Bree Fitzpatrick POV: "The pup is gone, and your reproductive vitality is severely damaged. It will be nearly impossible for you to conceive again." The old pack doctor's sigh echoed in the underground clinic on the outskirts of the Silverthorn Pack territory as he carried away the blood-stained surgical tray. I forced my heavy eyelids open. The harsh smell of disinfectant hit my nose at the same time a tearing cramp gripped my lower abdomen. Shivering, I pressed my ice-cold palm against my flat stomach. The faint double pulse that had beaten there hours ago was completely gone. I bit down hard on my pale lower lip to trap my inner wolf's whimper. Hot tears soaked silently into the coarse sheets while an invisible hand squeezed my heart so tightly I could barely breathe. Suddenly, the holographic television mounted on the wall flickered on, broadcasting an urgent pack entertainment bulletin. On the screen, Gerard Hogan—the supreme Alpha of the Silverthorn Pack and billionaire CEO of our corporate empire—was carefully shielding Demetra Shelton as they walked out of the Pack Central Hospital. In our society, where genetics permanently dictated rank from birth, Gerard stood at the absolute pinnacle, yet his chiseled face held a nervous tenderness I had never seen before. He even lowered himself to pull the expensive coat tighter around Demetra, the manipulative Beta woman everyone worshiped as his life-saving benefactor from the fire five years ago. My private terminal on the nightstand buzzed sharply. Gerard's name flashed on the screen. Pressing a hand against my cramping belly, I swiped to answer. His low, freezing voice came through immediately. "Clean yourself up. Be at the ancestral estate for the family banquet in thirty minutes." My throat felt dry and tight. "Gerard, I'm really unwell today, can I..." "Bree, drop your pathetic excuses," he cut in, his voice pouring over me like a bucket of ice water from head to toe. "Grandpa will be there tonight. As my nominal Luna, if you dare embarrass the Hogan family by skipping, the Fitzpatrick workshop in the East District shuts down tomorrow." From his end of the line, Demetra's soft, fragile voice drifted over. "Gerard, I feel so dizzy. Could you carry me back to the car?" Gerard didn't bother replying to me. Instead, he unleashed his Alpha's Command directly through our pack mind-link. Because genetic rank was absolute, no lower-ranking wolf within the same pack could resist an Alpha's order. The crushing dominance slammed into my mind, forcing my weak Omega body to tremble as my bones groaned under the pressure. The call disconnected with a sharp click, leaving a ringing silence in the empty ward. I arched my back violently, the brutal mental backlash forcing a mouthful of bright red blood into my throat. The old doctor rushed over and gripped my shoulders. "You are still bleeding heavily! You cannot get out of bed!" I wiped my mouth, my face drenched in cold sweat, and gave a bitter laugh. "If I don't go, my family will be reduced to ruins tonight." I yanked the IV needle straight out of the back of my hand. Cold medication mixed with red blood dripped from my fingertips onto the cement floor. Bracing my trembling arms against the mattress, I stood up, my legs buckling until my knees nearly hit the floor. Enduring the relentless twisting pain in my belly, I pulled open the locker and changed into a conservative black long dress. In the mirror, my face looked as pale as a ghost, with dark shadows under my eyes. Near my temple, the crescent-shaped white scar from a silver burn five years ago showed faintly through my hair. Silver was the only fatal weakness to werewolves, capable of destroying our healing ability and our inner wolf. I dug a tube of bright red lipstick from my bag and smeared it heavily over my bloodless lips to hide my dying state. Outside the window, a gale howled across the territory, and heavy rain hammered against the glass. I pushed open the heavy clinic door. Freezing rain soaked through my thin dress right away. By the curb, the pack driver stood beside a black town car and pulled the rear door open with a blank expression, not even sparing me a glance. I climbed into the backseat, my wet hem sticking to the cold leather. As the car sped up the winding mountain road toward the main castle, I leaned my head against the glass, remembering the day two years ago when I was forced into this mate contract. The shelter my father had begged for to save my life had become my execution ground. The car slowed down as the massive Hogan castle loomed through the lightning flashes. "Madam, we have arrived. Please enter the main hall immediately," the driver said stiffly. I took a deep breath of the rain-soaked air, pushed the door open, and stepped onto the marble stairs outside the main hall.

Bree Fitzpatrick POV: My rain-soaked heels clicked against the marble corridor as I climbed the steps into the main hall, every step sending a fresh wave of cramping agony through my lower belly. On both sides of the entrance, burly Gamma guards—whose genetic rank gave them combat strength second only to the Alpha—glanced at me coldly, looking at me like a lowly intruder rather than their Luna. Arthur, the estate butler, pulled open the heavy carved oak doors. Warm golden light and loud chatter washed over me. The long banquet table was packed with core members of the Hogan family, while two empty seats near the head of the table stood out starkly. Former Luna, Edrie Hogan, held a cup, her sharp gray eyes sweeping over my dripping hem with open disgust. Beside her, my sister-in-law, Cecelia Hogan, let out a loud sneer. "Well, look who finally decided to show up." I straightened my spine, walked into the hall, and lowered my eyes in a respectful bow. "I'm sorry. The storm delayed traffic on the mountain road." Edrie slammed her cup onto the saucer. The sharp crack silenced the entire room. "Knowing tonight is a formal pack banquet, you deliberately show up looking like a drowned rat. Are you trying to humiliate the Hogan family in front of the Elders?" Edrie snapped. "Don't flatter her," Cecelia chimed in, her voice dripping with venom. "She's just a lowly Omega who schemed her way into marriage by forcing a blood debt. You can't wash the cheap blood out of her bones." Several distant relatives chuckled around the table, watching me like I was cheap entertainment. I dug my fingernails deep into my palms until my knuckles turned pale, fighting back the dizziness from my ongoing blood loss. Even if an Omega married an Alpha, her genetic rank never changed, making me an easy target in this house. Edrie pointed a manicured finger toward a small wooden stool near the kitchen serving passage at the far end of the hall. "Since you know your lowly place, go sit over there. Don't ruin the custom tablecloth at the main table." That stool was meant for omega servants waiting to clear dishes. I clenched my jaw, swallowed the metallic taste in my throat, and dragged my heavy legs toward that humiliating corner without a word. Cold sweat slid down the back of my neck into my collar. I sat down on the hard wooden stool, hiding my hands under the folds of my black dress to press against my spasming stomach. The main doors swung open again. Gerard strode in wearing a bespoke black suit, his overwhelming Alpha aura filling the room. Tucked closely into the crook of his arm was Demetra in a pale pink silk gown, the vine tattoo above her left collarbone peeking out under the chandelier light. Edrie's harsh face instantly melted into a warm smile as she stood up. "Demetra, come sit by me! How did the checkup go? Is the little pup doing well?" Demetra leaned shyly against Gerard's shoulder, speaking in a soft, syrupy tone. "The doctor said the baby is very healthy. It's all thanks to Gerard staying by my side every second." Gerard pulled out a chair for Demetra before his cold gaze swept across the hall and landed on me in the corner. Seeing me sitting on the servant's stool soaked to the bone, his dark brows twitched slightly, only to smooth back into icy indifference a second later. "Demetra, you are the only Luna our family recognizes," Cecelia said, handing her a glass of warm water. "Someone shamelessly hogging the title should have rolled out of here long ago." Demetra quickly waved her hands, her eyes reddening as she looked at me. "Cecelia, please don't say that. Bree is Gerard's legally bound wife. I'm... I'm just an outsider." Gerard's expression darkened at her words, his voice dropping to a freezing octave. "There is no need to humble yourself in front of her. She doesn't deserve to be compared to you." Every word he spoke felt like an icy stone smashing against my chest. I stared down at the dark water dripping from my hem onto the floor, biting my lip to keep from making a sound. Suddenly, my lower abdomen contracted violently. A warm gush of blood slid down my inner thighs, soaking into the thick black fabric of my dress. I doubled over on the stool, my fingernails scratching deep grooves into the wood as black spots danced across my vision. Just as I was about to pass out onto the floor, the heavy thud of a cane echoed from the inner hall, bringing the noisy banquet to an instant standstill as Chief Elder, Cornelius Hogan, stepped out.

Bree Fitzpatrick POV: At over seventy years old, Cornelius still stood tall, his black ironwood wolf-bone cane striking the floor tiles with a heavy thud. Across the hall, everyone—including arrogant Gerard and domineering Edrie—immediately lowered their heads in a respectful bow. Cornelius swept his sharp brown eyes across the room until his gaze locked onto me shivering on the servant's stool in the corner. "How absurd!" The former Alpha roared, his lingering high-ranking dominance making the air in the hall feel thick and heavy. Edrie's face stiffened as she forced a polite smile. "Walk slowly. We were just joking around with the children." "Joking? Driving the legally bound granddaughter-in-law of this pack to a servant's stool—is that the Luna etiquette you learned for thirty years?" Cornelius barked. He turned his stern glare straight onto Gerard. "Gerard, bring your mate to sit beside you. Immediately!" Gerard's jawline flexed, irritation flashing across his eyes, but even the reigning CEO could not openly defy the Chief Elder at a family banquet. He strode over to my corner in a few long steps and extended his right hand, a luxury watch glinting on his wrist. "Get up. Don't make me say it twice," he muttered under his breath. I tried to push myself up, but my blood-drained legs gave out, and my body lurched sideways. A mocking sneer crossed Gerard's face as he roughly grabbed my wrist and yanked me up from the stool. His palm was burning hot, yet the touch brought none of the electric sparks fated mates were supposed to feel—only a cold, dead ache. He dragged me to the main table and shoved me into the chair right across from Demetra. Demetra bit her lip pitifully, lowering her eyelashes to hide the dark glint in her eyes as her fingers twisted her napkin under the table. Cornelius gestured for a servant to bring over a steaming bowl of tonic soup, pushing it toward me himself. "Why is your face so pale? Drink this while it's hot to nourish your wolf." Our high metabolism required heavy energy tonics, especially during the autumn chill. However, as the thick smell of meat and herbs hit my nose, my empty, traumatized stomach twisted violently. I slapped a hand over my mouth and gagged, pushing the bowl about a centimeter away. "I'm sorry... I really can't keep it down right now." Beside me, Gerard's face turned as dark as storm clouds, his temples throbbing with veins. It looked like he assumed I was deliberately throwing a tantrum in front of the elders to embarrass him and compete with Demetra for attention. Gerard snatched up the spoon, scooped up the boiling soup, and shoved it hard against my lips. "Open your mouth and drink it," he growled low enough for only me to hear. I clamped my lips shut and turned my head away, tears of pain stinging the corners of my eyes. "I said I can't." Crack! Gerard threw the spoon back into the bowl, splashing hot broth across the polished wood table. Around us, several elders frowned and whispered about my lack of gratitude. Cornelius let out a heavy sigh and waved his hand. "Since she is unwell, the banquet ends here. Gerard, take your wife back to her room to rest." The family members filed out one by one. The second Grandfather's footsteps faded into the inner hall, Gerard grabbed the back of my neck and dragged me out of the dining room into the dim side corridor. He slammed my back against the freezing stone wall. Pain shot through my spine as his tall frame caged me in, his furious cedarwood Alpha pheromones crashing over me like a tidal wave. "Bree, putting on an act in front of the whole clan—do you think having Grandpa's backing means I can't do anything to you?" He pinched my chin between his fingers, squeezing so hard my jawbone felt ready to crack. I stared straight into his eyes, which had shifted into glowing golden wolf slits, and let out a cold laugh. "When have you ever held back?" My defiance snapped his control. Gerard lowered his head and crushed his mouth against mine. There was no warmth in the kiss, only brutal punishment and suffocating dominance. He pried my lips apart, the metallic taste of blood spreading between our teeth as my hands pushed weakly against his chest. Just as I twisted my head to break free, the private terminal in his suit pocket erupted with a shrill, custom ringtone.