CHAPTER 5

Briar POV

Tristan spent the entire day executing a meticulous blackout campaign against me. He orchestrated an intimate meeting specifically to honor Alpha Logan, completely erasing my name from the guest list while ensuring Genevieve sat prominently at his side. It was a glaringly obvious maneuver to block me from ever speaking to our powerful visitor. Tristan hadn't even bothered to extend the basic courtesy of asking me to attend the grand evening gala hosted in the pack house’s central hall.

But I wasn't going to let them bury me. Realizing this banquet was my solitary window of opportunity, I reached out to Gamma Roland to set my counter-strategy into motion.

As twilight fell, I finished getting ready to gatecrash the event. Roland was already waiting for me in the shadowed corridor just outside the main hall. Dressed in a tailored black suit with his dark hair slicked back, he looked incredibly sharp, though the visible tension in his shoulders betrayed his nerves. He was actively violating a direct command from his Alpha by helping me, a transgression that carried severe consequences.

"You look absolutely breathtaking, Luna Briar," Roland murmured, offering his arm with a supportive smile.

I smoothed down the fabric of my skirt and offered a tight nod. "Thank you, Roland. Let’s go turn some heads."

Before we reached the double doors, Roland hesitated. "There’s a strange development you should know about. Tristan apparently instructed Beta Asher to act as your formal escort tonight."

I paused, my eyes narrowing as the pieces fell into place. Tristan wasn't having a sudden change of heart; he was playing a calculated political game. Asher hadn't sent a single message or knocked on my door. The plan was obvious: Asher would intentionally fail to show up, leaving me stranded in my room, which would allow Tristan to smoothly lie to Alpha Logan and claim I simply refused to attend.

"I think I’ll stick with you," I said with a cynical shrug. "Since Asher is conveniently missing in action."

Roland’s expression softened with deep empathy, and he gently patted my hand. "Don't worry, Luna. I have your back." I knew how much he was risking for my sake, and his loyalty meant the world to me.

As the muffled sound of music and chatter grew louder, I gripped the silk of my gown, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Roland, let's modify the plan slightly," I whispered as we reached the threshold. "Everyone knows Tristan banned me. If you walk in tightly gripped to my arm, it will cause an immediate backlash for you. Let me make my grand entrance alone. You can filter in a few minutes later."

Roland looked visibly relieved by the suggestion. "As you wish, Luna."

For this showdown, I had chosen a liquid-gold silk gown that shimmered brilliantly under the ballroom chandeliers. I accessorized it with a rare yellow amethyst pendant and matching earrings—ironically, a gift Tristan had given me for our last anniversary. I let my dark curls cascade loosely down my back. On the surface, I looked every bit the regal, commanding ruler. But beneath the facade, I was acutely aware of the bitter reality: to the whispering crowd, I was just a discarded wife being replaced by a pregnant mistress.

Taking a deep breath, I threw back my shoulders, lifted my chin, and glided straight into the crowded ballroom.

An instant, suffocating hush rippled through the grand hall. The lively chatter died instantly as hundreds of eyes locked onto me. Near the center of the room stood Tristan and Genevieve. Genevieve was practically drowning in a garish, hot pink gown that screamed desperation, but my satisfaction vanished the moment my eyes dropped to her neckline.

Resting against her collarbone was the flawless ruby necklace—the exact heirloom Tristan had presented to me on our wedding day.

I forced down the wave of fury threatening to choke me, keeping my expression perfectly serene. Tristan looked completely paralyzed by my sudden appearance. His gaze locked onto me, completely ignoring the woman on his arm, his eyes dark with a toxic mixture of stark admiration and lingering desire. Terrified of losing her grip, Genevieve sharply grabbed his forearm just as he took an instinctive step toward me.

I deliberately looked right through them both, walking past as if they were ghosts, entirely aware of the frantic murmurs breaking out across the floor about the Alpha abandoning his stunning Luna.

Suddenly, a strange, electric sensation prickled across my skin. It felt as though an invisible weight was pressing down on the room, anchoring me in place.

I let my eyes scan the perimeter until they landed on the far end of the hall. Alpha Logan Vance was standing there, watching my approach with unblinking intensity. He was dressed with effortless elegance in tailored charcoal trousers and a crisp navy button-down shirt, looking devastatingly handsome. A formidable wall of Frostfang warriors stood shoulder-to-shoulder around him, creating an impenetrable barrier that no ordinary pack member dared to breach. He casually swirled a crystal tumbler of amber whiskey, his golden-hazel eyes tracking my every step.

I offered a polite, respectful bow as I reached his security perimeter. To my surprise, his elite warriors seamlessly parted for me without a word, prompting audible gasps from the watching guests. Nobody walked up to the high Alpha uninvited, yet his line had opened for me instantly.

"Alpha Logan," I said, keeping my voice smooth and controlled. "It is an honor to finally meet you in person." Up close, his sheer height was staggering. Standing well over six feet, he completely towered over my five-foot-four frame, forcing me to tilt my head back just to meet his gaze.

A slow, lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his chiseled lips. "The pleasure is entirely mine, Luna Briar."

Behind me, I could practically feel Tristan’s furious, burning stare piercing into my spine. A heavy wave of possessive jealousy flared through our decaying mate bond, but I completely blocked it out.

"Did Clara happen to speak with you regarding my situation?" I inquired softly.

"She did," Logan replied, his deep baritone cutting through the ambient noise of the room. "And I am highly interested in hearing about the challenges you're facing."

"Wonderful." I took a step closer, lowering my voice so only his wolf-hearing could catch it. "Is it possible for us to move this to a more confidential setting?"

"Of course. There is a private strategy room upstairs reserved exclusively for my command staff. Follow me."

As I fell into step behind Alpha Logan, I didn't need to look back to know Tristan was absolutely seething. He would undoubtedly demand a full explanation for this public defiance, but I had already crafted the perfect defense.

Five minutes later, the heavy oak door clicked shut behind us, insulating us from the noise of the party below. Alpha Logan leaned back against the edge of a heavy mahogany conference table, casually swirling his whiskey while his intense gaze remained anchored to my face.

Rather than letting the silence stretch, I took the initiative. "I am well aware that you traveled here to discuss the Silver Harvest Initiative, Alpha Logan. I am prepared to hand over all the operational data, but I would like to lay out my personal terms first."

He took a slow sip of his drink, his expressions completely unreadable. "I'm listening."

"You've undoubtedly heard the rumors floating around the territory," I began, my voice steady despite the tension in my chest. "I want an absolute exit from my marriage to Tristan. However, when I leave, I am taking the full assets and territory of my birth-pack, Shadowvale, with me. I need your formal backing and influence to push my case through the regional Elder Council." I provided a few more vital legal details regarding my father's old treaties to solidify my claim.

Logan tilted his head to the side, an amused, predatory smile playing on his lips. "I have the power to make that happen quite easily, little wolf. But it begs the question—what exactly do I receive in exchange for such a massive political favor?"

My breath hitched, and his notorious playboy reputation instantly flashed through my mind. "I—I must clarify, Alpha Logan, that I do not trade my body for leverage. If it is a matter of resources, I can fully compensate your pack financially the moment my ancestral lands are safely restored to me."

Logan pushed off the table, closing the distance between us with silent, fluid grace. I stood my ground, craning my neck as he stepped directly into my personal space. A rich, intoxicating scent of fresh cedarwood and dark musk washed over me, clouding my senses like a heavy perfume.

"You misunderstand me, Briar," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dark, velvety register. He leaned down, his lips brushing dangerously close to the shell of my ear as he whispered, "I don't want your gold. I want you."

Shock rippled through me, and I violently jerked my head back. "Alpha Logan!" My hand flew up instinctively, pressing against the fading mate mark hidden beneath my collarbone.

He took a single step back, though his burning gaze never left mine. "I am prepared to completely dismantle your unfaithful husband's standing, strip him of his unearned assets, and force him and his mistress to grovel at your feet. I will personally guarantee the return of your birthright. But..." His lips curled into a wicked, triumphant smirk. "...in exchange, you will sign a formal contract to bind yourself to me as my official Luna for one full year."

He walked back to the table, picked up a thick, leather-bound folder of legal documents, and extended them toward me. "Review the clauses tonight. I expect them signed by dawn."

I stared at the paperwork, completely dumbfounded by how prepared he was. "By tomorrow morning?"

"Correct," Logan asserted, his voice dripping with absolute authority. "Because my convoy departs at first light. And you are leaving with me."