The music from the banquet hall thumped through the floorboards. I stood near the entrance, just like Leo's note instructed. I kept my back against the wall, watching the corridor. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meats, expensive perfumes, and the nervous energy of the pack.
Twenty minutes before the Alpha's opening speech, the heavy double doors swung open. Eden slipped out. She headed straight for the restrooms down the hall, her head bowed in her perfect, fragile posture. I waited a few minutes, my pulse steady. My silver wolf was wide awake, pacing behind my eyes. She wasn't scared of the dark anymore. She was ready.
I pushed off the wall and started walking down the hall. Just as I passed the restroom door, it swung open.
Eden stumbled out. Four deep, bloody scratches dragged down her left cheek. Her eyes were wide, brimming with glistening tears. She looked right at me, taking a sharp breath.
"She attacked me!" Eden screamed.
Her voice echoed off the high ceiling. The music inside the hall cut off instantly. The heavy wooden doors burst open, and pack members flooded into the corridor, their faces alarmed.
Sylas pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He looked terrible. His face was pale, and his rejected bond scar was a furious, rotting red on his neck. But the moment he saw Eden bleeding, his Alpha instincts flared. It was a blind, stupid reaction. He didn't look at me. He didn't ask what happened. He just saw his fragile Omega bleeding, and he snapped.
"Kneel!"
The Alpha tone hit me like a concrete block. It wasn't a request. It was a supernatural command woven into our bloodline. My legs buckled instantly. My knees slammed into the hard tile floor, sending a sharp jolt of pain up my spine.
The entire corridor went dead silent. Dozens of wolves stared down at me. Eden sobbed loudly, burying her face in Sylas's chest. Sylas stood over me, his hand raised, his chest heaving with misplaced rage.
I didn't blink. I didn't cry. I kept my face perfectly still. I pressed my thumbnail into my palm, pressing until the skin broke and a warm drop of blood slid down my wrist. The physical pain was nothing. The absolute, freezing clarity in my chest was everything. This was it. The final proof that I owed this man, and this pack, absolutely nothing.
Then, a slow, unhurried footstep broke the silence.
Leo stepped out from the back of the crowd. He didn't run. He didn't shout. He walked over to the media console mounted on the wall outside the banquet hall. He pulled a small silver flash drive from his pocket, plugged it in, and tapped a few buttons.
The massive display screens inside the hall, and the monitors lining the corridor, flickered to life.
There was no sound on the video, but it didn't need any. The footage was crystal clear. It showed Eden standing alone in front of the bathroom mirror. She stared at her own reflection. Then, slowly and methodically, she raised her hand and clawed four deep scratches into her own face.
A collective gasp ripped through the crowd.
On the screen, Eden checked the angle of her bleeding cheek. She adjusted her hair. She forced her eyes wide, rehearsing her tragic expression. Then, she pushed the door open and walked out.
The corridor was so quiet I could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights.
Sylas froze. His hand, still raised in his Alpha command, began to tremble violently. He stared at the screen, his mouth slightly open. The color drained completely from his face. His entire reality was shattering in real-time.
Then, the air in the hallway changed.
A crushing, suffocating pressure flooded the space. It wasn't an Alpha aura. It was older, darker, and infinitely heavier. It felt like a thunderstorm rolling inside the building. Several warriors gasped, their knees buckling as they instinctively bared their necks. The sheer weight of it made my silver wolf purr in recognition.
Leo didn't even look at them. His Lycan aura was barely contained, a terrifying force that pushed Sylas back a step.
Leo walked right past Sylas. He stopped in front of me. Slowly, he shrugged off his dark jacket. He draped it over my shoulders. The heavy, intoxicating scent of dark honey and thunderstorm wrapped around me instantly, chasing away the cold tile and the smell of blood.
He offered me his hand.
I looked at his large, steady palm. I didn't hesitate. I placed my hand in his.
Leo pulled me to my feet. He didn't say a word to Sylas. He didn't look at Eden, who was now trembling in genuine terror against the wall. He just kept my hand in his and escorted me down the hallway. We walked right through the crowd of stunned wolves. They parted for us like the Red Sea, keeping their heads bowed.
Sylas just stood there, frozen, his hand still suspended in the empty air.
We pushed through the front doors and stepped out into the cold night air. The wind whipped through the trees, but under Leo's jacket, I was completely warm.
I stopped walking. I turned to look at him. The heavy Lycan pressure had vanished, leaving only the calm, steady man who lit lanterns for me in the dark.
"You've been planning that for weeks," I said quietly.
Leo stopped beside me. His dark eyes met mine. "Since the day I reviewed the archive."
I stared at him. He knew Eden was faking her injuries all along. He had the proof from Petra. "You could have told me."
"I could have," Leo replied, his voice a low, steady rumble. "You would have tried to handle it yourself and gotten hurt in the process."
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died in my throat. He was right. If I had known, I would have confronted her alone. I would have played right into their hands again. He didn't just expose her. He protected me from my own reckless survival instincts.
I didn't argue. I didn't agree. I just pulled his jacket a little tighter around my shoulders, breathing in the dark honey, and kept walking by his side into the dark.
