"Go check on the pantry inventory. Now." Martha snapped.
Elena let out a sharp scoff. Martha was the head of the Omegas in the pack, so the others listened to her.
Elena locked eyes with Lena for a long, heavy second before turning on her heel. As she walked past, she intentionally slammed her shoulder against Lena’s, a hard, physical jolt that vibrated through Lena’s bruised ribs.
Lena didn’t strike back. She watched Elena’s retreating back. Elena wasn’t actually malicious. She was just incredibly difficult, probably because she knew Lena was leaving for the Academy and didn’t know how to handle saying goodbye.
Martha sighed, watching the pantry door swing shut. "Don’t mind her. You two are like sisters, you know. You always express it the wrong way."
"Please, ignore Elena," Kourtney broke in, waving a hand dismissively. "We should be enjoying the few hours we have left with our girl! Lena, have you packed yet? We need to make sure you’re taking dresses that actually bring out your fair skin and your waistline."
Lena simply pointed toward the corner near the pantry door. "No need, I’m already packed. My suitcase is right over there."
It was a single, battered canvas bag sitting lonely by the corner. Kourtney blinked in surprise, clearly shocked that Lena even owned a suitcase, and eagerly unzipped the top. Her jaw dropped.
"Sweatshirts?" Kourtney stared into the bag, picking up a faded gray fleece. She let out a loud laugh, looking up at Lena. "Okay, very funny. You’re messing with me. Where are the real clothes?"
Lena shook her head, her face deadpan. "I’m serious. That’s everything."
Kourtney stared at the pile of oversized cotton fabric in utter disbelief. "You’re telling me your entire wardrobe is... this? No wonder you haven’t come home with an army of mates yet."
"Maybe I don’t want an army of mates?" Lena muttered.
"Well, you’re getting a makeover," Kourtney insisted, reaching into the bag to dump the sweatshirts onto the counter. "You can’t show up to Sanatio Academy looking like a wannabe tomboy."
"No," Lena frowned.
She leaned against the prep table, her knuckles whitening. She was already dealing with the toxic stigma of the pack calling her a whore.
She still didn’t understand the strange, terrifying thing hidden inside her–the thing that could just leak out without her permission and turn normal wolves into desperate animals.
She didn’t even know how it had happened with Brandon that night. One minute he was normal, and the next, he had just—
A sudden chill raced down Lena’s spine, cutting the memory short. Her heart did a frantic flip.
"Fine, if you won’t buy new ones, I’ll lend you some of mine," Kourtney offered, completely missing Lena’s internal panic.
Lena slowly turned her head and sized Kourtney up. To say Kourtney wore clothes was a massive understatement. The twenty-one-year-old regularly paced around the pack house wearing nothing but a sports bra and incredibly short denim shorts.
"No offense, Kourt," Lena said, her dry, sarcastic humor slipping out, "but your wardrobe smells like pure desperation. If you actually want to attract any wolves, try acting like you don’t care if they exist."
Koko froze, a piece of folded clothing in her hand. She actually blinked, seriously considering the advice. "Wait... does that actually work?"
Before Lena could answer, the Luna’s personal announcer entered the kitchen and bowed.
"All staff clear the floor. Announcing the arrival of Luna Satire."
Lena rolled her eyes. The Luna was dramatic like this.
The double doors swung open. Luna Satire stepped into the kitchen, her eyes immediately locking onto Lena like a hawk sighting a field mouse.
Martha and Kourtney instinctively lowered their heads, stepping backward to excuse themselves. Kourtney grabbed Lena’s suitcase as she retreated, slipping through the back exit and leaving Lena standing completely alone under the Luna’s gaze.
After they left, the room grew silent.
"You won."
The words were dropped like a glass vial shattering against the kitchen tiles. Luna Satire didn’t look like a woman who had spent the night weeping to the moon goddess.
She looked composed, every blonde hair pinned perfectly into place, but her dark eyes were alight with a cold venom.
She let out a short, hollow half-laugh, stepping fully into the kitchen.
Lena stood her ground, her face entirely neutral. She didn’t know about the screaming match in the Alpha’s office last night. She had no idea that Luna Satire had desperately demanded they cut Lena’s hands off, only to be completely shut down by the Alpha.
All Lena knew was that the woman standing before her had spent seventeen years making her life a living hell.
The Luna had spent a lifetime treating her like a parasite, because she was terrified that history was repeating itself—first when Lena’s mother had disrupted her bond with the Alpha, and now when Lena’s strange, accidental pull had ruined Victoria’s fated bond with future Alpha Brandon.
"I don’t know what you mean, Luna Satire," Lena said levelly.
"Of course you don’t," Satire sneered, her fingers twitching against her designer handbag. She had gone to extreme, desperate lengths to ensure the Alpha belonged entirely to her, controlling every microscopic detail of Victoria’s life so her daughter wouldn’t suffer the same rejection. And now, the universe had handed the ultimate crown to the bastard child she hated.
The Luna took a sharp, steadying breath, forcing her rigid posture into a terrifyingly fake, maternal elegance. "The official transport from Sanatio Academy is outside. You are going to follow me. When we step past the threshold, the pack’s media will be waiting. You will smile for the cameras. And when I reach out, you will give me a hug like a grateful, grieving orphan. Understood?"
She didn’t wait for Lena to answer before turning on her heel and sweeping out of the kitchen.
Lena followed a few paces behind, her mind racing. As she crossed the main threshold into the grand foyer, a low-ranking maid rushed toward her, frantically shoving her canvas suitcase into her hands.
Lena blinked. Kourtney was done already? She gripped the handle, a sudden wave of suspicion hitting her. What kind of clothes had that crazy girl actually packed in here?
Before she could unzip the canvas to check, the maid panicked, her eyes darting toward the front doors. "Move, move, you’re wasting time! They’re waiting!"
"Okay, okay," Lena muttered, hoisting the bag.
But as she reached the foot of the sweeping marble staircase, a shadow fell over her. Lena’s gaze subconsciously swept up.
Victoria was standing halfway down the steps.
The first female Alpha heir wasn’t wearing her usual training gear. She looked stiff, her jaw set, her eyes red and swollen tracking Lena with a mixture of envy.
Lena didn’t give her much attention, assuming the Luna had forced Victoria down here just to put on a show of solidarity for the pack.
Victoria just stared, silently angry her father had opposed cutting Lena’s hands off.
Looking away, Lena followed the Luna through the grand double doors of the pack house.
The autumn morning air hit her face, but the courtyard was entirely packed. A black limousine was idling at the curb, its tinted windows reflecting the bright morning sun.
Surrounding the driveway were dozens of wolves, lifestyle bloggers, and seniors from her old school, all putting on cheerful, mandatory smiles for the pack’s public relations team.
Where were Martha and Kourtney?
The people she wanted to see before she left weren’t even here.
The Sanatio driver, a man dressed in a sharp charcoal suit, stepped forward and silently took Lena’s suitcase, tossing it into the rear trunk.
Luna Satire turned smoothly toward the crowd, a brilliant, radiant smile plastering across her face as the cameras began to flash.
She turned to Lena, opening her arms wide for the cameras, waiting for the submissive orphan to play her part.
"Go on, dear," Satire whispered through her teeth, her smile never wavering. "Make it look real."
When her gaze swept past Lena to Victoria, it soured quickly. "Fix your face, Victoria. You look weak. I spent seventeen years molding you to be a ruler, and you let a wolfless orphan take your birthright. If you had an ounce of your father’s blood in you, we wouldn’t be standing here catering to a bastard."
"A bastard?" Lena scoffed.
"Oh, where are my manners? You’re not just fatherless, you’re also motherless. Now get over here and hug me. I am your Luna, and I am commanding you. Do not test me in front of these cameras."
Lena stood her ground, her face entirely blank as she looked at the Luna’s outstretched arms. The command pressure didn’t even make her blink.
After everything she had endured, a fake embrace for a PR stunt was a joke.
But seriously, what was the worst she could do?
"Go fuck yourself," Lena said clearly.
She turned on her heel and walked right past the Luna’s open arms.
The crowd of lifestyle bloggers and PR handlers fell into an uncomfortable, stunned silence as the cameras caught the exact moment of the insult and rejection.
Lena didn’t look back to see the Luna force her smile back into place. She slid smoothly into the leather interior of the limousine, the heavy door clicking shut behind her, sealing out the toxic world of the North Ridge Pack forever.