Chapter 6

My phone buzzed against the marble countertop of my new kitchen, the screen flashing a name I was already sick of. Silas.

 I stared at it for a second, taking a slow sip of my iced coffee. In my past life, seeing his name on the screen would have sent my heart into a frantic, anxious flutter. I would have dropped whatever I was doing to answer, terrified that I had displeased my Alpha. Now? 

I just felt a profound sense of second-hand embarrassment for him. I swiped the screen to answer, putting him on speaker so I could keep my hands free to measure the kitchen island. 

"Speak. I'm busy.""Lyra!" Silas’s voice boomed through the phone, dripping with that artificial, chest-deep rumble he used when he wanted to sound intimidating.

 It was his 'Alpha Command' voice. The one that used to make my wolf whimper and submit. Now, it just sounded like a constipated pug. "I don't know what game you think you're playing," he snarled, the sound of his heavy breathing echoing in my empty kitchen. "But this little tantrum ends right now. 

You will come back to the pack house, you will kneel in the courtyard, and you will beg for my forgiveness. If you do it now, I might only lock you in the dungeons for a month."I paused, tapping the measuring tape against my chin. "Silas, honey, is the WiFi down at the pack house? Because your 'Alpha authority' isn't reaching me. 

The reception here is terrible."There was a stunned, breathless silence on the other end. I could practically hear his brain short-circuiting. No one spoke to the Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack like that. Especially not his mate. "You insolent little bitch," he finally choked out, his voice dropping the fake rumble and cracking with genuine, pathetic rage. "You think you're funny? You think you can just sever a sacred mate bond and walk away with my respect? You are nothing without me! You're a low-born omega with no family, no money, and no prospects! When the winter winds hit, you'll be crawling back to my gates begging for a scrap of warmth!"I sighed, leaning against the counter.

 "Okay, first of all, 'low-born'? Did you rehearse that in the mirror? Second, I'm currently trying to figure out if I want to knock down this load-bearing wall to make an open-concept living space. So if you don't have any actual legal arguments, I'm going to have to put you on hold.""I will hunt you down!" Silas roared, completely losing his mind. 

"I will strip you of your citizenship! I will have the Council brand you a rogue! You belong to me, Lyra! You are my property!""Actually, I'm un-mated," I corrected him cheerfully. 

"It’s a whole new demographic. Very liberating. The benefits are fantastic, mostly because I don't have to listen to you breathe anymore.""I command you to—""Yep, love the enthusiasm, really do, but my contractor is waiting. Bye, Silas. Try not to choke on your own ego."I tapped the screen, ending the call mid-sentence.

 The sudden silence in the massive, empty house was beautiful. I let out a bright, genuine laugh, the sound echoing off the hardwood floors. God, it felt good to hang up on him. In my past life, I would have cried for hours after he spoke to me like that. Today, it was the best comedy routine I’d heard all week.My phone buzzed again. A text from Silas. 

You will regret this.I blocked his number, then tossed the phone onto the counter and grabbed my keys. It was time to make sure Silas couldn't actually do anything about his little threats.

 Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in a plush leather chair in the downtown office of Arthur Pendleton, the sharpest supernatural lawyer in the tri-state area. 

Arthur was a silver-fox of a man in his late fifties, with a tailored suit that probably cost more than my old car and a smile that said he knew exactly where all the bodies were buried. 

"Ms. Vance," Arthur greeted, sliding a thick, leather-bound folder across his massive mahogany desk. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person. 

Though I must admit, when your mother’s trust contacted me, I didn't expect the heir to be quite so... proactive.""Time is money, Arthur. And right now, I have a lot of money and very little time," I said, leaning forward. "Tell me we have the Deadlands."Arthur chuckled, a dry, raspy sound. He opened the folder and spun it around to face me. 

Inside was a map of the northern territories, with a massive, jagged expanse of land highlighted in red. "The Northern Territory," Arthur said, tapping the paper. "Colloquially known as the Deadlands. Ten thousand acres of rocky terrain, dense pine forests, and sub-zero temperatures for eight months of the year. 

The Regional Council has tried to sell it three times in the last century. No one wants it. They call it a cursed wasteland.""I love cursed wastelands," I said deadpan. "They're very popular this season. Plus, the property taxes must be practically zero."Arthur’s eyes twinkled with amusement. "Indeed. But there is a complication. 

Alpha Silas filed an emergency injunction this morning, attempting to claim the territory as 'abandoned pack land' since your mother was exiled before you were born."My smile vanished, my eyes turning cold. "And?""And," Arthur said, pulling out a stamped document with a heavy, official seal, "I tore it to shreds.

 I presented the original bloodline charts, your mother’s sealed decree, and the legal timeline of your rejection. The Council Judge didn't even let Silas finish speaking. The injunction was dismissed with prejudice."He slid a pen across the desk toward me. "Silas Thorne has officially been stripped of any and all claims to the Northern Territory. 

As of this signature, you are not just the owner, Ms. Vance. You are the sovereign Alpha of the Deadlands. You are no longer subject to the Crescent Moon Pack's laws, their taxes, or their jurisdiction."I stared at the document. 

The words blurred for a second as the sheer weight of them settled over me. Sovereign Alpha. I wasn't just a rogue running from my ex. I was a territory holder. I had my own land, my own laws, and my own fortress. Silas had thought he was giving me a garbage dump when he let me go. He had laughed when I mentioned the Deadlands, telling me I’d freeze to death in the dirt. He had no idea that beneath that 'worthless' rocky soil lay the ancestral Royal Vault, filled with centuries of hoarded wealth, unregistered silver, and ancient artifacts. I picked up the pen. It felt heavy, solid, and real. 

"Where do I sign?" I asked."Page four, initial the bottom of page five, and sign the final addendum on page ten," Arthur instructed. I signed my name with a steady hand. Lyra Vance. No 'Thorne'. No 'Mate'. Just me. 

"Congratulations, Alpha Vance," Arthur said, closing the folder and locking it in his safe. 

"You are officially a sovereign power. Now, I assume you’ll be heading up there to inspect your new kingdom?""Eventually," I said, standing up and smoothing down my jacket. 

"Right now, I need to hire a private mercenary crew to secure the perimeter. I want a ten-foot steel wall around the main valley, and I want it armed. Off the books, off the Council registry, and I don't care what it costs."Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Building a fortress, are we?""Just preparing for the winter," I said with a wink. "I hear it's going to be a killer."I walked out of the law firm and into the bright afternoon sun. The city was bustling, completely oblivious to the fact that their world was on a countdown. 

Humans and wolves alike walked past me, arguing over trivial things, worrying about their jobs, their status, their petty pack politics. 

They had no idea that in fifty-nine days, the sky would turn red and the monsters would come out to play. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I’d gotten from a contact in the supernatural underground. "Hello?" a gruff, cautious voice answered. "Hi," I said, my voice light and cheerful. "I'm looking to hire a crew for some heavy construction and perimeter defense up in the Deadlands. I hear you're the best off-the-books mercenary in the city. Is that true?"There was a long pause on the other end. 

"Who is this? And how did you get this number?""My name is Lyra Vance," I said, watching a stray leaf blow across the sidewalk. "And I'm the new Alpha of the Deadlands. I have forty-five million dollars, a list of demands longer than your arm, and a very strict deadline. 

Are you in, or should I call someone else?"Silence stretched for three seconds. Then, a low, impressed whistle came through the speaker. "Forty-five million, huh?" the man muttered. "You got my attention, Alpha. Where do we meet?"I smiled, hailing a cab. "Let's talk about weapons.”