Five years later.

A shattered vase hit the wall. Its shards bounced across the expensive wooden floor. Alexander Blackridge stood behind his desk, black suit jacket undone, tie askew, breath ragged.

Across from him, Victoria Bennett—the woman he had made his new Luna five years ago—stood with eyes rimmed red. Her blonde hair was a mess, her silk dress half undone. The scent of a foreign pack still clung to her skin—another Alpha's scent.

"You slept with Alpha Bradford?!" Alexander's voice cracked through the office.

Victoria scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "Don't act so pure, Alex. You think I could stand it? Five years! You never touched me the way you touched her!"

"Shut your mouth!"

Victoria let out a bitter laugh. "Why? Does it hurt? You threw away your old Luna only to rot with a woman you never loved. And now what? You're an Alpha with no loyal pack, no heir, and—"

"Enough!" Alexander roared. The silver glint in his eyes flickered in the reflection of the large window behind Victoria. The actual werewolf stood there—the Alpha who had once commanded fear in the Eastern council, now humiliated by the very woman who should have been his queen.

Victoria grabbed her suitcase and tossed the car keys onto his desk.

"It's over. I'm leaving. Go back to your precious Emily. Maybe she'll still have pity on a discarded Alpha like you!"

Alexander froze. That name hadn't crossed his ears in years.

"Why so quiet when I say her name? You still love her, don't you? Look at you—silent, because you know I'm right!" Victoria hissed.

Alexander remained silent as Victoria dragged her suitcase away. Five wasted years with an Alpha who could never forget the Luna he cast aside. His large hand dug into the edge of his desk until it cracked.

"Emily?" he whispered. "Damn it! Why the hell did I ever let you go?"

New York, a few months later.

Inside a five-star hotel ballroom, crystal chandeliers poured light over a crowd of Alphas, businessmen, and pack heirs. Silk gowns, diamonds, expensive wine—everything mingled here.

At the heart of the room, a woman stood. Her dark hair was neatly pinned up. A simple black dress draped over her shoulders, no gaudy jewelry—only a single pearl necklace resting on her graceful neck. Anyone who looked at her paused before daring to meet her green eyes.

Emily Davis. Queen of Ice. CEO of E.D Holdings. The most dangerous she-wolf Alpha in New York's market. In the pack world, her name was as fearsome as George Davis once was—or more so. She stood at the edge of the ballroom, sipping white wine, half-listening to a nervous European businessman's presentation.

"Miss Davis, thank you so much for attending this gala. Our investors are truly honored—" The middle-aged Asian man's voice trembled slightly.

Emily gave a faint nod, her smile cold and flat. "I just need one thing clear, Mr. Cho. Your shipping shares aren't playing both sides this week, are they?"

The man let out an awkward laugh, bowing quickly. "Of course not."

Beside Emily, Leon—her assistant—stood calm, tablet in hand. Emily glanced at him briefly.

"If you see any suspicious numbers, replace their entire board."

Leon lowered his head swiftly. "Understood."

Across the ballroom, Alexander stood frozen. His black suit was sharp, but his eyes were dark, his jaw tense. Five years apart, yet the Alpha inside him still recognized the she-wolf across the room. The blood bond might have broken, but primal instinct never truly dies.

Next to him stood Victoria, the discarded Luna whose affair had become the Blackridge pack's bitter joke. Her blonde hair was pinned up tightly, her red dress clinging to her figure, lips twisted in a sneer.

"She's here," Victoria hissed.

Alexander drew in a slow breath. His eyes didn't leave Emily. That woman—the she-wolf who once stood before the pack, lifted a silver pendant, and vowed to be his Luna—was here, just feet away.

"I need to talk to her," Alexander murmured.

Victoria let out a cold laugh. "Go ahead! Crawl back to the woman you threw away five years ago."

Alexander brushed off Victoria's hand, which was clinging to his arm. He pushed through the crowd, weaving between servers with trays of wine and the expensive haze of perfume.

Emily watched him approach with a calm gaze. Leon started to speak, but Emily lifted one hand—a single gesture that made him step back. She turned, walking toward the open balcony at the end of the ballroom. Alexander followed. On the balcony, Emily stood with her back to him, staring out at the city. Her hand tapped lightly on the cold marble railing.

Alexander held his breath. "Emily."

Emily didn't turn. Her voice was flat. "Alexander Blackridge. Five years is not a short time."

Alexander stepped closer. The Alpha's growl swelled in his throat, but refused to come out.

"Emily, I'm sorry."

Emily turned. Her green eyes locked onto her former mate's.

"Sorry?" She let out a soft laugh. "You rejected your Luna, you shattered that pendant yourself."

Alexander exhaled. "I was a fool. I threw away my best she-wolf."

Emily's smile was thin. "You think I'm still the same?"

Alexander reached for her hand, but Emily slapped it away.

"Don't touch me! You lost that right the night you chose Victoria," Emily's voice was sharp as a blade.

"I didn't think clearly then—I was selfish. If only I'd waited—God, Emily, I regret it more than you know."

Emily stepped closer, only inches from his face. The scent of Alexander's Alpha was still the same—masculine, intoxicating—but she only drew in a shallow breath.

"Five years ago you let me go—and I see Victoria's here too."

"She's here with her new Alpha. She betrayed me," Alexander tried to explain.

Emily didn't care. She turned her back on him, her steps steady, her heels tapping over the jazz spilling from the ballroom. Leon was already waiting at the glass doors. Emily shot her former Alpha one last cold glance, then whispered to Leon,

"Soon the Carter pack will kneel."