Third Person's POV Shock came first-then the glint of opportunity. The moment the room fell silent, a pack of ambitious wolves caught the scent of power and their eyes gleamed like predators spotting prey. They'd just discovered a shortcut to please Alpha Magnus-and her name was Aysel Vale. When Celestine and her mother were half-dragged inside, they arrived just in time to see the spectacle: wolves who usually lifted their snouts in arrogance now bowing low, smiling too wide, competing to flatter the Moonvale heiress. Celestine's eyes darkened. Something had gone terribly wrong. Nothing tonight was following her design. Originally, she'd planned every step perfectly. She would take advantage of the engagement celebration-pretend to leave for a moment to retrieve the "special gift" she'd prepared for Damon and Aysel. Outside, her former lover Dariusz's family-the Taylors-would "kidnap" her as planned. Damon would have no choice but to intervene. Everyone knew the Taylors despised Celestine, blaming her for Dariusz's death, and believed she'd driven him to ruin. When they attacked, Damon's sense of debt to the dead would drive him straight to her rescue. He'd fail to return to the ceremony. Aysel's pride would not forgive public humiliation. The union would shatter. And when both families sought to salvage face, the solution would be simple-replace the bride. Celestine would become Damon's rightful Luna. With that title, she'd never again need to fake her fainting spells or fragile health. But instead of a staged abduction, chaos came in blood and teeth. The Taylors had arrived too soon, too wild. They'd ambushed her at the rear gate of the Moonvale manor, pressed a blade to her throat, and screamed madness in the moonlight. "Dariusz is dead! You're sick in the head-mistaking every man for him!" "Slut! Murderer! You seduced him, killed him, and took his Alpha from him!" They'd spat every word like venom, grief twisting into frenzy. Even Dariusz's mother, half-feral in her mourning, clawed at Celestine until Damon came running-panic, guilt, and instinct all tangled together. He tried to calm them, command them, shield her. But it was too late. When the Taylors withdrew-dragging their madness with them-Damon left Celestine in a resting den and returned to the ceremony, his duty split between shame and loyalty. Celestine waited. Waited for the fallout that never came. If she couldn't delay him, she could only pray that time itself had destroyed his bond with Aysel. And if not-there was still Knox Draven. Knox had whispered to her before, strange and violent things. "I'll avenge you." "The Moonvale Pack will have only one daughter." "Aysel Vale won't live to see another moon." She knew his hatred ran deep. She didn't need to direct him-only leave the door unlocked. Her hands would stay clean while his did the work. But when the Ironhowl wolf burst into her chamber, eyes glazed, scent burning wrong, and lunged for her-Celestine knew she'd miscalculated. That fool. That rabid fool. He'd been drugged, set up-used as bait. Rage flared through her. When she struck him back, she didn't hold back. If this ruined everything, so be it. She'd make someone else take the fall-Lykos, perhaps. But then fate twisted again. They'd been seen. By everyone. And if she'd known Knox had planted a live broadcast rune, showing not only their struggle but the secret recording of her private tryst with Damon... she might have torn her own throat out. A quiet swap of brides between two noble packs was one thing. Being caught, publicly, as a scheming wolf in heat-was another.To make matters worse, Aysel had already humiliated Knox once before. The Ironhowl Pack had swallowed their pride only because Serena, his sister, had begged mercy-and because Magnus, the Shadowbane Alpha, had issued a warning. But tonight, with Knox beaten again-this time by Celestine herself-and bleeding in the healer's den, the Dravens would not stay silent. Even if they disowned him, the Ironhowl elders would never let Moonvale wolves trample their name twice. And that, Aysel thought coolly, was the beauty of it. No one knew a wolf's heart like her enemy did. Celestine had gambled on Aysel's pride and temper; Aysel had gambled on Celestine's envy and defiance. She'd already ordered Magnus to keep eyes on Celestine from the start. Let wolves tear wolves. Why dirty her own claws? And Magnus-bless the dark Alpha-had executed her plan even more flawlessly than she'd imagined. Now, as Celestine stumbled into the hall, humiliation clinging to her like blood scent, Aysel's amber eyes met hers across the marble floor. For a heartbeat, both wolves remembered the graveyard-the day one had been cherished, and the other abandoned. This time, the one crawling through ashes was Celestine. The Moonvale Alpha pair-Remus and Luna Evelyn-stared down the intruders, fury flickering beneath control. "What is the meaning of this, Jackson?" Remus's tone was ice. "This is the Moonvale Pack's hall, not a Shadowbane dungeon." Jackson blinked with feigned innocence. "Ah-my apologies, Alpha Remus. Luna Evelyn was simply too eager to attend her daughter's birthday feast. We may have... hurried the journey a little." Remus's jaw tightened. He couldn't refute it-not without admitting he'd neglected Aysel. And so the hall remained hushed, thick with tension and wolfish whispers. Every guest could taste the irony-the Moonvale family's perfect image torn to shreds in one night.