C5

"Do you truly think a disgraced human-born can stand in the grand foyer of Calloway Manor and bark orders like an Alpha?" Grayson Mercer sneered, his amber Beta eyes flashing with outright disgust as he adjusted the cuffs of his Mercer Security Detail uniform.

I shifted my weight, letting the sheer presence of my broad, plus-size frame anchor me to the polished stone floor of the foyer. Deep within my chest, the ancient Apex Silvershift gene—awakened the moment I woke up in this body after the real Harper Calloway perished—hummed with a dark, lethal heat. The Ironfang Front had forged me in blood and silver; I was no longer the fragile, desperate girl they had beaten into the dirt.

"As a woman raised under the strict pack laws of the Calloway Bloodline, original Harper was taught never to raise her voice," I said, my voice dropping into a dangerous, icy purr that echoed through the high ceilings. "But now that I am the Harper Calloway who survived the wolfsbane poison in Ravenshade City, I find I quite enjoy telling scum exactly what they are."

Grayson’s face stiffened abruptly, the color draining from his cheeks.

Beside him, Mallory Callahan grew deathly pale. Her body trembled like a delicate leaf in a mountain gale, and she collapsed mournfully into Grayson’s arms, sobbing against his chest. "Sister, I didn't mean to do it! I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean for those terrible photos on RavenNet to leak to the whole Nightcrest Pack!"

At the mention of the misleading hotel photos, Grayson’s expression hardened into pure revulsion. The look he threw me was dripping with hatred. "Mallory, you don't have to beg for forgiveness from this creature. A disgraced human-born who runs with rogue wolves is entirely to blame for her own downfall!"

The corners of my lips curled into a cold, ruthless smile. There was not a single trace of guilt or pain in my eyes. I looked down at Grayson from the bottom of the grand staircase, my blue eyes hollow and mocking.

"Tell me, Beta," I murmured, stepping closer until the heavy scent of my awakened blood made him flinch. "As a male who claims warrior blood, how does it feel to be complete and utter trash?"

Grayson’s jaw clenched so hard his fangs nearly broke through his lip. "You are utterly shameless, Harper!"

"I may be shameless," I replied smoothly, sweeping a critical glance over Mallory’s trembling form, "but my face is clean, my bloodline is pure ancient silver, and my spirit isn't rotten. Compared to me, the mistress's daughter you're holding is nothing more than flatland filth."

Mallory’s sweet, tragic mask cracked. She stared at me in shock, her breath catching in her throat.

In the past, original Harper lived only for Grayson’s approval. She suffered every humiliation in silence just to keep a scrap of his affection. But that weak girl was dead. I had returned from the dead to drag every single one of them into the abyss.

Without giving them another glance, I turned on my heel and headed upstairs toward original Harper's old quarters.

The room was freezing, stripped of every comfort by Tessa Calloway after my mother, Eleanor Calloway, passed away. I walked over to the heavy oak desk and yanked open the master drawer. My fingers searched the hidden compartment behind the silver lining, but the velvet casing was empty.

The bloodline script—the ancient ancestral runic manual left to me by Eleanor Calloway—was gone.

A deadly crimson flash ignited in my eyes. I didn't waste time searching the room further. I turned around and strode straight back down the stairs.

In the lower hall, Tessa Calloway was carefully applying soothing ointment to Mallory’s wrist where I had struck her earlier. Malcolm Calloway stood near the hearth, while Grayson sat rigid on the leather sofa, his eyes burning as he watched me descend.

"Hand over the ancestral script you stole from my drawer, Mallory," I commanded, stopping at the base of the stairs.

Mallory blinked rapidly, putting on her most innocent, confused face. "Sister, what script? I haven't stepped foot near your room! Nanny Clara must have misplaced it when she cleaned."

Tessa spat toward the floor, her eyes ugly with malice. "What ancestral script?! You were born human, Harper! You can't even read runic script, let alone write it! You're just making up lies to slander my daughter!"

I took a slow, deep breath, suppressing the sudden spike of killing intent that threatened to snap my restraint. These parasites had taken Harper's mother, stolen her home, destroyed her reputation, and now they wanted to rob her of her mother's final legacy.

Mallory stood up, taking a step toward me with a soft, helpless sigh. "Sister, please don't be angry. If you lost something, I will help you look—"

She leaned in close, ensuring Grayson couldn't see her face, and her lips curved into a vile, silent whisper: I took your mother's script, you fat human pig. What are you going to do about it?

SNAP!

My hand moved faster than a striking viper. The crack of my palm against Mallory’s cheek echoed violently through the stone hall. The sheer force of my attack sent her flying sideways, crashing hard onto the marble floor.

"Mallory!" Tessa and Grayson roared in unison.

Grayson launched himself off the sofa, his Beta claws extending as his fist hurtled directly toward my face.

I didn't even flinch. I tilted my head back half an inch, my cold, dead blue eyes locking onto his. The sheer military dominance rolling off my soul stopped his fist three centimeters from my skin. Grayson froze, a sudden, primal terror paralyzing his muscles as he stared into the eyes of a killer who had walked through battlefield trenches.

I stepped past his frozen fist, grabbed Mallory by her silk collar, and yanked her face up to mine.

"You stole my father's loyalty, you stole my home, and you stole my betrothal," I whispered, my voice slicing through her like silver blade edges. "You can keep that garbage. But there are things in this world that belong only to the strong!"

I shoved her back to the floor in disgust, pulled a dark silk handkerchief from my pocket, and slowly wiped my fingers clean before tossing the cloth directly onto her face.

"Keep the script for now, Mallory," I spat. "Because very soon, I will make you kneel in front of the entire Bloodfang Assembly, crying blood as you beg me to take it back!"

Without waiting for Malcolm’s roar or Tessa’s shrieks, I walked straight out of Calloway Manor into the crisp mountain air of Ravenshade City.

Outside the iron gates, a sleek, armored obsidian vehicle was idling by the curb. The rear door clicked open, and Edwin Parker stepped out, bowing his head respectfully. "Young Madam, Alpha Whitmore has requested that you return to Mooncrest Manor for your midday meal."

I paused, a faint, bitter smile touching my lips. It was still surreal—being bound to the most dangerous Apex Alpha in Frostmoon Territory. I stepped into the leather interior, resting my hands over the silver-bound chest I had managed to secure.

When the car pulled into the courtyard of Mooncrest Manor, the heavy wooden doors swung open. Asher Whitmore was already seated at the massive dark oak table inside the main hall. His tall, imposing frame was draped in a dark fur-trimmed coat, his golden eyes glowing with a terrifying, ancient power as he watched me enter.

He didn't ask how the confrontation went. He simply pulled out the heavy carved chair beside his own.

I sat down, crossing my legs beneath the dark blue silk of my gown. "You don't need to wait for me if I am delayed by pack business."

Asher’s heavy gold gaze locked onto mine, his thumb absently tracing the rim of his crystal glass. "You went into the wolf's den empty-handed, Harper. Did you expect me to eat while my mate was out hunting?"

"It was an inconvenience," I said softly, taking a sip of the warm herbal broth set before me. "I will retrieve what is mine in due time."

Asher leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he picked up a crimson-bordered document from the edge of the table—a copy of the public announcement detailing how Grayson Mercer had broken our betrothal at the Grand Ravenshire Hotel.

"Do you still harbor lingering thoughts for that Beta scum?" Asher asked, his baritone voice dropping an octave, causing the shadows in the room to lengthen with his dark wolf's jealousy.

I looked directly into his golden eyes, my pulse completely steady.

"Give me five days, Alpha," I said, a lethal smile touching my lips. "Five days from now, at Victor Mercer's birthday banquet in the Blackthorn Grand Hall, I will personally shatter that broken bond in front of the entire Nightcrest Pack."