Chapter 4: The Ghost in the Boardroom

The Northern Territory was exactly as I remembered it—and yet, it felt like a grave.

As my private jet descended toward the private airstrip, the jagged, snow-capped peaks of the Lycan Mountains rose up to meet us. This air used to taste like home; now, it just tasted like unfinished business. I adjusted the scent-masking patch behind Luna’s ear, making sure the adhesive was perfect.

"Remember," I whispered, my voice tight. "To them, we are just humans. Expensive, powerful humans. Don't let your eyes flash, and don't let your scents out. If you do, we leave immediately. Understood?"

"Understood, Mommy," Luna said, her voice unusually somber. Even at five, she could feel the heavy, oppressive magic of this land.

Leo just nodded, his small jaw set in a line of pure steel. He was dressed in a miniature charcoal suit that mirrored the one Silas had worn the night he broke my heart. It was a petty choice on my part, but I wanted the visual to be a psychological dagger when Silas finally saw him.

We stepped onto the tarmac, and the wind whipped my platinum hair around my face. Waiting for us were three black SUVs emblazoned with the silver wolf crest of the Vane Pack. I felt a phantom pain in my chest, a memory of the pride I used to feel wearing that crest. Now, it just looked like a target.

The drive to the Vane Estate was a haunting tour of my past life. We passed the ancient oaks where I used to walk when the house felt too small, and the stone markers of the territory borders. But as we pulled through the towering iron gates, my heart sank.

The estate was rotting.

The gardens I had spent hours weeding and planting were choked with thorns. The hedges were overgrown, looking like jagged teeth against the gray sky. The stone fountain in the courtyard—the one where Genevieve’s men had nearly killed me—was dry and cracked. It seemed that without a Luna’s care, the heart of the pack had withered.

"It’s big," Leo whispered as we pulled up to the front steps. "But it feels... hungry."

"That’s because it’s dying, Leo," I said, stepping out of the car.

We were ushered into the grand foyer by a young Beta who looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. He wouldn't look me in the eye, his head bowed in a show of submission that felt forced. I looked up at the wall above the fireplace, expecting to see the portrait of the Alpha King.

The portrait was there, but it was ruined. A massive, jagged slash ran through the canvas, right through Genevieve’s smiling face. My pulse quickened. What had happened here in five years?

"CEO Vance? The Board is ready for you," the Beta muttered, leading us toward the boardroom.

I pushed open the heavy oak doors, and the scent hit me like a wall. Stale tobacco, expensive bourbon, and the sour, metallic tang of stressed Alphas. Around the long mahogany table sat the elders—the same men who had called me "human-blooded trash" and "the seat-warmer."

They looked older, more haggard. They were drowning, and they knew it.

I walked to the head of the table, but I didn't sit. I stood, my hands resting on the back of the leather chair, my presence filling the room.

"Where is Silas Vane?" I asked. I didn't use his title. I didn't use "Alpha." I used his name like it was a common noun.

"The Alpha King is... busy with pack matters," Harlen, the oldest of the bunch, said as he cleared his throat. He tried to project authority, but his hand was trembling as he looked at my proposal. "We have reviewed your terms, Ms. Vance. Sixty percent of the voting shares? That is unheard of for an outside investor."

"Seventy percent," I corrected, my voice cold and clear. "And the deed to the Lunar Valley. My terms are not a negotiation, Harlen. They are a mercy. Vane Enterprises is losing ten million dollars a day. Your warriors are deserting to the Southern Alliance because you can't afford to pay their stipends. In forty-eight hours, the banks will seize this house. I am the only thing standing between you and the street."

"This is an insult!" one of the younger Alphas barked, slamming his fist on the table. "We are a sovereign pack! We don't take orders from a human woman!"

I didn't blink. "Then fall. I have three other acquisitions in the works. I don't need the Vane Pack, but the Vane Pack certainly needs me."

I turned to the children. "Leo, Luna, let's go. It seems our time is being wasted."

I had almost reached the door when the temperature in the room plummeted. The air grew heavy, charged with a familiar, suffocating power that made the hair on my arms stand up.

The doors swung open.

Silas Vane walked in, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. He looked like a man who had been through a war and lost. He was thinner, his suit hanging slightly loose on his massive frame. His hair was a mess, and his eyes... they were haunted. They weren't the icy gray of the man who divorced me; they were the color of a winter storm, sunken and burning with a feverish intensity.

He didn't look at the board. He didn't look at the children. He looked at me.

The scent-masker around my neck hummed, working overtime as Silas took a deep, shuddering breath. He stalked toward me, stopping only inches away. The heat from his body was like a furnace, a sharp contrast to the cold mask I was wearing.

"You," he whispered. His voice was a wreck—hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in years.

"Mr. Vane," I said, my voice perfectly level. "I was just telling your board that my offer is about to be withdrawn."

He didn't seem to hear me. He was staring at my face, his eyes searching mine with a desperate, frantic hunger. He reached out a hand, his fingers trembling as they hovered near my cheek. He looked like a man seeing a ghost.

"Elara?" he breathed.

The room went deathly silent. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, but I didn't let a single emotion reach my face.

"My name is CEO Vance," I said, my voice sharp enough to draw blood. "And if you ever address me by that name again, I will walk out of this room and watch your kingdom burn. Do we have a deal, or not?"

Silas blinked, the golden hue of his wolf receding as he forced himself back to reality. He looked down, and his gaze finally landed on the two children standing behind me.

Leo stepped forward. He didn't hide behind my legs. He stood his ground, his small chest puffed out, his slate-gray eyes—a perfect mirror of Silas’s—flashing with a protective fire. He looked the Alpha King in the eye and did something that made every man in the room gasp.

"Don't touch my mom," Leo growled.

The sound was low, but it had the distinct, bone-deep vibration of an Alpha Command. It wasn't just a child’s warning; it was a king’s order.

Silas gasped, his knees buckling for a split second as the power of the boy’s voice hit him. He stared at Leo, his face turning ghostly pale. "That boy... who is he?"

"He is my son," I said, stepping in front of Leo to shield him. "And he doesn't like strangers bothering me. Now, Silas. The contract. Sign it, or I leave."

Silas looked from the boy to me, his mind clearly spinning in a thousand directions. He couldn't smell me, but his soul was screaming. He reached for the pen on the table, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I’ll sign," Silas said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, obsessive low. "But on one condition. You and the children stay here, in the estate, until the transition is complete. I won't have my primary investor staying in a hotel."

It was a trap. He wanted to hunt me. He wanted to find the truth.

I looked at him—the man who had destroyed me, now broken and desperate—and I felt a surge of dark, delicious power.

"Fine," I said. "We stay. But I want the East Wing. And Silas? If I see Genevieve even once, the deal is off."

Silas’s expression darkened into something lethal. "Genevieve hasn't lived in this house for three years. She is... no longer a concern."

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my face like stone. "Good. Have our bags sent up."

I walked past him, my shoulder brushing his. For a fraction of a second, the scent-masker flickered. A tiny, microscopic trace of moon-lilies and rain escaped.

I saw Silas freeze. His hand caught the doorframe so hard the wood splintered.

"Wait!" he called out.

I didn't stop. I kept walking, my heels clicking a victory march on the marble floor. I was back in his house, I was taking his company, and I was holding his heirs. Silas Vane thought he was the predator, but he was about to find out what happens when you invite a Queen into your home to settle a debt.