---- Chapter 22 Damien POV: | drove back to the house, the Alpha house that now felt like a tomb. My first instinct was to tear it apart, to destroy every reminder of Lyra and my own stupidity. But a cold, calculating part of my brain took over. | needed money. A lot of it. A tribute. An offering to the king whose daughter | had discarded. | started making calls, liquidating my remaining assets, selling off the remnants of the pack | had built and destroyed. The pack was the heart of an Alpha's existence, a web of loyalty and strength. Mine was now just a collection of assets on a balance sheet. | didn't see Lyra. | assumed she was in her room, giving me the space she'd so generously offered It was hours later, when the Omega nanny timidly knocked on my office door, that | realized how wrong | was. "Alpha," she whispered, her eyes wide with fear. The pup in her arms was whimpering. "The Luna... she's gone. She packed a bag this morning and left. She hasn't been back all day." | stared at her, uncomprehending. Then | looked at the child. Lyra had abandoned her own pup. ---- A cold fury, different from any rage | had ever felt, began to build in my chest. | stormed through the house. Her closet was half-empty. Her perfume, that cheap, cloying scent that had once seemed exotic, was gone. Then | saw it, lying on the floor by the trash can. A business card. "The Rogue's Den," it read, with an address in the city's most dangerous, lawless district. Rogues. The packless. Wolves cast out for the worst crimes -betrayal, murder, unforgivable weakness. They were scavengers, living on the fringes of our world and human society. | didn't even say goodbye to the nanny. | just got in my car and drove. The Rogue's Den was a pit. The air was thick with the stench of unwashed bodies, cheap booze, and desperation. Rogues eyed me with suspicion as | walked in. My Alpha scent, even diminished as it was, marked me as an outsider, a threat. | ignored them, my senses on high alert, searching for her. | heard her before | saw her. Her shrill, artificial laugh echoed from a private booth in the back. | moved closer, staying in the shadows. | heard a male voice, slurring with drink. "So you really milked that Bloodstone Alpha for all he was worth, huh, Lyra?" "He was a fool," Lyra's voice replied, dripping with contempt. ---- "So obsessed with his 'rejected princess' he couldn't see what was right in front of him. A complete waste of my time. Now he's broke." My fists clenched so hard my knuckles turned white. Another rogue laughed. "Still, you played him perfectly. Making him think that pup belonged to his dead warrior. Genius! You don't even know who the father is, do you?" The world went silent. The music, the chatter, the clinking of glasses-it all faded away. The only thing | could hear was the blood roaring in my ears. The child. The innocent pup | had pitied. The reason | had hurt Elara, betrayed her, rejected her. "Does it matter?" Lyra scoffed, her voice laced with cruel amusement. "He bought it. All | had to do was cry a little and he was eating out of my hand. He was so desperate to prove he was a 'good Alpha' that he'd believe anything." It was all a lie. The entire foundation of my catastrophic mistake was a fabrication spun by this venomous creature. "He's nothing now," Lyra continued, her voice moving closer to the booth's entrance. "But don't you worry. I've already got my hooks in another one. Alpha Marcus of the Crimson Fang Pack. Now there's a real Alpha, with real money." | saw her then, draped over another man, her lips puckered for a kiss. The last thread of my control snapped. 1