Chapter 2

Kaelynn POV:

The sound of hard soles striking the hardwood outside grew louder by the second.

I pulled myself out of the shower, grabbed a thick white terrycloth robe from the brass hook, and tied the sash tight around my waist. The freezing water had dragged my core temperature down, but the fog in my head was finally gone.

I needed to clear the remaining toxins before anyone cornered me.

Moving quickly, I scanned the master suite until my eyes caught the ceramic vase sitting on the marble console table. Tucked into the decorative arrangement was a sprig of wild silver-leaf valerian.

Without hesitation, I snapped three fresh leaves off the stem and shoved them into my mouth.

The bitter, chalky sap burned the back of my throat as I chewed and swallowed. In my previous life, decades of studying ancient herbology had taught me that raw silver-leaf neutralized chemical sedatives within minutes. Almost instantly, the residual heat in my gut dissolved into a cool, steady pulse.

Early the next morning, the bedroom door flew open with a violent bang.

"You shameless little parasite!"

A shrill voice cut through the quiet room.

Charlene Ryan stormed in, wearing an expensive designer tracksuit, her jaw clenched in fury. She was Clint's youngest sister, an arrogant Beta warrior who treated anyone beneath her rank like dirt under her boots. Two housemaids hovered behind her in the corridor, craning their necks to watch the show.

Charlene's sharp eyes darted toward the untouched pillows on Clint's side of the king bed. A sneer twisted her lips.

"My brother didn't even touch you," she mocked, folding her arms over her chest. "He took one look at you and left. You couldn't even keep a wounded man in bed."

I pulled the collar of my robe closer, watching her with a calm expression. "Whatever happened between Clint and me is our business. Not yours."

"Our business?" Charlene stepped forward, pointing a manicured finger inches from my nose. "You used some dirty, backhanded trick to steal Deedee's place, and you dare call it your business?"

I looked into her glaring eyes. In my past life, this girl had made every single day in this house a living hell, mocking me at dinner and encouraging the staff to lock me out in the cold.

"If the Higgins family actually valued your brother," I said coldly, batting her hand away, "Deedee would be standing here right now."

Charlene stiffened, her face flushing red. She was used to submissive Omegas cowering before her Beta status.

"You dare touch me, you wolfless trash?"

Her arm pulled back, and her hand sliced through the air toward my face with the raw, heavy force of an aggressive shifter.

My senses were already razor-sharp. Though my dormant white wolf bloodline remained hidden from the world, my physical reflexes far exceeded those of an ordinary human.

I leaned my head slightly to the left, letting her palm graze empty air, and locked my right hand firmly around her wrist.

The impact cracked like a whip.

"Let go of me!" Charlene snarled, yanking her arm back.

She pulled once. Twice. My grip did not shift an inch. The arrogance on her face crumbled into pure shock.

"Is this how the Ryan pack greets its family members?" I asked, tightening my fingers over the pressure point on her forearm until a wince broke across her features. "By assaulting your Alpha's lawful wife?"

"Stop this racket, Charlene."

A slow, rhythmic tapping echoed from the hallway, followed by a voice like gravel grinding under stone.

Elder Martha stepped into the doorway, leaning heavily on a polished silver-tipped cane. She was the senior matriarch of the Ryan household, an old elder whose authority even Clint respected.

Charlene immediately stopped struggling, putting on a wounded pout as she spun toward the older woman. "Grandmother Martha! Look at her! She attacked me-"

"Quiet," Martha snapped, cutting her off without looking at her. The old woman's pale, sharp eyes swept over me, taking in my wet hair, my steady posture, and the calm defiance in my face.

"She crossed the threshold last night," Martha said, her tone flat. "Until Clint casts her out, she is under his name. You do not hand out punishments in this house."

I released Charlene's wrist smoothly and took a step back, dipping my head with quiet respect. "Good morning, Elder Martha. Forgive the disturbance."

Martha gave me a long, calculating look, her cane resting heavy against the floorboards.

"Put on some clothes," the old woman commanded. "Breakfast is served in the main dining hall in one hour. We have rules in this pack. Do not be late."

She turned and walked down the hall, the two maids scurrying behind her like frightened mice.

Charlene rubbed her red wrist, glaring at me with raw hatred.

"You think you won something, Kaelynn?" she hissed under her breath.

She reached into her tracksuit pocket, revealing the corner of a crumpled, yellowed envelope before slipping it back inside.

"I have proof of what kind of unfaithful slut you really are," she whispered, her lips curling into a venomous smirk. "When Clint comes down to breakfast, I'm going to make sure he strips you of your name and throws you out into the snow."

She slammed the door on her way out, rattling the glass panes.

I stared at the closed door, my fingers curling tightly into my palms.

The forged letter.

In my previous life, that fake love note had destroyed any chance of Clint believing me. It had branded me an unfaithful schemer and nearly got me executed before sundown.

This time, I won't let you get away with it again.