Chapter 3

Ella’s Point of View

My smart communication wristband buzzed sharply. Kael had posted the prank video publicly to the wolf‑clan network. Mocking comments from high‑ranking wolves flooded my screen instantly.

“Look how that bottom‑tier Omega is shaking.” “She did not even try to grab a cloak. Total good‑for‑nothing.”

A private message popped up from my father. “You bring shame upon our pure‑blood line. Do not set foot home until you kneel and apologize to the Alpha.”

I closed the messages.

By now the silver mist was so dense I could barely make out the chamber walls. Flames advanced, driving me into the far corner of the room. My body convulsed violently — fatal reactions as silver poison seeped deeper into my bloodstream.

Dragging my spasming, injured frame, I climbed the metal steps up to the steel observation platform, the only spot the fire had not yet reached.

My smart wristband notified me that a live broadcast had started. Seraphina was streaming for the entire wolf clan, sitting nestled against Kael’s lap beside a bonfire. On her head sat a ceremonial crown inlaid with moonstones. It was the supreme regalia of the Luna, reserved solely for an Alpha’s fated mate. It should have been mine.

Kael handed her a large bouquet of white roses, yet his jaw was tight. His gaze kept drifting off‑camera toward the mountain behind them. His inner wolf spirit paced restlessly, even as he forced a smile to hide his unease. Those roses were the custom‑ordered bouquet I had prepared for our anniversary.

“Ella is just a sore loser,” Seraphina pouted toward the camera. “We were only playing a game together.”

The live‑stream chat filled with vicious insults directed at me, mixed with pity for her. “Poor Seraphina, having to deal with such a jealous sister.”

“Ella,” Kael’s cold, harsh voice exploded in my mind over our mental link. “Get back here at once and apologize to Seraphina. Stop disgracing us all.”

A burning charred timber crashed down from the ceiling onto the back of my hand. Black blisters bubbled across my scalded skin. I did not make a single whimper of pain.

“I cannot come back, Kael,” my voice remained flat and emotionless.

“Do not threaten me by running away from the clan!” Kael roared furiously in my thoughts.

His rage brought back memories of our marking ceremony three years before. He had been ready to sink his fangs into my neck, to brand our souls together forever. Then Seraphina had suddenly faked entering heat. She screamed and writhed on the floor, releasing a manufactured repulsive scent. Without hesitation, Kael had abandoned me on the altar and sprinted off to carry her away. He had left me humiliated and exposed in front of the whole clan.

“If you are not out of that door in five minutes, do not ever come back,” Kael issued his final ultimatum. Then he severed our mental connection completely. Dead, suffocating silence filled my head.

Back on the live stream, Seraphina pulled out a deck of cards. “Let us play truth or dare!” she giggled brightly.

She turned to Thorn. “Truth: who matters more to you, me or your sister?”

“You,” Thorn answered without hesitation. “No matter what happens, I will always protect you first.”

She looked next at Julian. “Truth: do you regret locking Ella inside that chamber alone?”

“Not in the slightest,” Julian sneered. “She deserved to learn a lesson.”

At last her eyes fell to Kael. “Truth: would you rather I were your fated mate instead of her?”

Kael lifted his gaze toward the camera. His eyes were deep and shadowed.

“Yes,” Kael said softly, one single word.

My spirit shattered in that instant — yet not a single tear fell from my eyes.

Beside the observation‑station console I found a cracked emergency supply crate holding four silver‑proof, fire‑sealed envelopes. With blood‑drenched, shaking fingers I pulled them out.

I placed my mother’s old photograph inside the first envelope and scrawled a final note to my brother on parchment paper. Into the second envelope, I slipped the small carved‑wood wolf figurine Julian had given me when he was ten years old. The third envelope held the official wolf‑clan contract documenting my mate‑bond with Kael. For the fourth envelope, I kept the shattered glass vial of my childhood shapeshifting potion — the one Seraphina had smashed with an innocent smile, destroying my hope of running alongside the clan in wolf form forever.

I sealed each envelope carefully and lined them neatly on the highest metal grid of the observation platform.

My phone buzzed. The three men sent furious text messages, warning me I would face severe punishment if I ruined their gathering. I ignored them completely.

I activated the recording function on my communicator. Into it, I first repeated every cruel word the three of them had said to me — over the mental link and on that live stream — the ultimatum, the mockery, Kael’s soft “Yes” to Seraphina — word for word, so that no one could ever call my memory a lie.

“Father,” I spoke quietly into the microphone. “I am sorry I could not grow into the powerful wolf you hoped for. But from this moment onward, I will bring you no more shame.”

I set this voice memo to send automatically twelve hours later. Then I lay down upon the cold stone floor, waiting for the flames to consume me.