Fiona POV:

My demand hung in the air, swallowing the sound from the room.

Lady Rowena was the first to recover, letting out a short, sharp laugh like grinding glass. "A domestic dispute," she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. "A simple matter of a disobedient wife. This is my house, and you will be dealt with by my rules."

Bowen's brow furrowed, his brief moment of doubt erased by his mother's confidence. He straightened, his voice hardening. "You're stalling. You think if you make enough noise, you can distract us from what you did to Caitlynn."

He pulled his mistress closer, his misplaced pity for her a blindfold he wore willingly.

I didn't even glance at them. My attention was fixed on the doorway, where my handmaiden, Astrid Holt, stood silently.

"Astrid," I commanded, my voice clear and steady. "Go and fetch Doctor Elias Foster. Bring him here at once."

Astrid, a woman with a perpetually stern expression and eyes that missed nothing, gave a single, sharp nod. "Yes, Your Highness."

She turned to leave, but two of the hulking Mayer guards who had followed Bowen into the room moved to block her path, their hands resting on the hilts of their daggers. They looked to Lady Rowena for their orders.

Astrid didn't break stride. She met the gaze of the first guard with an expression of utter disdain and produced from her sleeve a small, silver disc. Engraved on its surface was the snarling wolf's head of the Blackwood royal family, cast in shadow—the sigil of the Shadow Guard.

The guard's face went slack with shock, his partner's eyes widened, and they both took an involuntary step back, clearing the path. The Shadow Guard answered only to the Alpha King. Their authority superseded any noble house, including the Mayers.

The color drained from Lady Rowena's face. Bowen's jaw went tight, a muscle twitching in his cheek. They had known, of course, that I was assigned a royal guard, but they had dismissed Astrid as just a maid—not an agent with the power to override their own household authority.

They had forgotten who I was: a princess of the blood, even a wolfless one.

Astrid walked out of the room without a backward glance, her footsteps echoing in the stunned silence. The balance of power in the room had just tilted, as audible as a crack of thunder.

Hidden in Bowen's embrace, Caitlynn's body gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shudder—the first tremor of fear.

I savored the shifting expressions on their faces, the shock and dawning unease. This was the first taste of a vengeance I had craved through the cold fog of death. It was intoxicating.

But this was only the beginning. I didn't just want to clear my name. I wanted to burn this entire arrangement to the ground.

I took two steps forward, closing the distance between myself and my husband. My gaze was calm, my heartbeat a slow, steady drum.

"Bowen Mayer," I said, the full name a deliberate distance. "You and your mother were so eager to condemn me, to believe the worst without a shred of proof. It seems there is no trust left between us."

He bristled at the formality. "Trust? After what you did?"

Lady Rowena shrieked, "You dare speak of trust, you murderous bitch!"

I let her insult wash over me, my focus remaining entirely on Bowen. "This union, forced upon me by my father, has been a mistake from the very beginning."

I took a deep breath, letting the memories of every humiliation, every lonely night, every whispered insult from my first life fuel the words to come. My spine straightened, my resolve hardening.

"Therefore, I am officially informing you," my voice cut through the silent room, "that I, Fiona Avery, demand we dissolve our union. Immediately."

The air in the room seemed to solidify.

Bowen's pupils contracted to pinpricks. He stared at me as if I had suddenly grown a second head. Dissolve the union? A wolfless princess, a political pawn, was daring to reject the heir of the powerful Mayer family? The insult was unthinkable.

Lady Rowena's mouth hung open, her face shifting from rage to a pasty, disbelieving white.

Even Caitlynn forgot to cry, her tear-filled eyes wide with astonishment.

Fiona POV:

"...What nonsense are you talking about?"

Bowen finally found his voice, a low, incredulous whisper that quickly curdled into rage. The air around him seemed to crackle with his fury.

He shoved Caitlynn aside; she stumbled with a small cry, catching herself on a dresser, her eyes flashing with resentment before she quickly rearranged her features into a mask of worried concern for him.

He stalked towards me, his broad shoulders squared, the oppressive aura of a Beta warrior rolling off him in waves. "Do you have any idea what you're saying, Fiona?" he snarled, looming over me. "This was a command from the Alpha King! Who do you think you are to defy it?"

I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze, but I didn't shrink away—not this time. In my past life, this posture, this menacing proximity, had been enough to reduce me to a weeping, begging mess. A memory surfaced: being locked in this room for days, Bowen standing over me just like this, demanding a confession for a crime I didn't commit. My pleas had only fed his contempt.

Never again.

A cold smile touched my lips. "A man who can't distinguish between his mate and his mistress has no right to question my judgment."

The insult hit its mark. A dark, angry flush crept up his neck, flooding his face, and his carefully controlled warrior's discipline shattered.

"You're asking for death!" he roared, his hand lashing out to grab my shoulder, to force me into submission through brute strength.

But I was no longer the slow, timid creature he remembered. Fueled by the phantom agony of my past, my body moved with a preternatural speed. I twisted sideways, his fingers grasping only air, and in the same fluid motion my own hand came up. I put every ounce of my resurrected will, every memory of pain and betrayal, into the swing.

Crack.

The sound was sharp and clean, echoing off the high ceilings—the most satisfying sound I had ever heard.

Everyone froze. Bowen's head was snapped to the side, a bright red handprint blooming on his cheek. He stood perfectly still, his mind clearly unable to process what had just happened: he, a trained warrior, had been struck by his wolfless, powerless wife.

Lady Rowena let out a piercing shriek. "You lunatic! You dare strike my son!" She scrambled towards us, her face a mask of apoplectic rage.

Caitlynn gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, but I saw it—a glint of malicious pleasure in her eyes before it was gone.

I shook my stinging hand, my gaze locked on Bowen's stunned face. That, I thought with vicious satisfaction, was for the Fiona you destroyed.

Out loud, I said, my voice dripping with ice, "Don't touch me. You disgust me."

That broke the spell. Raw, murderous intent flared in Bowen's eyes. His human reason fled, and the wolf within him began to surface, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

Lady Rowena, seeing her son about to lose control, threw herself between us, but her words were not meant to calm him—they were aimed at me. "Guards! Seize this madwoman! She has assaulted the heir of House Mayer! I invoke pack law! She will be dealt with here and now!"

The guards at the door shifted, their hands moving once more to their weapons, their faces a mixture of fear and grim duty. I felt no fear. Astrid was out; help was coming. All I had to do was wait.

Just as the guards took their first hesitant steps forward, as the tension in the room was stretched to its breaking point, a voice cut through the air. It was cold, calm, and carried an absolute, unquestionable authority.

"Who dares lay a hand on the Princess?"

Every head snapped towards the doorway.

A tall figure stood silhouetted against the light of the hall—a silent predator in the stark black uniform of the Shadow Guard. His face was harshly handsome, carved from stone, and his eyes held the chill of a frozen lake in winter, holding no warmth, only a chilling depth.

A wave of pure, unadulterated power washed into the room. A Gamma's aura. It dwarfed Bowen's Beta rage, crushing it into insignificance.

The Mayer guards felt it most acutely. Their knees buckled, looking as if they might collapse under it.

Lady Rowena's face went corpse-white. She recognized him.

"Kain... Hull?" she stammered, his name a fearful whisper on her lips. "The Gamma of the Shadow Guard... what are you doing here?"

Kain Hull ignored her completely. His gaze swept past them all, landing directly on me. For a single, breathtaking moment, the ice in his eyes seemed to thaw, replaced by something fiercely protective. And in that look, I knew I was safe.