Third Person's POV As for why Lucien couldn't reach his Beta, Duke-at this very moment, the male was tearing through the rain-slicked streets of Mooncrest like a shadow on wheels. The sleek black Maybach cut through the storm like a predator through underbrush, tires hissing against the drenched pavement. It finally came to a stop at the gates of Ashmoor University. Inside the car, the scent of aged sandalwood clashed with the lingering jasmine in the air-delicate traces of the young she-wolf sitting in the passenger seat. Duke's sharp gaze slid toward her from the corner of his eye. Tears clung to her lashes like crystal shards, and her white T-shirt, damp with spilled liquor, clung to her frail frame. Her collarbones jutted out beneath her pale skin, and the outline of her shoulder blades looked as fragile as bird wings. She glanced at him and whispered, "Thank you... for bringing me back." Her voice was soft. Honest. It carried none of the practiced seduction he was used to hearing from the females of the city. Duke raised a brow, amused. "You really are a student," he muttered, lips quirking with dry humor. The girl-Carmen-pressed her lips together and fidgeted with her fingers, looking painfully out of place, like a rogue pup in a court full of nobles. He watched her silently for another beat before adding, "If you are a student, you really shouldn't be hanging around places like Silverfang Den. If I hadn't been there tonight, you might not have made it out unharmed." She dipped her head in shame and gave a soft, barely audible, "Mm." She hadn't meant to end up there. The pay at the bar was just too good to pass up. Her mother had been cast out of the Ebonclaw Pack, and Carmen had taken it upon herself to help ease the burden. Even if it meant risking everything. She gathered her courage, nodded, and whispered, "I-I should go." Her hand reached for the door. "Wait," Duke said abruptly.Carmen froze, startled, glancing back at him. He reached behind his seat and pulled out a sleek, silver-trimmed umbrella. In the soft glow of the interior lights, it gleamed-sleek, branded, expensive. He handed it to her. Carmen blinked, stunned by the gesture. "Thank you..." Just as she was about to step out, she paused and turned back to ask, "Sir, how should I return the umbrella?" "No need," Duke replied easily, already shifting his attention to the console. But Carmen looked down at the small emblem on the handle-an unmistakable Stormridge sigil. She shook her head firmly. "This umbrella... it's too valuable. I have to return it." A brief, amused glint passed through Duke's eyes. "Alright, then. I'll come collect it myself-tomorrow morning." Carmen, not picking up on his teasing tone, nodded earnestly. "Okay. I'll wait for you outside the gate." She opened the door and stepped out, pausing once more to glance back. "Sir... be safe on your way home." Then she turned and disappeared into the misty silhouette of the campus, the umbrella snapping open above her like a shield. Duke watched her retreating figure until it vanished into the shadows of the university. Only then did he shift gears and ease the Maybach back into motion. He hadn't expected the night to take such a turn. There was something oddly refreshing about Carmen-the stubborn innocence, the blunt gratitude, the complete lack of guile. A rare find in a city full of ambition and lies. He wasn't entirely sure why, but she made the rain feel a little less heavy. His fingers drummed against the wheel as the car cruised smoothly through the storm. Raindrops drummed against the windshield in a steady rhythm, half-lulling, half-maddening. Reaching for his phone with one hand, he flicked the screen on-only to see three missed calls from Lucien Duskgrave. Duke winced. "Sh*t." He hit the call-back button and put it on speaker, bracing himself.Back at Duskgrave Manor, Lucien answered on the first ring. "Well," came the Alpha's dark drawl, "your nightlife seems... entertaining." Duke gave a half-grin. "You always did say nothing escapes you, Alpha." Lucien didn't laugh. He never did when it was business. "We're done entertaining," Lucien said coolly. "Kael Vale's gotten far too comfortable. Time to bankrupt the Ebonclaw Pack's precious company. Give him something else to cry about." Duke blinked. "You want to crash Vale Industries?" Lucien's tone was as casual as it was lethal. "By sunrise." There was a long pause. Duke pulled the phone away from his ear, stared at it like it had just grown fangs, then sighed and muttered, "You've got to be kidding." He knew his Alpha. When Lucien made a decision, it wasn't up for debate. Though Vale Industries was a mid-tier operation, dismantling a pack-run corporation in a single night would require a perfect storm-legal threads, supply chain sabotage, digital warfare... the whole arsenal. And he was just one exhausted Beta who'd spent the night peeling drunk she-wolves off a girl who barely weighed ninety pounds soaking wet. Still, he'd signed up for this life. "Understood," Duke said at last. "I'll start with the contracts tied to their Northern shipping routes. Their exports to Blackmaw territory are already unstable." Lucien gave a quiet grunt of approval and hung up. Duke tossed the phone into the passenger seat and let out a long, soul-weary groan. "One of these days," he muttered to no one, "you're going to be the death of me." Then he slammed the gas. The Maybach surged forward like a predator on the hunt, rain shearing off its sides as it hurtled through the city. The shadows of Mooncrest blurred past, and in his mind, the pieces were already falling into place-one by one, lining up for a collapse.He didn't feel pity for Kael Vale. Not anymore. All that mattered now was obedience. And speed. Because come sunrise, there'd be nothing left of the Ebonclaw Pack's empire but ashes and regret.