Third Person's POV The curtains were tightly shut, sealing the room in oppressive darkness. The heavy stench of alcohol and fallen Alpha pheromones poisoned the air. The door was suddenly shoved open. Luna Blackwood froze at the threshold as the suffocating smell of liquor hit her. Her gaze swept across the floor-empty bottles scattered like corpses across a battlefield. Her expression darkened. She strode to the window and yanked the curtains apart. Blinding sunlight surged into the room. "How long do you plan to rot like this?" she demanded coldly. On the floor, slumped against the bed like a broken beast, sat Damo-the former pride of the Blackwood Pack, now unshaven, hollow-eyed, and drowning in despair. The sudden light stabbed into eyes long accustomed to darkness. Damon blinked instinctively and lifted an arm to shield his face. The communicator beside him lit up again and again with incoming signals. He ignored every single one. Instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and drank. Luna Blackwood's control finally cracked. She lunged forward, wrenched the bottle from his hand, and smashed it against the ground. Glass exploded across the floor. "You've looked half-dead ever since you came back from the Moonvale Pack," she snapped. "Do you think drowning yourself in alcohol will make anyone pity you? The only ones celebrating this are your enemies!" Damon let out a careless, broken laugh. He reached down and picked up another half-full bottle. "Mom?" he drawled. "No... shouldn't you be almost Quentin's mother by now? Luna Blackwood-what business do you have with me?" Pain flickered across her face. "Is this really all it takes to crush you?" she said quietly. "Your life isn't even one-third over. Setbacks don't define eternity. A single retreat doesn't mean permanent defeat."For the sake of long-term dominance, a moment of humiliation meant nothing. Even if the visible power of the Blackwood Pack had shifted to Quentin, countless hidden resources still remained. If Damon asked, both she and Alpha Blackwood would still provide. And one day-when Magnus stopped watching so closely... when Damon grew strong enough again-taking back everything would not be impossible. But Damon kept drinking, unmoved. Win or lose-what difference did it make? Time would never reverse. And the most precious treasure of his entire existence had already been lost. Luna Blackwood snatched the bottle from his hand again and hurled it across the room. Then, without hesitation, she struck his face. The slap echoed sharply in the darkened room. "Even without Celestine and her mother," she said mercilessly, "you were still never worthy of Aysel." Damon's eyes finally shifted. She pressed on, each word like a blade. "When she lost her leg and was forced off the stage, did she collapse into filth like this? No. She stood back up on a new path. The Moonvale Pack crushed her again and again, and she still fought her way to independence. And you?" She laughed bitterly. "While you drown in alcohol, she's already walked ninety-nine steps forward. You'll spend your life watching her back-watching her marry another, bear another Alpha's heirs, and build a future that has nothing to do with you." Her eyes were ruthless. "Even if they someday divorce, it still won't be your turn." Damon suddenly seized on one fragment of her words. "...Did you hear something?" he asked hoarsely. Luna Blackwood looked at him without warmth."The Darkmoon Pack's eldest daughter-Olivia-is moving to form a political bond with Magnus Sanchez," she said flatly. "Whether it succeeds or not, do you really think an Alpha like Magnus will lack suitors? Surrounded by temptation, how long do you think any bond can endure?" And Aysel-after enduring everything in the Moonvale Pack-would she truly enjoy living in a battlefield of power and intrigue? The Darkmoon Pack was far stronger than the fallen Moonvale ever was. And Aysel's eyes would never tolerate sand. After the betrayal of her past, if Magnus showed the slightest hesitation-everything between them would shatter instantly. Luna Blackwood did not understand the two of them. In her world, youthful passion was nothing more than hormones and heat-fierce but fleeting. Under the weight of real power, every emotion faded. Only tangible benefit-territory, bloodlines, dominance-endured. They belonged to different worlds. They should never have been together. She had once seen Olivia with her own eyes. Just like her aunt Ivy-obsessive, proud, and relentless. A woman who would never retreat once she had chosen her prey. Truthfully, Luna Blackwood did not wish for her son to continue chasing Aysel. But right now, only that possibility could still provoke him. Waiting for even an uncertain hope was better than watching him decay into nothing. Damon's fingers tightened around his communicator as the screen lit up yet again. His gaze darkened.