CHAPTER 5: Blythe Everard POV

Blythe Everard pushed open the rusted double gates of the ancestral Everard Pack Manor. Frost coated the stone archways, and a thick layer of dust blanketed the long-abandoned halls where her late father had once ruled as an Alpha Elder.

She pulled off her leather gloves, tied an apron over her clothes, and began sweeping away six years of neglect.

Underneath a wooden bench near the cold hearth, her hand brushed against an old crystal framing slab. Blythe pulled it out, wiping away the grimy film to reveal a glowing portrait taken six years ago during the Moon-Bond ceremony. In the image, she was radiant, her golden eyes shining with hope. Beside her, High Alpha Caspian Northcott stood stiff and distant, his sharp jaw locked, dark impatience written in every line of his face.

Beside the frame lay her leather-bound pack journal.

Every page was filled with meticulous notes: Caspian’s preferred blood-meat cuts, his preferred battle wounds balm, the moon phases that triggered his feral rage, and the exact herbs needed to soothe his inner wolf.

For six long years, her entire life had revolved around serving a male who treated her like an unwanted parasite. She had destroyed her own pride, silenced her inner wolf, and sacrificed her bloodline dignity just to keep his home in order.

And reality had slapped her across the face with a silver blade.

Blythe lifted her chin, taking a sharp breath to freeze the hot tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

Her comms device vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and tapped the glowing rune to view a message from Cedric Bellrose.

‘Sovereign Everard, you saved my life in the borderlands six years ago when I was nothing but a starving Omega pup. Now, I stand as your Guardian. Reclaim your birthright and command me. Whatever you need, I am your shield.’

A wave of warmth swept through Blythe's chest as she read the words.

Cedric meant well, but she was done relying on male protection. For six years, she had buried her own lethal power to play the sweet, obedient wife. She had almost forgotten that before she took Caspian’s mark, she was the fiercest bloodline heir of the Everard Pack.

Blythe picked up her comms device and dialed Caspian’s direct private frequency.

"Blythe? What else could you possibly want from me?" Caspian’s deep, indifferent voice rang out through the receiver, heavy with annoyance.

Blythe’s voice was as smooth and cold as mountain ice, treating him like a complete stranger. "Tomorrow morning is the Full-Moon Bloodline Assembly at the Pack Council Hall. Be there at dawn to officially register our Moon-Bond Dissolution."

Caspian’s brows furrowed on the other end, his dark aura flaring. "You—"

Before he could utter another word, Blythe severed the connection, throwing the comms device onto the table.

Inside the primary suite of the Silvermere Moon Estate, Caspian stared blankly at his darkened screen, his jaw tightening in disbelief as the silence stretched between his fingers.

"Caspian? Who was on the line?" Calista Veyne called out softly from the fur-draped bed, looking over with wide, innocent eyes as he stood on the balcony.

Caspian shoved his device into his pocket, his face returning to its usual stern mask. He walked over to the bed and smoothed the thick wolf-pelt coverlet over her shoulders. "It was nothing. Drink your healing tonic first."

Calista’s pale face looked impossibly frail in the dim torchlight. She reached up, wrapping her small, delicate fingers around his massive hand, her lower lip trembling. "The wolfsbane potion is so bitter, Caspian. The taste makes my inner wolf recoil."

Caspian’s sharp features softened slightly. "When we were private mind-link correspondents during our youth, didn't you write to me that you were never afraid of bitter medicinal herbs? Drink it, Calista. You need your strength to recover from the silver-poisoning."

He spoke casually, but he failed to catch the sudden, sharp tremor that passed through Calista’s eyes or the way her grip on his wrist instantly tightened.

She quickly forced a sweet, helpless smile, her voice dropping into a gentle purr. "Of course, Caspian. You know I will always obey my Alpha."

Calista had been trapped in a silver-coma for six long years. Her frame was thin and her skin remained deathly pale, yet her soft, dependent nature was identical to the young female he remembered from their academy days.

Seeing her vulnerability stirred a deep, protective instinct inside his chest. "I will instruct Quincy Hartwell to have the pack apothecaries refine the potion into solid elixir tablets tomorrow."

Calista beamed, leaning forward to press her cheek against his arm. "You are the most ruthless High Alpha in the territory, but you are always so gentle with me."

Caspian remained by her bedside until her breathing evened out into deep sleep.

Stepping out into the grand hallway, Caspian headed downstairs, where Matriarch Honoria Northcott was carrying a steaming bowl of dragon-root broth toward the dining hall.

"Is Calista resting?" Honoria asked softly, setting the bowl down.

"She just finished her herbs," Caspian replied, his eyes dark with unreadable thoughts.

Honoria smiled approvingly, wiping her hands on her silk apron. "Caspian, her father is Alpha Grinstead of the Wolfsbane Industrial Works. The fact that he allowed us to bring Calista into our estate means he approves of your union. You must secure this alliance immediately and never let her feel neglected."

As Caspian watched his mother fret over Calista’s comfort, a strange, unwelcome memory flashed unbidden across his mind.

He remembered last winter, when Blythe had caught a severe lung frost after defending the perimeter.

His mother had thrown a furious tantrum downstairs, smashing porcelain plates and demanding her morning meal, forcing Blythe to drag her burning, feverish body down to the kitchens to cook for the entire household.

A sudden, uncomfortable knot formed in Caspian’s chest, but he instantly hardened his heart, crushing the thought before it could take root.

Blythe drove her transport into Calista's convoy six years ago, he reminded himself bitterly, his jaw clenching. She forced her way into my bed using her blood donation as leverage. She deserves no sympathy.

"Where is Benedict?" Honoria asked, glancing around the empty foyer. "I haven't seen him since he went to the Alpha Commerce Quarter."

The heavy iron front doors slammed open with a violent thud.

Benedict Northcott stormed into the foyer, his face dark with rage, his Beta eyes flashing amber as he hurled his leather gauntlets across the stone floor.

"Benedict! What in the Moon's name happened to you?" Honoria rushed forward, grabbing her younger son’s arms to inspect him for battle marks.

Benedict shoved his mother's hands away with a rough growl. "I'm fine, Mother! Leave me alone!"

He turned his furious, bloodshot eyes toward Caspian, his chest heaving with humiliation as he stepped up to his elder brother.

"Caspian! I saw that shameless b*tch Blythe at the Crimson Moon Den today!" Benedict spat, his voice shaking with anger. "She was draped all over a male model from the outer territories, acting like a heat-crazed female in front of the entire tavern!"

Caspian’s entire body went rigid. The air in the grand hall dropped to freezing in a single beat as his golden Alpha eyes flashed with lethal, possessive rage.

"Who was the male?" Caspian growled, his claws extending with a sharp snap.