Celine POV
The morning sunlight spilled across the lavender velvet rug of my childhood suite, warming the space that had always been my sanctuary. For the first time in three years, the air wasn't choked with the oppressive scent of the Blackwood Pack. Instead, my own natural scent—jasmine under moonlight and silver frost—filled the room, grounding me.
"You should march into the Elders' council right now," Gennie Gamble said, pacing at the foot of my bed. My best friend’s eyes flashed with protective fury. "You are the White Wolf heir, Celine. The sole inheritor of the Silver Crescent Pack. You could crush Damian and that pathetic Omega with a single word."
I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. The phantom pain of the Rejection still throbbed in my chest, but my mind was clearer than it had been in years.
"No, Gennie," I said softly, sliding out of bed. I walked over to my mahogany desk and pulled out a thick leather binder. "For three years, I was treated like a wolfless disease. I was stripped of my dignity and told I was worthless. If I use my grandfather's power to destroy them now, I’m just hiding behind a title."
Gennie stopped pacing, her brow furrowing. "Then what are you going to do?"
I opened the binder, revealing my human university degree and my architectural design portfolio.
"I’m applying for the junior designer position at Universe Group. I need to build my life with my own two hands. Not because I’m weak—but because I want to prove to myself that I can stand on my own, without the White Wolf crown, before I ever choose to wear it."
Gennie stared at the sketches, then looked up at me. The anger in her eyes melted into profound respect. "You're going to start from the bottom."
"I'm going to start from scratch," I corrected, a genuine smile touching my lips for the first time in months. “My wolf is awake now. But power without purpose is just tyranny. I need to know who Celine is before I decide what kind of Queen I want to become.”
*
Damian POV
The dark mahogany walls of my office felt like a suffocating cage. The realization that I had rejected my true Mate—a White Wolf and a future Queen—was tearing my sanity to shreds. My scent, usually a commanding blend of pine and leather before a storm, was now soured with frantic, uncontrollable agony.
The heavy oak doors flew open, slamming against the walls.
"You froze my accounts?!" Marina shrieked, storming into the room. My sister’s face was twisted in spoiled, self-righteous fury—though I caught the flicker of fear beneath it.
She knew she should be in the dungeon for her role in the blood ritual conspiracy, but our mother had begged for her temporary release. A mistake I was already regretting.
"My black card was declined at the boutique! How could you do this to your own sister over that—?"
She hesitated, her eyes darting away. Even she couldn’t deny what we had witnessed in the Ritual Chamber: Celine had thrown two Warriors across the room with raw, ancient power. But Marina’s prejudice ran deeper than logic. “—over her?”
A low, dangerous growl vibrated in my chest. "You helped Kacie orchestrate a lie that nearly drained my Mate's blood."
"I was protecting Kacie!" Marina yelled, slamming her hands on my desk. "Celine is a jealous, manipulative—she doesn’t even deserve—"
My control snapped.
*"Silence!"*
The Alpha's Command ripped from my throat, heavy and absolute. Marina’s jaw snapped shut, her body freezing against her will as the sheer force of my aura forced her to her knees. Her eyes widened in sheer terror.
"Celine is my Fated Mate," I snarled, rounding the desk to tower over her. "She is the future Luna of this Pack. You will never speak her name with disrespect again."
Before Marina could fight the compulsion to reply, my Beta rushed into the office, his face pale. He held a thick parchment envelope sealed with shimmering silver wax—the crest of the Silver Crescent Pack.
The compulsion lifted slightly, and Marina gasped for air.
Despite her terror, her venomous nature clawed its way back. “See?” she sneered, though her voice trembled. “She’s sending letters already. Probably demanding money. That’s all she ever wanted.”
A desperate, pathetic spark of hope ignited in my chest. Maybe Marina was right. Maybe Celine was just angry. Maybe I could still fix this with wealth, with apologies, with anything she wanted.
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that Celine was just another gold-digger, that I could throw wealth at the wound and make it heal.
But I knew the truth. I had read the reports. Celine Moon was the granddaughter of a former Alpha King. She had more money and power in her little finger than I had in my entire Pack.
And yet, a desperate, pathetic spark of hope ignited in my chest anyway. Maybe she wants to negotiate. Maybe she still wants something from me.
My hands trembled as I broke the silver wax seal.
I turned the envelope over.
A piece of plastic clattered onto the polished wood of my desk.
It was the limitless black card I had instructed my assistant to deliver to her yesterday—an insult I had sent through a third party because I couldn’t even be bothered to face her myself. I had never thrown it in her face. I had never touched her with it. But the cowardice of that gesture made it worse, not better.
Then, the heavy parchment slid out.
It wasn't a demand for money. It wasn't a letter of negotiation. It was a Rejection Scroll, written in cold, shimmering ink. At the bottom, Celine Moon’s signature was already slashed across the page, elegant and ruthlessly final.
Marina’s smug laughter died in her throat.
I stared at the scroll, the air leaving my lungs. The black card mocked my arrogance, but the scroll... the scroll was a death sentence. My Inner Wolf let out a bloodcurdling howl of pure devastation as the reality of what I had lost finally, truly shattered my soul.
She wasn’t coming back. Not for money. Not for apologies. Not for anything I could offer.
