Third Person's POV The moment the tension reached its peak, the purpose was already achieved. Aysel did not bother wasting breath on Damon. She flicked the ends of her hair with effortless disdain, her wolf's aura steady and cool. "Why would someone like me-an orphan of Moonvale-care about the parents of others? Alpha Damon, I know you're eager to defend your fiancée, but the auction isn't over yet. Perhaps don't hijack someone else's arena to lecture about right and wrong." Her words were sharp enough to draw blood, though her tone was light, almost amused. And the most infuriating part was that no one could argue with her logic. The instigator, meanwhile, simply shut her VIP balcony window with a cheerful snap, resolutely ending the conversation. Damon's reply caught in his throat. He and Celestine were forced to swallow that humiliation whole, their wolves bristling inside their chests. The auction host, sensing that the power struggle among the wealthy Alphas had temporarily ceased, exhaled in relief and motioned for the final artifact to be brought forward. Unfortunately, the crowd was still intoxicated by the scandal. The last piece-a painting imbued with old pack history-drew almost no attention. Some wolves stole glances at the Blackwood pair's dark expressions, then at the tightly shut window of the VIP balcony. A thrill of primal anticipation rippled through the hall as they wondered whether the two sides would clash again. But as bids progressed, that once-arrogant balcony remained silent. Celestine clearly wanted to bid again. Her pride insisted that with her guard up, she would not lose to Aysel in a true contest. Yet Aysel simply did not participate. The frustration lodged in Celestine's chest almost made her choke. Zark, seated nearby, finally allowed the tension in his shoulders to ease. Had the bidding climbed to match the frenzy of earlier rounds, he would have hesitated to make a move.If not for the investor he needed to impress-an infamously incorruptible elder of the Thornwild-Zark would never have resorted to such an indirect method: donating an artifact to charity and then buying it back at a respectable price to curry favor. Being born of the Sanchez line gave him status, but not enough to court the investor openly. He designed the moment meticulously: to compete cleanly among many bidders, win with calm dominance, and then present the relic as a token of respect to the investor. That perfect plan now lay ruined, shattered by all the earlier disruption. The mood was gone. The atmosphere turned sour. The effect-diminished beyond repair. Grinding his teeth silently, Zark forced down his irritation. When the host announced the final bid was settled, Zark smiled toward the man beside him. "Mr. Smith, as the saying goes, a blade seeks a worthy warrior and a masterpiece seeks one who can appreciate it. I bought it tonight only for the sake of charity. I fear I'll fail the painting with my shallow eye-so perhaps it belongs better with an expert like you..." The painting had already been brought to the room in advance. Mr. Smith reached out to accept it- "Wait!" A clear, ringing voice split the hall. The sharp strike of heels echoed-thud, thud, thud-as the auction doors swung open. A woman in a fitted white suit, short hair sharp as a blade, strode in flanked by Thornwild Pack enforcers. Wolves who had been preparing to leave immediately dropped back into their seats. The woman ignored every heated stare and ascended to the second floor with the unyielding force of an Alpha who knew her strength. A moment later, a resounding slap cracked across the VIP corridor. All windows had been open earlier thanks to the drama between Aysel, Damon, and Celestine-so every pack elite present saw it clearly. Louisa of Thornwild Pack struck Zark across the face with zero hesitation.Accalia Sanchez and Sandy, who had been baffled ever since Louisa's explosive entrance, shot to their feet in shock. "Spirits above-who is she? That's still a Sanchez wolf she slapped!" Though Zark's standing in the Sanchez family wasn't remarkable-especially under the shadow of someone like Magnus Sanchez-even the weakest descendant of Bastien was owed respect. To strike one across the face in public? Unthinkable. But a few recognized her. "That's Louisa of the Thornwild Pack. The heiress." Thornwild Pack was a dominant force in Evermere territory. Under Louisa's leadership, their influence nearly rivaled first-tier packs of the capital. "What grudge could she possibly have with Zark? Why slap him like that?" Before the questions settled, a voice-bright, insincere, and dripping mischief-rang out. "Second Brother~ what did you do to anger this beautiful sister? If you're feeling wronged, tell Magnus. He'll make sure justice is served." The VIP balcony that had been closed off so decisively earlier now opened again. Aysel stood framed in the light, smiling pleasantly, clearly having watched the entire scene. Behind her was Magnus -towering, cold-eyed, his presence enveloping Aysel entirely. Whispers swept the hall. Were Thornwild and Sanchez about to clash? Zark's face turned ashen. He seized Louisa's wrist, voice harsh. "Stay out of this. Our family matters are not yours to judge." Aysel turned her head, looking back at Magnus with wide, innocent eyes. Magnus lifted a hand and brushed over her hair-soft, claiming, unhurried. "Her words," he said, voice low with Alpha authority, "are my words." The declaration landed like another slap across Zark's face-a public, merciless one.Zark inhaled shakily and muttered to Louisa, "Let's speak privately." But Louisa yanked her wrist free, folding her arms. "Perfect. Since the Moonvale girl and Shadowbane Alpha have spoken, let's let them hear the truth. Tell them, Zark-how did a Thornwild heirloom end up on the auction stage as a gift for your investor?" Zark's mind nearly imploded. "Wasn't it a gift you gave me?! And since when did you say it was an heirloom?!" Louisa's voice cut like bone. "How thick is your hide? When did I say it was yours? I lent it to you-lent, not gifted. Do you think a Thornwild heirloom can be mistaken? Even if I had given it to you, how dare you put it up as tribute for someone else?" "That's not what I meant! Louisa, there's a misunderstanding-" "I don't care what your misunderstanding is. Return the artifact. We're done." "No!" Zark reacted instantly, wolf instinct snapping. Louisa was the first girlfriend he had found who did not cost him money-no way would he let her go. Louisa turned to the auction staff instead. "That relic belongs to Thornwild Pack. Zark has no right to auction it." The staff froze, stunned, and the manager rushed out, sweating, trying to contact upper authority. The rest of the wolves erupted. "What?! So Zark donated the painting himself? No wonder the host didn't bother with the background." "And the original owner is here to reclaim it? Spirits, that's humiliating." "He donated it, then bought it back? What's the point?" "Free item, used to buy a reputation for ‘charity,' then purchased cheaply and gifted to someone important. If people don't know the details, he can use one item for two social favors.""Hold on-you're missing the biggest detail. Zark and the Thornwild heiress were dating?!" Truthfully, they had been a decent match on paper-if not for tonight's disaster. Zark might bear the Sanchez name, but he held no real power. Louisa, however, was the power of Thornwild. The investor Zark invited now sat stiffly, prey-eyed, staring at the chaos around him. He regretted accepting Zark's invitation more than anything in his long life.