Chapter 2

I wrenched my arm free.

"What I do is no longer your concern."

Vivian slithered forward. Her eyes gleamed.

"She is not just leaving, darling. I think she is stealing."

She pointed to a side table.

"My moonstone pendant. It was right there this morning. Now it is gone."

"I did not take anything."

"Search her," Caspian ordered. A cruel smile twisted his lips.

A warrior stepped forward. He yanked my leather satchel.

He dumped its contents onto the marble floor. My things scattered.

There, gleaming against the dark stone, was a teardrop moonstone.

Vivian's slap cracked across my face. My head snapped to the side.

"You thieving rogue!" she shrieked. I tasted blood.

I looked at Caspian. His face showed no doubt. Only vindicated triumph.

He believed her. Or wanted to.

"Pathetic," he spat. "Hold her. Theft of a sacred artifact goes to the Pack Council."

Rough hands clamped on my arms.

Then, a sound cut through the tension.

The deep, resonant purr of a powerful engine.

The crunch of gravel right outside the manor doors.

Everyone froze.

The front door was pushed open slowly.

Silas stood on the threshold.

He wore a tailored suit. Not pack robes.

His presence was a deep freeze. It wasn't just silence. It was the stillness that falls when a storm cloud gathers overhead. The air grew heavy, charged with an authority that made Caspian's Alpha aura feel like a child's tantrum in comparison.

It silenced the room completely.

His storm-grey eyes took in the scene. In the dim light, a ring of pure silver flashed briefly around his irises. The telltale sign of a Prime Alpha, a bloodline whose command was woven into the old laws.

The warriors holding me. The blood on my lip. The scattered bag. The moonstone on the floor.

"Release her."

The command was flat. Absolute.

Caspian found his voice. It was tight. He tried to inject his own authority, but it came out strained, the voice of a beta challenging a reigning Alpha.

"Uncle Silas. This is a Shadowmoon internal matter. She has stolen---"

"I said," Silas interrupted. His tone cut. It held the finality of a verdict, the kind that preceded execution, not debate.

"Release her."

The pressure in the room spiked. A wave of pure dominance rolled from Silas. Not the aggressive shove of a challenge, but the inexorable weight of a mountain settling. It was an assumption of control so complete it didn't need to be fought for.

The warriors' hands fell away from me as if burned.

Silas looked at me.

"Aurora. Are you hurt?"

I shook my head. My throat was too tight for words.

Vivian stepped forward. Foolishly brave.

"High Alpha Greyson, she stole my pendant! We found it on her!"

Silas looked at her. A slow, dismissive glance. He didn't just ignore her. He looked through her, as one would an insignificant insect. His gaze held a centuries-old weariness for such petty games.

He did not address her.

He looked back at Caspian.

"You accuse your former mate of theft. Based on what proof?"

Caspian faltered. The foundation of his anger crumbled under the sheer, uncompromising weight of Silas's presence. He wasn't being argued with. He was being judged.

"Vivian said it was hers. A gift from the seer."

"I see." Silas's voice was frost.

"No ledger entry. No guild certification. Only her word."

He walked into the room. He stopped before me. A solid wall between me and them.

"Did you take it?" He asked me. His eyes searched mine.

"No," I said. I let him see the truth. "I came only for my familiar."

He gave a slight nod.

Then he turned. His posture shifted. It became overwhelming.

Authoritative. This was the posture carved onto ancient stones, the stance of the first Alphas who parleyed with the moon itself.

"The accusation is baseless. Motivated by personal malice."

His voice carried effortlessly. It didn't need to be loud. It resonated in the bone, in the blood.

"Aurora Sterling is under the formal protection of the Silvercrest Line."

He let the words hang. Silvercrest. The name itself was a legend, a bloodline whispered to carry the moon's direct favor. Protection wasn't just a promise. It was a rewriting of her place in the world's hierarchy.

"Effective immediately."

He looked directly at Caspian.

"Any further harassment will be considered a direct challenge to my authority."

He paused. The pause was a chasm, and in it lay the ruins of lesser packs who had dared such a challenge.

"Is that understood?"

Caspian's face was a mask of stunned fury. Beneath the anger, a primal fear flickered. The instinctual recognition of a wolf facing not just a bigger rival, but its genetic superior.

"You cannot be serious! After what she did---"

"The matter between you is closed."

Silas's tone held finality.

"Her safety is now my concern."

He offered me his arm.

"Come. Let us retrieve your familiar."

We found Nyx shivering in a cold laundry room. I scooped her up. I held her close.

In his car, speeding away, Silas was quiet for a long moment.

"The protection is real," he finally said. His voice was quieter now, but the undercurrent of power remained, a deep hum in the silence.

"The offer for more stands. When you are ready. Without obligation."

He took me to his penthouse in the city.

"You will be safe here."

That night, I stood on the balcony. The scent returned.

Pine. Frost. Desperation.

He emerged from the shadows. He looked ragged.

"He is using you, Aurora. To get back at me."