Chapter 3 Revenge begins

Clyda POV:

The heavy rig barreled down the flooded highway, putting miles between us and the Simon estate. The windshield wipers thrashed wildly against the glass, struggling to clear the torrential rain, while my knuckles stayed bone-white on the steering wheel. The deafening roar of the massive diesel engine vibrated through the floorboards, a mechanical beast perfectly mirroring the feral, untamed rage tearing at my insides.

In the rearview mirror, several sets of high beams flashed aggressively through the mist—Agatha's Enforcers were still tailing us in their armored SUVs, desperate to stop me from dragging the family name into a full-blown, catastrophic pack war.

"Lose them."

I spoke calmly, my voice devoid of any panic, and yanked the steering wheel hard to the left. While shifting into a Dire Wolf is normally the fastest way for our kind to travel, hauling my sister's cryo-coffin meant I had to rely on twelve tons of reinforced Detroit steel.

The massive trailer drifted violently across the slick asphalt, the sheer momentum slamming a pursuing SUV straight into the steel guardrail. A shower of bright orange sparks illuminated the night as the crunch of metal and the shattering of safety glass echoed over the storm. The crash barely registered over the pounding of my own heart. I didn't care if those Enforcers lived or died; they were merely insignificant obstacles in my path to Dillon Lewis.

Half an hour later, the sprawling, imposing silhouette of the Lewis Pack headquarters—operating publicly as a multinational security conglomerate—rose out of the heavy mist. It was a modern, impenetrable fortress surrounded by high wrought-iron gates bearing the silver-wolf crest of the Lewis family. Two rows of heavily armed Gamma security personnel stood on guard out front, their eyes narrowing suspiciously as our roaring rig tore up the private, manicured drive.

Instead of slowing down to announce my arrival, I pressed the accelerator harder until the engine's roar drowned out the rolling thunder.

"Is she out of her mind?!"

The Gamma security captain yelled in absolute panic, raising his automatic rifle as his men scrambled frantically for cover behind the concrete pillars. Less than twenty meters from the grand entrance, I stomped the brakes and wrenched the heavy handbrake up with all my strength.

The massive tires screeched violently against the wet stone, burning rubber as the heavy rig slid sideways, locking into place dead center across the driveway. The massive trailer formed an impenetrable steel wall, completely sealing off the ornate gates of the Lewis Pack headquarters from the outside world.

I kicked the cab door open and jumped down from the footboard, my boots splashing into a deep puddle. I let the freezing rain wash over my face, cooling the burning rage just enough to keep me focused. Giana dropped down on the other side and pressed a tactical remote, lowering the hydraulic lift at the back of the truck with a mechanical hum.

The transparent, bulletproof cryo-coffin holding Gertrude's ruined body settled onto the pavement in full, undeniable view of the entire compound. The Gamma captain charged forward with a dozen heavily armed guards, several of them already flashing dangerous, vertical wolf pupils as their inner beasts reacted to the threat.

"Move this rig now! You damn wolfless freak, do you have any idea whose territory this is?"

The captain shoved the hot barrel of his assault rifle right up to the tip of my nose, his breath smelling of stale coffee and raw aggression. I didn't flinch. I raised two fingers, pinched the steel barrel of the gun, and slowly, deliberately pushed it aside.

"Tell Dillon to drag his ass out here."

I looked straight into his feral, glowing eyes, my tone as flat and casual as if I were asking for the time. Stunned for a split second by the dead calm in my gaze—a calm no ordinary human or wolfless should possess—the captain snarled, gripping his weapon tightly, and swung his rifle butt toward my temple in a vicious arc.

Before the heavy stock could even graze my skin, Giana blurred past my shoulder. She moved with the speed of a true shadow operative, driving her steel-toed boot straight through the captain's kneecap. The sickening crunch of shattered bone was followed by a howl of agony as the captain hit the ground.

Instantly, the rest of the Gamma guards racked their bolts, their fingers tightening on their triggers while they frantically projected a pack-wide Mind-Link alarm—*Intruder at the main gate! Requesting Alpha backup immediately!*

"Bring me a chair," I ordered quietly, ignoring the dozen guns pointed at my chest.

Giana moved like a wraith, pulling a heavy folding tactical chair from the truck's side compartment and snapping it open directly in front of the cryo-coffin. I sat down slowly, crossing one leg over the other, my black trench coat pooling around my combat boots. I leaned back, my posture exuding a terrifying, lazy arrogance as I stared down the barrels of their assault rifles.

Rapid, chaotic footsteps echoed from the inner courtyard as the main building's bulletproof glass doors were shoved violently open. The commotion had drawn a massive crowd; corporate executives in expensive suits and high-ranking pack members flooded the portico, whispering furiously as they pointed at the lone wolfless woman sitting calmly in front of a frozen corpse.

"The CEO is coming out..."

The guards immediately lowered their heads in genetic submission, parting like the Red Sea to clear a path. Former Alpha Richard Lewis walked out leaning on a heavy ebony cane, flanked by a dozen elite corporate executives. Right beside him was his son, the current Alpha and CEO, Dillon Lewis.

Dillon wore a bespoke Armani suit, his handsome face tight with irritation and poorly hidden guilt. He possessed the kind of striking, aristocratic features that made high-society females swoon—the exact same charming, deceitful eyes that had once tricked my sister into believing he was her fated protector.

The moment his gaze landed on the glass cryo-coffin, the blood drained entirely from his face, and his confident steps faltered.

I remained seated, my fingers lightly drumming a steady, rhythmic beat against the armrest of the chair as I looked up at the man who had systematically destroyed my sister's life.

"Good evening, former brother-in-law."

My lips curled into a cruel, blood-chilling smile. "I'm here to return your trophy. And to collect a life."

Dillon's handsome features twisted in sudden fury, and his full, oppressive Alpha aura exploded outward like a shockwave, aimed straight toward me.