Third Person's POV Celestine moved through the dark corridors of her thoughts like a lone wolf circling prey. There was a gambler's edge to her heart, a daring instinct that told her: once she was bound in marriage, even Dariusz's schemes could not touch her. She had claws of her own, other ways to pin him down. Of course, she did not yet know that Aysel still held secrets, pieces of evidence capable of dragging her back into the iron bars of a prison den. The thrill of dropping one bomb at a time-one lethal move at a time-was precisely what made life deliciously dangerous. Her mind churned with agitation, that familiar sense of being hunted gnawing at her nerves. Did Aysel, when she had released Celestine from her last confinement, ever anticipate this day? A creeping fear of having nowhere safe, no corner in the pack to hide, wormed its way through her chest. Her silence stretched too long. Quentin's claws rapped lightly against the polished wood of the office table, sharp and deliberate. Celestine's eyes, pale and determined, locked onto him. "Agreed. But... I cannot even locate him. How am I supposed to marry him?" The Blackwood matriarch maintained a strict, unwavering guard over her Alpha son, and the exposure of Yuna Ward's schemes had struck Damon hard. Celestine was trapped in a nest of obstacles, surrounded by den walls she could not scale. Quentin's lips curved in a wolfish smirk, predatory amusement glinting in his eyes. "No need to worry. I can show you a path. In a few days, there is a yacht gathering. Damon's mother secured an invitation to expand his social territory. You will see him there." Celestine opened her mouth, ready to argue, but Quentin cut her off. "The invitation itself is your responsibility, Miss Ward. Fail to secure entry, and I might question your competence as a manipulator of pack affairs." Her expression darkened. Meanwhile, in the hospital, Luna Evelyn's amber eyes fluttered open. She blinked at Fenrir, who stood near the window, finishing a call. "Has Aysel come by?" The body still weak, spirit depleted from the recent trials, she had spent her recovery days in quiet vigilance. Each time she woke, the question repeated-a litany of hope, dashed. Fenrir shook his head. Luna Evelyn sighed in resigned calm. "And Celestine? How is she?" Fenrir poured her a cup of water. "Nothing to worry about. She dressed and left the hospital yesterday, presenting herself well as if nothing had happened." His tone carried the bite of subtle mockery. Luna Evelyn pressed her lips together. "I will discharge today too. Bring her and Lykos back to the den. It is time for a family reckoning." That night, the Moonvale Pack gathered for the first time in years. Five wolves under one roof, yet the warmth of family had been replaced by the chill of betrayal. Alpha Remus and Luna Evelyn could scarcely fathom the venom that had arisen from the wolf they had nurtured, the daughter once cradled in the den's warmth. Facing Celestine's aggressive demands, Remus's eyes bulged with disbelief. "We raised you, fed you, taught you to hunt, to dance under the moonlight! Your life has been richer than before, and now the pack faces peril, yet you dare seize the den's treasures?" Celestine's amber eyes were cold, predatory. "Foolish of you, Alpha. I repeat: give me what I demand, or face the cage." Remus's chest rose and fell with the rhythm of contained rage. From the day she had left the pack's confines, exposed by the hunting grounds of the media, calamity had followed. If only Aysel had let her languish longer in the pack's holding pens. The Moonvale Pack, once a sanctuary, now seemed a den of fools for ever shielding her. Luna Evelyn, however, remained calm. She had seen the strike, felt the blade, and understood that the bond of mother and daughter was already severed. Celestine had inherited the cunning and cruelty of Yuna Ward. "Celestine," she said, eyes fixed like amber daggers, "we shared seventeen cycles of the moon. Do you truly believe your actions have gone unseen? The young wolves you bullied-were they guilty, or were your claws at play? I bear guilt, but your hands are not clean. Can you withstand scrutiny?" Celestine paused, the words striking like cold steel. Sometimes, the fiercest truths came from those who had walked beside you through every hunting ground, every challenge. Her gaze swept over them, full of scorn. The Moonvale Pack, so long naive, could never be truly innocent. "I can withdraw my claim," Celestine said, voice low, dangerous, "but you cannot leave me empty-handed." Fenrir, seizing on his mother's leverage, spoke firmly: "One million." Celestine's golden eyes widened. "You spoke of ten million in the hospital! Are you testing me?" Fenrir's voice was steady, unwavering. "The pack's coffers are barren. Soon, even this den will fall. One million is already a stretch." Luna Evelyn looked at her coolly. "I have lived long enough. If needed, I would go to the cage myself, to shield the young wolves." Celestine's fangs clenched. The den had plotted against her, yet she had no choice-too many eyes, too many truths to hide. Her thoughts flicked to the misappropriated funds she had taken while in Moonvale Pack territory. She exhaled through her nostrils, fangs bared. "One million it is. I expect it by dawn." Her gaze swept to Fenrir. "And... get me an invitation." Celestine stormed from the den, anger radiating like heat off a wintered wolf's fur. Lykos, watching the pack feud over a single jewel, found himself numb to the spectacle. Yet even he, fresh from the pack's law enforcers, could not escape the weight of parental wrath. Remus's eyes burned as he barked instructions at his son. "Sell your chariots! Your allowance ends now! Years of indulgence cannot excuse you from learning to hunt for yourself. What will you do once you leave the den?" Lykos froze, the storm of reality hitting him like a predator's leap. His life had been easy, a simple feast of abundance and games. Now, the den demanded he learn to fend for himself-a wolf cast into a stormy river. "You're still here, aren't you?" he blurted. Remus's growl rumbled through the room. "And you expect us to feed you forever? What happens when we pass into the Great Moon? Your sister, at eighteen, was already capable of hunting alone!" The final words echoed in the den. Silence fell over the pack, thick as the winter fog, each wolf feeling the weight of the hunt yet to come.