Chapter 4

The iron gates of the manor slowly swung open under the glare of the headlights.

In the end, I chose to come back.

I had no desire to attend some ridiculous dinner, but while the north offered safety, certain debts needed to be settled right here in Silverpine.

Damian said nothing as he left the car key sitting on the leather seat, slipping the folder into the door's hidden compartment.

"The dinner is tomorrow night at seven in the east hall." That was the last thing he said before getting out of the car.

The main building of the manor loomed in the night like a slumbering beast.

The west wing blazed with light where William kept his private quarters, while the east wing remained dark and abandoned unless Damian visited. The south annex was for the butler and the household staff.

My bedroom sat at the far end of the north wing.

It was the most remote and neglected room in the entire house.

The heating pipes were always the last to warm up in the winter, and the loose window frames let rainwater seep down the plaster every summer.

When I pushed the door open, the room smelled exactly as I remembered, reeking of damp wallpaper, stale air freshener, and the wilting pot of lavender Selena had placed on my windowsill.

In my previous life, I spent three years treating that potted plant like a precious treasure.

I learned far too late that lavender suppressed an Omega's scent glands, and prolonged exposure kept an inner wolf trapped in a dormant state.

When Selena brought it to my room, she had said, "Your room smells terrible, Ella. This will help you sleep."

I grabbed the pot by its ceramic rim and hurled the plant, dirt and roots included, straight into the hallway trash bin.

The sharp crack of shattering ceramic echoed down the empty corridor, quickly followed by the sound of footsteps coming around the corner.

Robert, the butler, stood there holding a glass of water, glancing at the broken pieces on the floor without showing any emotion on his face.

"Miss Greyson, Mr. William Blackwood instructed me to tell you that you are expected to wear the gray gown for tomorrow's dinner," he said.

Gray was William's color of choice for me.

He always forced me into dull shades of gray, beige, and muted camel so that I would blend into the background like faded wallpaper without drawing anyone's attention.

Selena, on the other hand, showed up to every formal pack gathering draped in scarlet, royal blue, or emerald silk.

She strutted like a peacock to ensure every pair of eyes remained glued to her.

"Tell William," I said, grinding a shard of ceramic beneath my boot, "that I will be wearing black."

Robert's brows twitched at my response.

According to the Blackwood family tradition, only the Luna had the right to wear black.

"Miss Greyson, that is strictly—"

"I have not been stripped of my Luna title yet, have I?"

Robert shut his mouth.

I shut the door in his face; the lock clicked firmly into place.

The screen of my backup phone lit up in the room.

A new notification popped up on the display. It came through the nameless encrypted channel I had built into the device.

It connected me back to the underground intelligence network I ran for six years in my previous life, where my hacker handle, Ghost, commanded 1437 operatives in the shadows.

The message came from a contact known as Churchmouse.

It read: [I secured Blackwood Holdings' offshore records for March. The actual sum exceeds their declared filings by 1.5 million dollars; the timestamps match, and the money-laundering trail is solid. Awaiting your command.]

In my previous life, this lead surfaced far too late, remaining hidden until another hacker syndicate exposed the Blackwoods two years after my death.

In this life, the leverage was already in my hands.

My thumb hovered over the screen as I considered my next move.

The timing was not quite right yet.

I needed to make my opening move at the dinner tomorrow, saving the money-laundering as my final card.

I typed back: [Stand by. Don't alert anyone.]

The screen went dark.

Outside, the moon broke through the cloud cover and cast a pale beam across the northern windowsill, illuminating the gray water ring where the pot had sat.

The low hum of an engine echoed from the driveway below.

I walked over to the window and looked down through the glass.

A dark SUV was parked on the driveway at the back of the manor.

The headlights cut off, and the driver's side door swung open.

Damian stepped out into the night and tilted his head up toward my third-floor window.

Across the distance between us, his golden-brown eyes caught the moonlight and gleamed with striking intensity.

Our gazes locked in the silence of the night.

He didn't look away.

He stood motionless in the moonlight with his hands resting in his pockets, tall and steady like a rooted cedar tree.

Five seconds passed between us.

Ten seconds drifted by without either of us breaking the stare.

Deep within my consciousness, my inner wolf stirred once more, offering more than a single word this time as she let out a low, tentative whimper. 'He smells like home.'

*****

The invitation to the Council of Elders dinner was pure black cardstock, with a gold-embossed wolf emblem right in the center.

This invitation went out once a year, its guest list personally vetted by the Alpha King.

In the three years I lived with the Blackwoods, I had never received one.

Tonight was the exception because William needed an audience to witness his move.

Crystal chandeliers blazed across the east hall, illuminating a long table draped in deep crimson velvet. Twelve chairs accommodated the twelve pack elders, leaving the head seat reserved for the Alpha King, William's father, Richard Blackwood.

Since Richard suffered a stroke last year and withdrew from public life, William occupied the seat in his place.

When I walked into the hall, every pair of eyes locked onto my black gown.

A silver-haired woman seated in the third chair along the right side of the table set her wine glass down. That was Helen Blackwood, one of the council's senior members and William's aunt.

"William, your Luna looks different tonight," Helen said.

Her voice carried a calculating edge, as if she were weighing my worth on a scale.

William sat at the head of the table, his impeccably tailored black suit making his features look as cold as carved marble.

He spared me a single glance.

It lasted less than a second.

What flickered in his eyes was not anger, but a cold irritation, like a player discovering that a pawn had moved across the board on its own.

"Ella hasn't been feeling well, and she initially preferred to rest," William lied smoothly.

Yet the underlying threat in his tone was meant for me alone, warning me that I should never have worn black.

Selena sat near the head of the table beside William's seat, wearing a burgundy velvet gown and the heirloom ruby necklace that rightfully belonged to the Luna.

I had never worn that piece in my previous life.

William had lent it to Selena two months after our wedding, claiming that the jewels suited her neck far better than mine.