Third Person's POV Wren hurried forward the moment Aysel finally stopped flinging drinks. Her hands shook slightly as she offered a soft handkerchief to the Moonvale she-wolf, head bowed in instinctive submission. Then she turned, face hardening as she stared down at Aaron-still pinned to the polished stone floor by two burly security enforcers from Mistyhowl Mountain Lodge, both in half-shift with claws slightly extended. "Mr. Aaron," Wren said, each word clipped with alpha-respect for the true power behind Aysel, "let me clarify something. Our Lord Magnus is certainly not an old man. And Miss Aysel is his future, rightful Luna. This lodge is currently in the middle of ownership transfer. Miss Aysel is the legitimate incoming proprietor. You would do well to mind your tongue." Guest versus future Luna. There was no comparison. Mistyhowl Mountain Lodge had always been Magnus Sanchez's private territory-Shadowbane Alpha lands, secured with ancient lupine wards and mountain-circle protection. This region's cooling winds and mist-charged springs made it a coveted summer retreat for many packs. When the lodge was first built, a private scenic villa was constructed solely for Magnus, carved into the cliffside like a wolf king's throne. After receiving the invitation to tonight's gathering, Magnus had immediately decided something: He would transfer the entire lodge to Aysel. Technically, what belonged to him would become hers after they married-Shadowbane law made that clear. But for a young she-wolf, personal pre-marriage assets provided stronger protection than shared marital territory. He had already begun transferring multiple properties with prime territories, beautiful landscapes, and strong protections into her name. Mistyhowl was merely the most famous among them. The paperwork wasn't finished yet, but all upper-management staff-including Wren-had already been notified. Even if Aysel never married Magnus, she would still be their incoming Alpha-level proprietor. Her command topped every guest's. Pinned to the ground, Aaron jerked his head up, dirt and spilled wine streaking his cheek. "M-Magnus...? Which Magnus are you talking about?"Before Wren could answer, Emma-one of Aysel's classmates-snorted. "Which Magnus do you think?" she said. "Of course it's Magnus Sanchez. Aaron, when you came back to the continent, did no one tell you who your actual predator is?" Aaron froze. Pupils contracted sharply. He stared at Aysel like he was seeing a ghost wolf wearing young skin. Impossible. Absolutely impossible. Aysel, meanwhile, was calmly speaking to Wren, ignoring him entirely. "If the lodge no longer wishes to host a client," she asked, "what's the standard protocol?" Wren straightened instantly, answering with pack-professional precision. "Compensation according to contract." Lodges seldom breached agreements; the issue wasn't the penalty-it was the reputation. But this particular guest had offended their future Luna. Wren quickly calculated the cost. "Miss Aysel, don't worry. I'll have him escorted out immediately." She turned toward the struggling Aaron, still pinned like a disgraced omega. "Mr. Aaron," she said, voice cool, "your penalty fee will be paid at once." Then she looked around the gathering hall. "However, your entire guest list must also vacate the premises. You may want to move quickly." Humiliation. Unmatched humiliation. Not only was he being thrown out-every guest he invited was being thrown out with him. In one night, Aaron managed to experience every form of social death imaginable. The classmates at the gathering exchanged looks. Some were shocked. Some delighted.Many had wanted to try Mistyhowl Lodge for years but could never book a room-it was always full or reserved for elite alphas. Tonight's drama exploded in real time across group chats; messages were hitting 99+ every minute. Then Aysel spoke. "No need to send the guests away," she said lightly. "The gathering continues. The host simply changes." Her gaze dropped to Aaron with a small, mocking smile. "As for the penalty... Aaron, how does ten times sound?" How did it sound? It didn't matter. The Sanchez family and the lodge's owner wouldn't care about a sum so small-it was pocket change to them. Aysel was simply using his own earlier words to slap him across the face. Aaron couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Could barely think. From the moment he learned of her tie to Magnus Sanchez, he had been spiritually half-dead. Now he was a carcass awaiting burial. Wren recovered first, years of corporate instinct kicking in. "Understood, Miss Aysel. We will take over the event immediately. Everything proceeds as usual. Additionally, Lord Magnus prepared a selection of rare spirits for your classmates." A tray of obscenely expensive, collectors-level wines appeared as if from the air. The speed made it clear: They had never intended to remove the guests. Only Aaron. Wren continued with a bright professional smile. "To calm everyone after the disturbance, the lodge will upgrade tonight's menu and open several private internal scenic areas. We hope you enjoy your evening." Thoughtful. Efficient.Impossible to refuse. Seeing that Aysel approved, the classmates completely ignored the original event host-still prone on the floor-and swarmed Aysel with gratitude. "Thanks to you tonight, Aysel! I've never seen wine like this." A male classmate stared at a red bottle, awestruck. "Right? I've always wanted to experience Mistyhowl Mountain Lodge. I've been on the waiting list for months! Who knew the new owner would be one of us?" "Aysel! Come sit with us! Do you like cards?" Just like that, the atmosphere soared-joyful, lively, and entirely centered on the young Moonvale she-wolf whose presence bent the entire lodge around her. And behind it all lay the unmistakable truth: Aysel Vale was no longer just a classmate. She was the future Luna of the continent's strongest Alpha-and every wolf in the room could feel the shift in the air, the dominance, the scent of power circling her like moonlit mist.