CHAPTER 6

The vibration on the nightstand was a serrated blade cutting through my sleep. I fumbled for the device, the screen burning my retinas.

Cameron.

Three years of silence. Three years of being his shadow, his silent "relic" wife, and not once had he ever reached out. If this had been yesterday, my heart would have hammered against my ribs with pathetic hope. Now? I let the call bleed out into the silence of the room.

My first rejection. It felt like oxygen finally hitting my lungs.

A moment later, the screen lit up again. This time, it was one of the Steele maids. I sighed, sliding the bar to answer. "Yeah? What’s wrong?"

"Sierra, where the hell is my cobalt tie? The silk one from the Northlands vault."

It wasn't the maid. It was Cameron’s voice, a low, arrogant rasp that used to make my wolf whimper in submission. I felt a cold sneer touch my lips. "Check the leftmost slot of the second cedar drawer, Mr. Steele."

"Get back here and find it yourself," he snapped, his tone thick with the assumption that I was still his property. "I won't have the staff paws all over my personal quarters."

"We’re done, Cameron. Ask Lexi to find it. I'm sure she’s already made herself comfortable in my spot."

"She’s a high-blood, Sierra. She isn't a servant. How is she supposed to navigate a closet?"

I let out a sharp, jagged laugh. He actually thought so little of me that he’d order me back to play maid for his mistress just to save her the trouble of looking for a tie. "If you’re too incompetent to dress yourself, go naked. Don't call me again."

I cut the line before he could growl back. My pulse was electric. Cutting him off felt better than any scent-mark ever had.

In the Steele Residence, Cameron stared at the dead handset, his knuckles white as he gripped the device. He yanked open the second drawer. There it was. Tucked exactly where she said. He’d searched that drawer twice.

It felt like the walls were closing in. He’d sent his best trackers after the Vaughn helicopter last night, but they’d lost the trail near the frost-line of the Great Peaks.

He moved to the dining hall, the scent of a heavy, grease-laden breakfast hitting him. He took a bite of the spiced boar and spat it into a napkin. "This is trash!"

Kaleb bowed, sweat beading on his forehead. "Ms. Hart insisted on the menu, Alpha. She said these were your favorites."

Cameron looked at the empty chair where I used to sit, always waiting with a simple bowl of broth and grain—exactly what his wolf needed after a night shift. The silence in the room was a physical weight. He shoved the plate away, the metal screeching against the stone.

My stomach gave a loud, hollow growl. I slipped out of the suite, leaving Aunt Patricia to sleep off the stress of yesterday. Landon was in the room next door, likely dreaming of real estate and whatever "regular" job he pretended to have.

I found a small shifter diner a few blocks away. The smell of fresh pine-bread and coffee was intoxicating. I snapped a quick photo of my plate and posted it to the local pack-net.

“Starting fresh. No looking back.”

Within seconds, a notification popped up. Naomi Brooks, the only woman in the Steele Pack who had ever treated me like a human, liked the post. Her call came a second later. "Sierra? You’re alive. Come to the Brooks’ grove for dinner tonight. I need the truth."

"I'll be there, Naomi." I owed her that much.

As I walked back to the hotel with a bag of takeout for the others, a young wolf stepped out of the elevator. He did a double-take, pulled out his phone, and snapped a grainy photo of my back.

Cameron’s phone buzzed in the back of his black SUV. He swiped the message from one of his street informants.

“Alpha, saw your wife at the Grand North Hotel. She’s alone, but she’s carrying food back to a suite.”

His blood turned to molten lead. A hotel. She’d spent the night in a hotel with the man who picked her up in that chopper. Had she been scent-tangled with another male before the ink was even dry on the divorce?

He opened the pack-net and saw my post. “No looking back.”

"Lying bitch," he hissed. He looked at his driver, Jonah Price. "Cut the credits to the hospital. Now."

Jonah blinked. "The hospital? Alpha, your uncle—I mean, Mrs. Steele’s uncle. The life support for James? You promised to cover that in the settlement."

"She wants to play 'new day'? Let’s see how she likes the sunset when her only kin stops breathing," Cameron snarled, his eyes flashing a predatory gold. "She thinks she can cheat on me and keep my protection? Do it."

Back in the suite, I sneezed. Someone was talking about me.

Landon was already at the table, which was now buried under a feast of smoked salmon, mountain berries, and fresh game. I looked at the two soggy bagels I’d bought with my last bit of cash and felt a flush of heat creep up my neck.

"I... brought these," I said, setting the bag down. "I didn't know the hotel provided all this."

Landon didn't blink. "It's complimentary. I, uh, have a loyalty card. Very common for real estate agents."

He reached out, took one of my cheap bagels, and bit into it like it was the finest meal he’d ever had. He secretly snapped a photo under the table and sent it to the Vaughn Circle group chat.

Landon: Sierra bought me breakfast. Eat your hearts out, losers.

Miles: You’re a parasite. Don't let her spend her coins on you!

Aaron: I'm a doctor and even I find your lack of shame terminal.

Landon ignored them, smiling at me with a warmth that felt like a sun-stone. "Is it okay if my brothers drop by? They’re all 'working' wolves, very low-key."

"That’s fine," I said. "I like 'regular.' The Steeles were... too much."

Landon’s phone rang. The screen read Lexi Hart. His expression shifted instantly, a mask of cold, lethal indifference. He rejected the call without a word.

Years ago, the Vaughn family had lost me. In their desperation to give their dying grandmother peace, they’d brought in a "placeholder"—Lexi. She’d been living as the fake Vaughn heiress while I was being treated like dirt by the Steeles.

Landon looked at me, his biological sister, and I saw a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes. He wasn't ready to tell me that the woman who helped destroy my marriage was currently sitting in his grandmother's house, wearing my name.

"Landon?" I asked. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "Just thinking about how much I'm going to enjoy my 'regular' job today."