Serena POV

The storm hammered the wooden shingles of the roof with a dull, percussive rhythm; the groaning of the pipes in the walls made the room sound like a sinking iron coffer.

The heavy rainfall had completely washed out the dirt road leading to the Healer's cabin in the woods. There was no way for me to go out and buy more potion.

I dragged my burning body onto the sofa, curling into a tight ball. Every bone in my body felt like it was being crushed into powder and pieced back together with rusty nails.

I pulled out my smartphone with trembling fingers to distract myself from the agony.

I opened PackNet, that encrypted social network used by the modern werewolf.

My notification bell was flashing red.

My reply from the night before, posted in the moments after Jason had left me for dead, had spread like wildfire.

Dozens of wolves from other packs had commented.

“Why didn't your future Mate pick you up?” one user asked.

“A true male would never let his female walk through Rogue territory alone,” another wrote.

I stared at the screen, a bitter taste rising in my mouth. I remembered calling Jason from the edge of the woods, begging him to come get me. He had told me he was overwhelmed with crucial pack business and that I needed to find my own way back.

I scrolled further down the comment section.

A user replied to my post with a screenshot. “You should buy your own car, girl. Look at the Crescent Pack's new darling. Her Alpha boyfriend just bought her a ride as a token of his power.”

I zoomed in on the screenshot. The profile picture belonged to Chloe.

My heart pounded a slow, painful rhythm against my ribs as I tapped on her public account.

Chloe was a famous socialite on PackNet, boasting over a million followers.

I clicked on her most recent video uploads. In almost every video since she joined Jason's company, there were subtle hints of a male presence. A large, muscular hand wearing a familiar silver watch. A deep, rumbling Alpha voice laughing in the background.

The comment sections were flooded with people shipping them.

“You guys are definitely the future Alpha and Luna!” one comment read.

Chloe had replied to that comment with two words: “Guess who.”

It was a blatant display of female territorial dominance. She was releasing mating signals to the entire digital werewolf world.

My breathing grew shallow as I clicked on a video posted just an hour ago.

It was Jason, sitting on a strange, expensive leather sofa. He was gently blowing on a bowl of hot soup.

“A sports car is a she-wolf's confidence,” Jason's voice said softly to the camera. “You deserve the best.”

The screen's piercing white light suddenly felt like a welder's torch against my retinas. I shoved the device from my lap with the back of my hand, desperate for the surrounding darkness to reclaim the room.

Just last year, I had asked Jason if we could buy a small, used car so I would not have to walk home in the dark. He had sternly refused, telling me that he would always fulfill his male duties and drive me. Yet, just last month, he complained to his friends that picking up an Omega maid from work was embarrassing for his image.

The fever ravaged my body, but my mind had never been clearer.

Then, something impossible happened. A cool, silver light flickered beneath my skin—like moonlight trapped in my veins. The burning heat in my bones began to ebb, just slightly, as if an ancient healer had laid hands on me from within.

I picked up my phone from the floor. My fingers were steady now, not with the tremors of sorrow, but with the rigid certainty of purpose.

I typed a reply to the user who suggested I buy a car.

“You are right. I will buy my own car tomorrow.”

As I pressed send, I felt my wolf stir for the first time in years—not in pain, but in awakening.

Serena POV

I was jolted awake by the aggressive blaring of my phone's ringtone.

My clothes were soaked in cold sweat, but the agonizing heat in my bones had miraculously subsided. Where the silver should have killed me, only a faint, warm ache remained. Something had saved me—something old and powerful.

I answered the call. It was Valerie, my best friend, a fierce Gamma Warrior who guarded our borders.

“Serena! Are you insane?” Valerie's voice roared through the speaker. “Why didn't you take the potion? And why is Jason blocking my Mind-Link like a dead wolf?”

I slowly sat up, touching my forehead. It was cool.

“Jason took all the potions for Chloe,” I said, my voice eerily calm.

“He did what?!” Valerie snarled, the sound of a vicious animal vibrating in her throat.

I closed my eyes. I remembered my first Shift when I turned eighteen. I had been in so much pain that winter night. Jason had shifted into his massive brown wolf, carrying me on his back through the snow to find the Healer. He had spent the entire night releasing his soothing cedar wood pheromones to comfort me.

That Jason was dead. The man who left me to suffer from silver poison yesterday was a stranger.

I looked down at my hands. A faint, pure white glow seemed to hover over my skin before vanishing.

I did not know it then, but the extreme emotional trauma had cracked a genetic seal inside me. The ancient, legendary White Wolf bloodline—said to be the direct descendants of the Moon Goddess with supreme healing powers—was slowly waking up in my veins.

“Valerie, can you come with me today?” I asked, standing up steadily. “I am going to purchase a motorcar.”

“A car? But Jason always said…” Valerie paused, her warrior instincts picking up on my tone. “I will be right there.”

An hour later, Valerie and I were standing in a high-end auto dealership.

I told her everything. The videos, the soup, the limited-edition sports car he promised Chloe.

Valerie's pupils dilated instantly, swallowing the edges of her irises until, in the showroom's harsh light, they took on the fractured, mineral quality of shattered amber.

“That bastard,” she hissed, her claws extending slightly from her fingertips. “I will tear his throat out. You need to cut ties with him right now, Serena.”

“I know,” I said softly.

I pulled out my phone and sent Jason a formal text message.

“We are done. Do not contact me again.”

I then arranged payment for a sleek, black motorcar, liquidating the savings I had so carefully hoarded for what was to have been our wedding. The dealer assured me the vehicle would be prepared and ready for collection the following afternoon.

Afterward, Valerie drove me straight to a real estate office and I rented a beautiful apartment far outside the Crescent Pack's territory.

We celebrated with a huge plate of roasted meat at a diner.

When night fell, I drove back to the packhouse to gather my belongings. Valerie stayed downstairs, leaning against her jeep to keep watch.

I walked up the stairs and pushed open the door to the apartment I had shared with Jason for five years.

The lights were off.

Suddenly, the air grew thick, pressing down with a suffocating weight that made each breath a labor.

Jason was sitting on the living room sofa in the dark. The ambient light from the window seemed to bend around him, and his eyes held no reflection, only a flat, possessive darkness.

He was projecting the full weight of his rank, preparing to interrogate me.

I stopped in the doorway, my hand tightening on the doorknob. My wolf did not cower. She only watched—and waited.