CHAPTER 2

ELSPETH CROWHURST POV

"Watch out!" the carriage keeper yelled, slamming his hands against the wheel as the heavy vehicle skidded to a sudden halt.

Elspeth Crowhurst didn't hear the warning in time. blinded by the harsh glare of the morning sun and the burning humiliation in her chest, she stumbled directly into the path of the oncoming dark transport. The metal frame clipped her shoulder, sending her crashing hard onto the icy cobblestones outside the pack grounds. Pain flared through her hips, but the raw agony in her heart hurt far worse.

"What is the delay, Wilfred?" a deep, resonant voice demanded from the shadowy interior of the rear seat. The tone carried a natural, absolute authority that made the air itself feel heavy.

"I believe a female has collapsed beside our carriage, Alpha," Wilfred Hatherley replied nervously, peering through the side glass before quickly unlatching his door. "Let me inspect the situation."

Elspeth lay on the cold ground, her fingers digging into the frost-dusted stone. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to swallow down the suffocation in her throat. In less than half a day, her world had completely shattered. Her Moon-Bond Pact with Hadley Thornbury was destroyed, she had been framed with scandalous scrying photos, and she had signed away her standing just to protect her ailing father, Barnabas, in the Silverfang Pack Infirmary. And now, she was sprawling in the dirt like a rogue.

"Are you harmed, lady?" Wilfred asked softly, leaning down to offer a steadying hand as she grimaced.

"I can stand," Elspeth gritted out through clenched teeth.

She leaned against the side of the polished dark carriage, her body trembling with anger and fatigue. Everything had been stolen from her. Her dignity, her home, her bond. The sheer injustice of it all boiled over inside her blood. Driven by pure, unadulterated rage at the world, she raised her boot and kicked the heavy carriage wheel as hard as she could.

The sharp impact rattled up her leg, but the sheer release felt intoxicating. She pulled her leg back to strike the metal rim a second time when the tinted glass slid down with a smooth, silent hiss.

A male face emerged from the shadows.

Elspeth’s breath hitched in her throat. His features were sculpted with ruthless perfection—a sharp, angular jawline, dark piercing eyes, and an aura of supreme power that instantly pressed down on her wolf. Hadley had always considered himself a proud leader, but compared to the sheer, magnetic presence of the male sitting inside this carriage, Hadley was nothing.

"Her aggression proves she suffers no critical injuries," Alistair Wrenford said, his cold, calm voice cutting through the chilly air. "Provide her with compensation for the delay and clear the pathway."

The dismissive arrogance in his words instantly set Elspeth’s blood on fire.

"Do you think your standing gives you the right to treat people like trash?" Elspeth shouted, pointing a shaking finger directly at his face, completely uncaring of how wild she appeared in her torn tunic. "You think a handful of resources allows you to command everyone around you?"

Alpha Wrenford didn't bother to argue. His dark eyes gave her one impassive glance before he reached out and slid the glass back up, shutting her out entirely.

"Please, lady, accept these pack credits and seek a healer," Wilfred urged quickly, pulling a thick leather pouch of trade tokens from his belt and forcing it into her hands. "Our Alpha has urgent matters at the High Council. Please let us pass."

Elspeth stared at the heavy pouch in her hands. The metal tokens clinked together, heavy with the cold indifference of the male inside. Before the carriage keeper could climb back into his seat, Elspeth snatched the pouch, yanked open the rear passenger door, and hurled the entire leather bag straight at Alistair’s chest.

"Keep your blood money!" she snapped.

The leather pouch struck his chest and fell to the leather seat, spilling gleaming tokens everywhere.

Without waiting for his reaction, Elspeth turned on her heel and ran into the crowded market street, her torn cloak fluttering behind her.

Inside the carriage, Alistair Wrenford sat motionless as the heavy tokens settled around his boots. He brushed one off his lap, his gaze fixed on the retreating figure of the fierce, disheveled female disappearing into the crowd. A slow, subtle smirk touched the corner of his lips.

"Alpha... are you unharmed?" Wilfred asked from the front, his voice trembling in sheer terror at the breach of protocol.

"Pick them up," Alistair ordered calmly, his eyes never leaving the alleyway where she had fled.

She hadn't recognized him. Or perhaps the scent of the dark room from the night before hadn't registered in her distressed mind yet. He had entered the lodge seeking a quiet sanctuary, only to find a delicate, fiery female whose scent had instantly claimed his wolf. They had shared a night of wild, unrestrained passion, a heat that still burned in his veins. And now, here she was, throwing his own authority back in his face.

Elspeth Crowhurst, he thought, recalling the mark on her lineage records. You have no idea who you just struck.

Meanwhile, Elspeth ran through the winding stone paths of Frostwick City until her lungs burned with ice. She had nowhere to go, no pack house to welcome her, and no resources left to her name. Her chest heaved as she finally slowed down near a quiet stone archway, trying to catch her breath.

Suddenly, a heavy hand dropped firmly onto her shoulder from behind.

Elspeth gasped, spinning around in absolute terror as a dark figure stepped out from the shadows.