Aysel's POV Everything that had happened that night left Alpha Remus uneasy. I could scent it-the sharp tang of anxiety beneath his carefully pressed jacket. He wanted to salvage control, to remind the pack that I was still bound by his rules. "The bracelet," he said, clearing his throat, "belongs to Aysel. But it is to be given only upon her mating ceremony. Tonight's gift isn't this one." He flicked a glance toward the butler-a silent command. Old habits ran deep. The butler hesitated only a moment before stepping forward, intending to take the box from my hands. A shadow crossed between us. Magnus. The low hum of his growl rumbled through the open courtyard, silencing even the crickets. "Oh?" His tone was deceptively calm, but every wolf present could feel the dominance threading his words. "So this is how the Moonvale Alpha handles tradition? The adopted daughter wears the sacred relic without question, but the true-blood heir must wait until marriage to touch what's hers?" His mockery hit its mark. Every gaze turned toward Celestine Ward-my so-called cousin, though the scent of her blood had always been foreign to me. She froze. The jade glinted faintly against her wrist. I knew she'd worn it tonight to taunt me-to remind me what I'd been denied. But the trap she'd set now snapped back on her throat. Panic rippled across her face as she tried to hide her arm, but Jeanne from the Nightshade Pack-blessedly reckless and nosy-caught her wrist mid-motion and raised it high. "Oh, wow," Jeanne chirped, feigning innocence. "Celestine, your bracelet looks exactly like Aysel's!" The air shifted. Wolves were predators of scent and silence, but now every gaze cut like a blade."She's not even mated," someone muttered. "Then how did she get it?" another hissed. I smiled, slow and sharp. "My grandmother's relics were forged as a pair," I said, letting my voice carry across the courtyard. "One for me, and one for my cousin. I only recently discovered that hers was given long ago-while mine, it seems, was locked away. Tell me, Luna Evelyn-why is that?" The Luna's scent turned sour, her composure cracking. Even Alpha Remus shot her a dark look. He tried to smooth it over, gruffly saying, "Your sister only borrowed it for the ceremony. You've always been overly sensitive, Aysel. Let's not make a scene. Take it now-it's yours." Magnus's hand slid to my back, grounding me. His voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. "So this is how the Moonvale Alpha settles his debts? By gaslighting his own daughter-calling her heartache a tantrum while coddling his favorite?" The crowd went still. No one dared breathe. Alpha Remus's jaw flexed, but he didn't respond. No one ever challenged Magnus Sanchez-not even across pack borders. His dominance filled the air like smoke, cold and suffocating. I leaned slightly into him, just enough to make it clear where I stood. Then, I looked at the two wolves who'd once called themselves my parents. "I always knew," I said softly, the words trembling but true, "that in your eyes, Celestine's place in this pack was heavier than mine." My throat tightened, but I didn't stop. "I can forgive being forgotten on my birthdays. I can even accept that the 5% share of the pack holdings that was promised to me at eighteen went to her instead. I've lived three years without asking for a single silver coin from Moonvale." I looked up, meeting their eyes fully now. "But my grandmother's relic?" My voice broke, anger threading through it. "Even that had to be stolen from me?" A hush fell.I let it stretch until even the wind seemed to pause. "Tell me, Alpha Remus. Luna Evelyn." I took a step forward, every wolf instinct in me demanding the truth. "Am I truly your daughter? Or just the ghost of the one you wished you had?" A chorus of gasps broke out among the guests. "Did she say adopted?" "Celestine's the favored one? But she's not even blood!" "Five percent of Moonvale's holdings to an outsider-unthinkable." I could feel Magnus's arm tighten around me, his low growl curling against my spine. I didn't need to look at him to know what that sound meant. He wasn't angry for me. He was angry with me-because I was his, and they had dared to treat his Luna like something disposable.