Andy tried to push through the wall of furious she-wolves, his usually polished appearance now in ruins-his face was streaked with bloody scratches, his designer coat ripped and dangling from his shoulders. He fought like mad, but he was no match for the pack-born strength of the matriarchs surrounding Riley. Just three meters away, Ronan Duskcliff stood still, watching it all unfold with a chilling calm. His expression betrayed nothing, but his eyes shimmered with a storm of emotion. He hated seeing her like this-broken, bloodied, humiliated. And yet, he did nothing. Riley Vale was too stubborn. Too proud. Too wild. He'd told her before-he didn't need a Luna who fought back against her fate, who clawed her way through the world like a rogue. No, he wanted a docile mate. A quiet one. One who knew her place. He was waiting. Waiting for her to look up at him and beg. Just say the word, Riley, he thought. Just beg. And I'll protect you. Their eyes locked. In her pain-glazed gaze, he saw it all-disdain, betrayal, and cold, seething clarity. And Riley saw through him too. She saw the sick expectation lurking in his eyes. The twisted pleasure of control. The silent chant behind his silence: Beg me. Her lip curled in a blood-smeared smile. Contempt gleamed in her eyes like broken glass. Never. Even if it killed her, she'd never give him that satisfaction. Ronan's chest tightened like a steel trap. Shame, anger, and some twisted form of regret boiled in his veins. He took a hesitant step forward-but the coldness in Riley's eyes struck him like a slap. And so, he froze. Meanwhile, Lady Seraphina Duskgrave was snarling like a beast unchained. "You dare smile? You think this is funny, you filthy slut?" With a scream, she lunged at Riley, clawing at the remnants of her dress. Two other noble she-wolves joined her, ripping fabric and skin with the fury of scorned mates. Riley's gown shredded beneath their claws, leaving welts and torn skin in their wake. "Strip her!" "She wants attention? Let's give it to her!" The blows rained down like hail. Fists. Heels. Nails. Words. Slut. Seductress. Whore. They dragged her across the marble floors, leaving streaks of blood behind her limp body. What remained of her gown fluttered in tatters, exposing the bruised, pale skin of her back and shoulders. Her dignity. Her identity. Her humanity-stripped in front of them all. "Drag her to the ballroom!" Seraphina shrieked. "Let the males see what kind of filth she really is!" Some she-wolves hesitated. "But it's Matriarch Duskgrave's birthday..." "I am Duskgrave's daughter-in-law!" Seraphina snapped. "Do as I say!" They grabbed Riley again, her body a ragdoll in their claws. Behind them, Ronan still didn't move. Scarlett clung to his arm, whispering poison into his ear. "She brought this on herself, Brother Ronan. You can't risk our alliance with the Stormridge Pack over her..." He didn't respond. Not really. He just stared, guilt tightening like a noose. He told himself again and again: She deserved it. She provoked Seraphina. She refused to submit. This was her fault. Andy, bloodied and barely able to stand, suddenly screamed, "Let her go, or you'll answer to Prince Lucien!" The name hit the air like lightning. Everyone froze-momentarily. Then scoffed. "Lucien Duskgrave?" Seraphina cackled. "That boy's been in the North for three months and already found himself a plaything? I don't buy it. And even if it were true-he'll never choose her." Her claws descended again, raking across Riley's bare shoulder- And that was the last straw.A growl ripped through the air. No-not a growl. A roar. A guttural, primal, chilling sound that echoed off the stone halls of the Duskgrave Estate. Seraphina spun around, but it was already too late. The scent of ozone. Of ancient power. Of winter storms. In a flash of blinding silver-white light, Riley's broken body contorted and shifted. Bones cracked. Flesh melted. Claws burst from bloodied fingers. Before anyone could scream, a massive white wolf lunged from the center of the pack. She was huge-twice the size of a normal she-wolf-coated in fur like new-fallen snow, stained red from her own blood. Her eyes blazed like molten moonlight, full of pain, fury, and vengeance. Riley-the trueborn white wolf of the Ebonclaw Alpha bloodline-had finally awakened. And she was pissed. With a snarl that made even the guards flinch, she clamped her jaws around Seraphina's throat and threw her back ten feet. The Alpha's mate crashed into a marble column with a sickening crack, sliding down in a heap. The ballroom exploded into screams. The nobles scattered, heels clicking, gowns flaring, trying to flee. Riley didn't chase them. She stalked toward Seraphina, blood dripping from her maw. One paw. Another. Each step deliberate. Each breath vibrating with barely-contained wrath. The Lady of Stormridge coughed, tried to rise-and the white wolf pounced. Claws sank into her shoulders. A warning growl rumbled low and deadly in Riley's throat. Then she opened her jaws- Just as the door burst open.A cold, sharp wind swept into the corridor. And with it... came Ford. Lucien's father. He stood tall in the threshold, the shadows curling around him like loyal hounds. His eyes-ice blue, ancient, commanding-locked onto the scene before him. The white wolf. Seraphina bloodied beneath her. Dozens of nobles cowering. And Riley... glowing like vengeance incarnate. "Seraphina, what are you doing?!"