Chapter 2

Ella’s Point of View

I tore off my thin jacket and beat at the spreading flames. The fabric caught fire instantly, and I had to fling it away.

I stumbled across the scorching floor toward the wall‑mounted emergency fire extinguisher. My trembling fingers ripped off its plastic seal. I pressed down hard on the lever — yet nothing came out, only a hollow hiss. Its fire‑suppressant agent had long been completely drained.

The silver mist kept spreading, coiling around my ankles like pale white serpents.

I looked up at the ceiling exhaust fans. Their green indicator lights were dead. I dragged a heavy metal crate against the wall, climbed up, and wrenched open the service grille. I gasped. The air filter was completely blocked, crammed full of pink silver‑proof foil printed with glowing words: Happy Birthday, Seraphina! This was no mere prank. She had deliberately sealed the exhaust system to trap this fatal silver mist inside.

I reached in and tore at the sharp foil by hand. Silver‑infused metal wires sliced deep into my fingers. Because the cuts were made by silver, a wolf’s natural healing power could not mend my wounds. Strangely, though my blood flowed freely, it sizzled with faint, scorching heat, as if something was struggling to break free from within me.

Wave after wave of burning pain washed over me.

“Ella, where are you?” Kael’s voice resonated inside my head, using our clan‑exclusive mental telepathy. Only wolves of the same pack could speak mind‑to‑mind this way.

“Do not play ‘the boy who cried wolf’ with a fake fire, Ella,” Kael sneered coldly in my thoughts. “Julian calibrated the simulation system; there is no real danger. Stop playing the victim. Did you get Seraphina’s gift? Is the box damaged?” He demanded.

He never even asked whether I was all right.

“The fire extinguisher is empty, Kael,” I replied through the mental link, gasping for breath. “Seraphina’s birthday foil has clogged every exhaust fan. I cannot hold back the silver mist.”

“Do not lie,” Julian cut into our telepathic channel. “My system works flawlessly. Stop over‑dramatizing this.”

“She is only trying to make us feel guilty for leaving her behind,” Seraphina chimed in with fake hurt in her tone.

“Quit shifting blame, Ella,” Thorn rebuked me sharply. “You are an Omega. For once, take some responsibility.”

My heart sank into freezing despair. I recalled every time Seraphina had destroyed things growing up. She had ruined my shapeshifting potion, leaving me permanently unable to take wolf form. She had shattered my mother’s moonstone hairpin.

Every single time, Thorn and Kael forced me to take the blame for her misdeeds. They always protected her.

“Just bring the box out,” Kael sighed inside my mind. “I promise I will make it up to you properly for our mating‑bond anniversary.”

I glanced down at the wolf‑tooth bracelet on my wrist, a gift Kael had given me three years earlier. I unlatched its clasp and dropped it straight into the pink gift box.

“Kael, today is our anniversary,” I said softly.

A long, heavy silence fell over the mental link.

“Kael, the mountain wind is so cold …” Seraphina’s voice cut in, accompanied by exaggerated fake coughing sounds.

“A living person matters more than an anniversary, Ella,” Kael said coldly. “Set aside your selfishness.”

Suddenly the main alarm inside the chamber shrieked at full volume. A huge synthetic mechanical voice boomed through the stone room: “Warning. Temperature has reached critical threshold. Silver mist has hit lethal concentration.”

This was no prank alarm. The system was genuinely failing catastrophically.

“Hacked into the system for extra drama, have you?!” Julian shouted angrily over the link. “Seraphina is coughing! Get yourself out here this instant!”

Ignoring him, I stumbled toward the heavy stone door. I jammed my thumb against the manual emergency‑release button. High heat from burst pipes had already melted its plastic control panel into a shapeless lump.

I pressed my blood‑soaked palms against the scorching door, pouring out every ounce of strength my frail Omega body possessed. The door would not budge.

Through the small glass window set into the door, I could clearly see their luxurious camp far down the hillside. Servants handed them warm drinks. They were safe, warm, and happy.

“Kael,” I slid weakly down the hot stone surface, murmuring over our mental link. “The door will not open. The control panel has melted.”

Kael let out a long, annoyed sigh inside my mind. “You are a low‑ranked, pitiful Omega, Ella,” his voice dripped with disgust. “Even now, you are still throwing a tantrum.”