CHAPTER 6

Clara Pov

My fingers trembled as I sealed the envelope bearing the royal Lycan crest.I stared at the parchment—crisp, cream-colored, elegant—and yet it felt heavier than stone in my hands. Inside was an invitation. Not to a celebration. Not to a wedding. But to war.A war I had been preparing for ever since I clawed my way out of the river five years ago—gasping, broken, but alive.Alive… and furious.I adjusted the pen on the table, careful to keep my expression neutral as my Beta, Sora, approached.“Is it done?” she asked, glancing down at the last of the invitations.I nodded. “He’ll receive it tonight.”Her lips tightened. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Clara? Seeing him again… Lucas“—is no longer my mate,” I said, my voice sharp enough to slice through steel. “He made that choice the moment he marked me with bruises instead of love.”I could still feel the phantom ache of his grip, the suffocating weight of being trapped in that gilded prison he called a pack. The rejection hadn't come with words—but with actions, with his cruelty, his indifference, the way he’d broken me down until there was nothing left but ashes.But I had risen from those ashes.The women I lead now—warriors, survivors, omegas who had been cast aside—were proof of that. I had found strength in the wilderness, in the shadows, in my freedom. And now… now I would take back everything that had been stolen from me.Even if I had to use Ryker Moretti to do it.The thought made my stomach twist. Ryker was no savior. He was as ruthless and cunning as his brother, if not worse. But he was willing to make a deal. And I needed that—an alliance strong enough to shatter Lucas's kingdom and burn his legacy to the ground.We had negotiated the terms of our engagement like generals at a war table.No love. No bond. Just strategy.Still, I wasn’t prepared for the look Ryker gave me when I handed him the invitation for Lucas. A knowing smirk played on his lips.“He won’t take this well,” he said, turning the envelope over. “You’ve always been the only thing he couldn’t control.”I met Ryker’s eyes.“Good.”Hours later, I stood on the balcony of my estate, watching the moon bathe the forest in silver light. My thoughts drifted to him.To Lucas.To the way his eyes had once softened when no one else was watching. To the way he held me,possessive, but never gentle. To the night Ijumped into the river to escape him, knowing death would be kinder than a lifetime in his arms.I wondered if he still dreamt of me. If he still woke up gasping, haunted by my absence.I hoped he did.I hoped the invitation tore him apart.And when he saw me again, standing beside his brother as his future queen.I hoped it destroyed him.The wind picked up around me, tugging strands of my hair free from the braid I’d tied tight this morning. I welcomed the chill—it grounded me. Reminded me that I was no longer the broken girl who once flinched at a raised voice or held her breath when footsteps echoed down the hall.Now, others flinched when I entered the room."Clara." Sora's voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. I turned to see her standing just inside the threshold of the balcony, her expression unreadable."Say it," I murmured."Are you doing this for revenge?" she asked softly. “Or are you doing it because… part of you still wants him to see you? To feel what he lost?I turned back to the moonlight, the anger in me flickering like an oil lamp catching wind. The truth? I didn’t know anymore. Maybe it was both. Maybe it didn’t matter.

“Does it change anything?” I asked.She shook her head. “No. But I needed to know where your heart stands before we step into the lion’s den.”My heart. I didn’t even know if I had one left.But I said what she needed to hear. “My heart stands with our people. With the women he discarded. With every omega that was silenced and beaten into obedience.”Sora nodded. That was enough for her. It would have to be enough for me too.A knock echoed from downstairs. One of the guards. “My lady, the Alpha Ryker has arrived.”I inhaled once, deeply. Time to put on the mask.As I descended the staircase, I caught sight of him—Ryker Moretti, leaning casually against the banister like he owned the place. His dark hair was slicked back, and his sharp features were more devil than prince. He looked at me with that same smug smirk that always made me question whether this alliance was genius… or suicide.“You’re late,” I said coolly.“I thought fashionably late was part of the royal charm,” he replied. “Besides, I had to make sure the messenger delivered our invitation properly. Lucas should be reading it now.”The mention of his name sent an electric pulse through my spine. I wondered what he was doing in that exact moment,if he’d slammed a cup against the wall or stormed off in one of his infamous rages. I imagined his jaw clenched, eyes burning as he realized what the invitation meant.

That I wasn’t dead.

That I was coming back.

And that I wasn’t coming alone. “Did he seem surprised?” I asked Ryker. “Oh, he’ll be livid. The mate he thought drowned is not only alive, but marrying his twin. It’s poetic, really.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “This isn’t about poetry.”. “No,” Ryker said, stepping closer. “It’s about power. And you, Clara, are the most powerful weapon I’ve seen in a long time.”. “It’s about power.