Third Person's POV Ivy could not endure the humiliation. The moment she tried to struggle upright, pain twisted her face, her features warping like a wounded she-wolf baring her fangs. James immediately pushed her back down, murmuring, "All right, all right-don't strain yourself. We won't go. We won't take you to the Healers' Den." Awakened by the argument, Ulric Sanchez echoed the same fierce refusal. With both injured wolves protesting, the family physician had no choice but to stay. Bracing himself, he cleaned the claw marks, dabbed salves that stung like frostbite, and wrapped their bruised limbs. He reminded the pair that within a few days, they must undergo a full-body scan at the healer outpost to ensure no internal organs-or inner wolf-were damaged. When the exhausting treatment finally ended, James fixed both of them with a heavy, dark stare. "Speak. What happened between you two?" Ivy pressed her lips together, stubborn and silent. How could she tell them? How could she admit that after all these years, she had never truly won Ulric Sanchez's heart? That her marriage-secured with claw and pride-had been nothing but a pathetic joke, a hollow bond without the imprint of true mates? Ulric, meanwhile, cast a glance toward the far corner-where Aysel lazily played with Magnus's fingers, braiding them together and smiling up at him without a trace of guilt. A suspicion finally dawned on him. When the lights had flickered back to life earlier and he'd seen the wounds on both his and Ivy's bodies, he had been baffled. Had he really struck that hard? Was his aim with thrown objects ever that precise? Especially the final blow-the one that had toppled his wheelchair. That kind of brute force wasn't Ivy's style at all. Yet the room had no cameras, the power had been out, and the two of them had exchanged blows. With no evidence and several points impossible to explain, he had no choice but to mirror Ivy's strategy-play dead and shut his mouth. Luna Darkmoon, James's wife, grew increasingly irate. Ivy was obsessed with maintaining face-if she would simply cry out, wail, or complain, the Darkmoon Pack could use their status as her birth family to demand compensation from the Shadowbane Pack. But no matter how she hinted, Ivy refused to speak. Eventually even the elder wolf lost patience, crossing her arms and simmering in silence. Ivy glanced at her angry sister-in-law, then at Olivia-who kept stealing glances at Magnus and Aysel's interlaced hands, her own jealous aura leaking through her scent. With a shudder, Ivy closed her eyes. "Leave. All of you. I want to rest." James hesitated. "Why don't I bring you back to the Darkmoon Pack to recover?" Ivy gave no response, eyes pressed shut. James sighed. "I'll visit again in a few days." Olivia looked toward her aunt, voice tentative. "Aunt...?" No answer. Her ears drooped with disappointment as she followed her parents out. Ulric was relocated to another chamber to recover, while the Darkmoon trio and Ulva, Magnus, and Aysel moved toward the study to talk. But two wolves did not leave. Thick-skinned Emma tugged Rollo to stay behind, eyes shining with gossip. The moment the hallway cleared, she tiptoed toward Ivy's bedside. "Alpha Magnus's stepmother-oh, pfft!" Rollo pinched her so hard she yelped.On the walk over, she had been corrupted by Aysel's wickedly cheerful "stepmother, stepmother" teasing. Now every time she saw Ivy, the words popped straight into her head like spellwork. Meeting Ivy's murderous, bandage-wrapped stare-the kind of look a cornered wolf gives just before going for the throat-Emma hurriedly corrected herself. "Second Sister-in-law." Lowering her voice, she asked with uncontainable curiosity: "So... is Second Brother really... incapable? Have you two truly gone decades without a proper mating cycle?" That made no sense-Ulric had only lost his legs four years ago. Before the wounds on Ivy's chest could split again, her spirit cracked first. "Who said that?" she rasped, expression twisting with rage. "You did," Emma answered without thinking. "Everyone knows." "AAAAAH-!" A scream like a banshee-wolf erupted from Ivy's throat. In the next heartbeat, both Emma and Rollo were kicked out of the room-literally shoved out by a half-shifting Ivy whose claws glinted from beneath her bandages. Hearing the commotion, the wolves in the nearby study rushed out. Rollo straightened her clothes, trying to erase the memory of Ivy's feral, unhinged eruption. "It's nothing," she said weakly. "Second Sister-in-law just needed to vent her frustration." Emma nodded in guilty agreement. And the hall finally fell into uneasy quiet.