Chapter 2 Abandoned partners

Clyda POV:

As Giana caught the silver-laced whip, the guard captain curled tighter into the freezing mud, clutching his smoking thigh and shivering uncontrollably. The foul smell of burnt werewolf flesh and wet asphalt hung heavy in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood and the relentless downpour.

"Alpha Dillon spoke the formal rejection oath right in front of the press..."

The captain gasped for air between pathetic sobs, his feral eyes darting frantically toward the heavy iron gates of the Simon estate as if praying for reinforcements that would never come.

"He looked right at her during the pack assembly and said, 'I, Dillon, reject you, Gertrude, as my mate'..."

A bucket of ice water seemed to pour over me from head to toe, leaving my fingers entirely numb. In werewolf lore, only a fully marked mate bond triggers the full, soul-tearing agony of the Rejection Ritual. Having her soul ripped in half by the man she loved, while simultaneously being tortured with liquid silver, meant Gertrude had gone through absolute hell before taking her last breath.

"And then? The Simon Pack just stood by and watched her get cast out as a packless Rogue?"

I grabbed his wet, muddy collar and hauled him straight up out of the puddle, my grip tight enough to cut off his air supply and crush his windpipe.

"He... he took a Chosen Mate! A new high-ranking female from a wealthy allied pack!" the captain choked out, his face turning a bruised shade of purple. "The Lewis Pack sent her body back with the divorce papers days ago! They claimed that after she was banished, she ran into a pack of lawless Rogues in the wilderness... they said she was defiled and then murdered!"

A Chosen Mate? Defiled by Rogues? I opened my hand and let him drop back into the filth like a sack of wet cement. A maniacal, terrifying laugh clawed its way out of my throat, echoing off the stone walls of the estate. "Good. Very good." The sheer audacity of their lies was almost impressive in its cruelty.

Right then, the heavy wrought-iron gates of the estate swung open with a mechanical groan, and two black Maybachs sliced through the rain before screeching to a halt in front of us. Six Simon Pack Enforcers in tailored black suits poured out of the doors, their eyes glowing yellow as they fanned out to surround our truck.

An arrogant middle-aged Beta with a trimmed mustache stepped out last, sheltered under a large black umbrella held by a subordinate. He was the personal proxy of my grandmother, Elder Lady Agatha Simon, who currently held the pack's corporate and political reins.

He cast a disgusted, fleeting glance at the crippled guards bleeding on the ground before frowning hard at the glowing cryo-coffin.

"Clyda, you banished wolfless trash, how dare you bring something so filthy to stain the family gates?"

"Something filthy?"

I took a slow, measured step forward, my cold gaze scraping across his smug face. "The woman lying in there is the eldest daughter of the Simon family. She is your blood."

"She is nothing more than a discarded Rogue now, a useless shell who couldn't even birth a pup with an inner wolf!"

The Beta proxy sneered without a shred of sympathy, his voice dripping with aristocratic disdain. "Your adoptive mother, Beatrice, just spent the last hour kneeling on the cold marble floor of the grand hall, begging the Elder Lady to let this disgrace be buried in the family plot. Do you know what the Elder Lady said?"

He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "She said Gertrude brought unforgivable shame upon the Simon Pack. If she hadn't been so jealous of Alpha Dillon's new Chosen Mate, none of this would have happened!"

I glanced back at my sister's snow-white, ruined face inside the glass, and a suffocating wave of bloodlust surged straight to the top of my skull. The mental image of my gentle mother, Beatrice, kneeling and weeping for my sister while these monsters mocked her, pushed my sanity to the absolute brink.

"By order of the Elder Lady, Gertrude's corpse is permanently barred from the family cemetery! Haul this box into the wilderness and burn it immediately!"

At his command, two burly Enforcers stepped forward, their claws extending as they reached to seize the rig.

"Touch her, and I'll chop your hands off."

I stood directly in front of the coffin, keeping my voice low, steady, and vibrating with a lethal promise. The proxy barked out a condescending laugh.

"With what? A genetic reject who can't even shift? Take her down!"

The two Enforcers lunged at my shoulders, expecting an easy takedown of a fragile human. Giana tensed to strike from the shadows, but I raised a single hand to stop her.

Moving faster than their Beta eyes could ever hope to track, I shot both hands out, clamped onto their extended wrists, and twisted with all my hidden, terrifying weight. The loud, sickening crack of snapping bone echoed clearly through the downpour as both men dropped to their knees, screaming in agony as their arms bent at unnatural angles.

The arrogant smirk froze instantly on the proxy's face, his mouth falling open as he stared at my slender, seemingly fragile arms in utter disbelief.

"You... how can a wolfless have that kind of brute strength?"

"Go back and tell Agatha this."

I shook the rainwater and dirt off my fingers, my voice dropping an octave, resonating with a dark, primordial authority.

"The Simon Pack doesn't deserve to bury my sister."

I spun on my heel, my coat flaring behind me, and strode back to the cab of the heavy rig. "Lift the coffin. Secure the latches."

"Giana, get in."

"Boss, where are we heading?"

Giana vaulted effortlessly into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut as I turned the ignition key. The heavy diesel engine roared to life like a waking mechanical beast, the massive tires spinning mud and gravel into the air.

"To the Lewis Pack headquarters."

I stared through the windshield into the black, driving rain, my eyes reflecting the harsh, clinical glow of the dashboard lights. "Since they want to play dirty, I'm going to smash their corporate fortress to pieces. I'm going to collect a debt of blood."

The proxy shouted frantically for the remaining Enforcers to block our path, but I stomped the gas pedal straight to the floor. They dove into the thorny bushes in sheer panic as the steel rig plowed right through the outer wooden barricades, shattering them into splinters. I left the opulent lights of the Simon estate far behind in my rearview mirror as we tore onto the flooded highway, heading straight toward Dillon Lewis's turf.