding my eyes. "No legitimate business in this city will take you in. We don't want Pack trouble."

I was a wolfless Omega, exiled and now hunted by the very Alpha who was supposed to protect me.

With nowhere to go, I collapsed onto a freezing park bench. My fingers numb, I pulled out my phone and searched my name. The results were a tidal wave of filth. Rogue's whore. Wolfless parasite. Articles and Pack forums accused me of faking a pregnancy to trap the Alpha. My photos were plastered everywhere, drowning in vicious comments. Kael was letting them crucify me. His silence was his endorsement. My heart turned to absolute ice.

A muffled scream shattered the quiet night.

I bolted up, my instincts overriding my exhaustion. The sound came from a dark, trash-littered alley nearby. I crept closer and saw a massive man-reeking of the sour, metallic stench of a Rogue-trying to drag an elegantly dressed elderly woman toward a rusted sedan.

"Hey! Let her go!" I screamed, stepping into the dim streetlight.

The Rogue paused, sniffing the air. A cruel smirk twisted his scarred face as he registered my scent. "A wolfless little bitch. Go away, before I gut you too." He pulled a hunting knife, the blade glinting in the dark.

I had nothing left to lose. As he lunged, underestimating my desperate rage, I grabbed a heavy metal trash can lid. I swung it with every ounce of strength I possessed, smashing it directly into his face. He stumbled back, stunned. I shoved him hard. His head cracked sickeningly against the car door, and he crumpled to the asphalt, out cold.

Panting, I dropped the dented lid and rushed to the trembling woman. "Are you okay? We need to get out of here before he wakes up."

She didn't seem to hear me. Her wide, tear-filled eyes were locked on my face. Slowly, a trembling hand reached up, her soft fingers brushing my cold cheek. The sheer reverence in her gaze made my breath hitch.

"Agnes?" she breathed, her voice breaking with a miraculous, agonizing joy. "My beautiful girl... I knew you were alive."

Chapter 7

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