Riley's POV "I-it was just a misunderstanding!" one of the women stammered, her face stiff with a fake smile. "We heard she seduced Alpha Lucien and acted in the heat of the moment. It wasn't personal! We meant no real harm-surely you can forgive that?" Another immediately chimed in, nodding fervently. "Yes, yes, exactly. We were misled. Please, Miss Vale, we didn't know who you were..." Their mates-those smug highborn Alphas who had stood by as I was dragged and beaten-now stepped forward with practiced ease, their faces full of hollow remorse. "Alpha Lucien," one said with forced humility, "we've already scolded them. They understand they were wrong." Lucien didn't respond. So I did. I took a single step forward. The echo of my heels on the marble silenced them faster than a roar ever could. "Scolded?" I repeated, my voice low, measured. "That's your idea of justice? They shredded my robe. Left me bloodied and exposed in front of a pack of strangers. And you think a few hollow apologies will erase that?" The women paled. Their husbands faltered, unsure whether to beg or bargain. Lucien stayed silent beside me, a looming shadow of power-but he didn't interfere. Because he knew. This was mine. "You should have thought of consequences," I continued, gaze like a blade, "before you raised your hands against an Alpha's daughter. Before you laughed while I bled." The first woman's face crumpled. "Please, Miss Vale-have mercy. We know we were wrong!" I tilted my head, letting the silence stretch. Letting their fear ferment. "You all seem so sorry now," I mused. "But I'm a believer in balance." They looked hopeful for a heartbeat. Then I spoke again."You like using your hands so much? Then you'll pay with one finger each. Strip them, too-let the rest of the world see what happens when wolves attack their own." Screams erupted instantly. The women clutched their husbands in terror. The men began shouting, begging, stumbling over one another to shield their wives from the guards who stepped forward at my command. "No-please! That's too much!" "She didn't mean it-" "We'll pay any fine! Just not that!" But I was done with fines. I was done with weak men and their excuses. One of the husbands dropped to his knees before Lucien-Alpha of Stormridge, judge of war councils, and now, my silent enforcer. "Alpha Lucien, please, this punishment is too cruel! My wife was ignorant. I'll offer compensation-land, silver, whatever you ask." Lucien arched an eyebrow. He hadn't moved. Hadn't even unsheathed a claw. But his voice, when it came, was ice: "You said anything?" "Yes!" the man gasped. "Anything!" A pause. "Even bankruptcy?" Lucien asked. Dead silence. Every breath in the banquet hall vanished. Even the chandeliers seemed to dim. The man froze, as if struck by lightning. The light in his eyes died a slow, sputtering death. Wives could be replaced. But an Alpha's empire? That was irreplaceable.I saw the moment greed triumphed over love. The subtle clench of his jaw. The way his hand slipped from his wife's. I gave a sharp nod. "Do it." The guards surged forward. The women screamed, struggled, cried. Tears streaked their powdered faces, leaving trails of ruined vanity behind. They were dragged to the side of the hall and forced to kneel beside a long, polished table. I followed. One of the guards held down a trembling arm. Another placed a blade-silver-plated, ceremonial, glinting cruelly under the lights-onto the polished wood beside it. I picked it up. It wasn't Lucien's hand that reached for justice. It was mine. I walked toward the first man, the one who had groveled seconds before, his eyes wide, sweat beading at his temple. I offered him the blade. He stared at me as though I were a ghost. "Discipline your mate," I said coldly. "This time, you'll take responsibility." He reached for the knife with a trembling hand, but pulled back at the last second, too afraid to act. His wife sobbed. "Don't-don't do it! Just let them punish me, not you!" He looked at her. Then looked at me. Then slowly-pathetically-offered the knife back. "I can't." I met Lucien's eyes, then turned to the guards. "Do it." The woman shrieked as they forced her arm down again. I didn't look away-not once-as the blade came down. There was a cry. A splash of crimson.A silence deeper than death. Lucien stepped beside me, his scent like pine and winter steel, calm and quiet and deadly. "You didn't flinch," he murmured. "I couldn't afford to," I replied. He said nothing for a while. Then, softly, "They'll never forget this night." "No," I said. "But neither will I." Because this was the night I stopped being their prey. The night Riley Vale reclaimed her place in the bloodline. And I wasn't done yet.