---- Chapter 9 Elara POV: The Bloodstone Group headquarters was a monument to Damien's ambition, a skyscraper of glass and steel that pierced the city skyline. And | had helped him build it. | walked through the lobby, the Omega secretary at the front desk dipping her head respectfully. Every trade deal, every lucrative partnership, every secret resource that had transformed his fledgling pack into a corporate powerhouse had been funneled through me. My family, the Silver Moon Pack, had provided the capital, the connections, the ancient knowledge. | did it all to see him succeed, to make him feel powerful, to soothe the insecurity he felt about his pack's humble origins. All for a man who was now casting me aside like trash. | had already set the wheels in motion. I'd sent a message to the Silver Moon Elders, a list of every asset, every trade route, every technological secret we had gifted the Bloodstone Pack. My instructions were simple: the moment | was safely across the border, they were to terminate every single agreement. | walked through the office, saying my goodbyes to the few pack members | had worked with, the ones who had seen me as more than just the Alpha's quiet mate. ---- "Leaving so soon, Elara?" asked a young warrior from the finance department. "Is the Alpha not with you?" As he spoke, | felt a faint flicker through the public Mind-Link. It was the secretary, her thoughts timid and nervous. "Alpha, forgive the intrusion... but Elara is here. In the office." Damien's mental reply was a blast of cold fury that made even me, his target, recoil. "We are about to have our rejection ceremony. Her business is no longer my concern. Do not report her movements to me again!" He severed the link abruptly. The secretary physically flinched at her desk. My phone buzzed in my pocket. | pulled it out. It was a message from Lyra. It was a photo. Her, Damien, and her pup, sitting on the imposing obsidian throne in the Alpha's great hall. Damien's arm was around her, a possessive, proud gesture. They looked like the king and queen of his little empire. Beneath the photo, a string of text: "Soon, | will be the Luna. | hope the pain of the rejection turns that little bastard in your belly into a pool of blood. It's what you both deserve." ---- My hand trembled, not from fear, but from a rage so pure and cold it burned. | took a deep breath, staring at the photo of the man | once loved. He had made his choice. And now, he would live with the consequences.