Claire’s POV

My hand flew up, pinning the silver mask in place before it could slip.

One wrong move, and the entire room would know my face.

But the flying glass was still coming.

My other hand shot up and caught the delicate stem before it could hit me.

Cold wine splashed across my neck, but not a single drop touched my silver mask.

The hall dropped into dead silence.

I stared at the glass, then slowly met Ivy’s eyes. Her smug smile vanished. She wanted to expose me, but instead, she had just handed me the perfect weapon.

With a calm flick of my wrist, I tossed the remaining wine right back in her face.

The red liquid splashed across her stolen gown, spreading like fresh blood.

Ivy gasped, stumbling back in horror. I stood perfectly still, holding the empty glass.

“How clumsy,” I murmured.

Then, I stood up.

Ivy’s pale face twisted with pure fury. She lunged at me. Chase scrambled behind her, desperately trying to grab her arm.

I didn't back down. I stepped forward and shoved her hard in the chest.

She crashed into Chase. He tried to brace them both, but my shove sent them toppling backward into the lavish banquet table.

Crash.

Fine china, crystal glasses, and expensive food rained down on them in a messy cascade of ruined gold and red.

The entire hall froze.

I stood over them, completely untouched, watching them tangle in the trash of their own fake celebration.

“Miss Ivy can’t even hold a drink,” I said, my voice ringing through the quiet room. “I guess those expensive shoes and stolen dresses just don’t fit you.”

Ivy glared up at me, red wine dripping from her chin. The insult hit a raw nerve. Her jaw dropped open as she finally recognized my cold tone.

Beside her, Chase froze. He studied my posture. My voice.

And he wasn't the only one.

“It’s her! It’s Claire!”

Ivy pointed a shaking finger at my face and shrieked.

The hall erupted. Gasps and shocked whispers ripped through the crowd as every single guest turned to stare.

I didn’t deny a thing. I just stood there, letting my sweet sister do the dirty work of exposing the truth.

Humiliated and stained, Chase scrambled to his feet. He pointed a trembling hand at me.

“Seize her!” he yelled, his voice cracking with blind panic. “She’s a wanted fugitive! She disgraced me, slept with a feral rogue, and ran from the guards!”

The royal guards hesitated. I was standing right beside the Alpha King’s chair. I wore a royal gown. I was clearly off-limits.

“I said seize her!” Chase roared, completely losing his mind. “She is my fiancée! She belongs to me!”

I didn't move a muscle. I let him scream like a desperate loser trying to cage the woman he had already thrown away.

The guards took one hesitant step forward.

Then, they froze.

The air in the room suddenly turned heavy. A crushing, absolute pressure rolled through the hall like a tidal wave.

Damian stepped through the doors.

His dark aura swallowed the room, suffocating and undeniable. The guests stopped breathing. The guards snapped to rigid attention. Even Chase locked up under the sheer weight of it.

Damian’s gold eyes swept over the shattered table, the filthy couple, and the masked woman standing proudly above them.

His lethal gaze locked onto Chase.

“And how,” Damian rumbled, his voice low and deadly, “do you plan to discipline the King’s mate?”

The room exploded.

Gasps. Shocked swearing. Someone dropped a champagne flute, shattering glass across the marble floor.

That single word—mate—nuked Chase’s authority right out of the water.

Chase turned chalk-white. “Uncle, you don’t understand. She’s a criminal. She brought a rogue to her ceremony and—”

“She is mine,” Damian cut him off. His tone was soft, but left zero room for debate. “That is the only thing you need to understand.”

Ivy scrambled up, her ruined dress clinging to her legs.

“She seduced you!” she shrieked. “She’s just using you to escape punishment! She’s a lying—”

Damian didn't even look at her.

He strode across the hall toward me, his heavy steps unhurried and full of purpose. The packed crowd parted for him like the Red Sea.

He stopped right in front of me and reached for the silver mask. His rough fingers grazed my cheek as he pulled the metal away.

The entire hall sucked in a breath.

My bare face was out in the open. Alive, calm, and visibly marked by the Alpha King.

I looked right past Damian’s broad shoulder and locked eyes with the pathetic couple.

A cold smile touched my lips.

“Hello, Chase. Sister,” I said, my clear voice cutting through the dead silence. “Disappointed to see me alive?”

Chase’s face twisted into an ugly mask of rage and total humiliation. Ivy stood frozen, her eyes bulging with pure horror.

The frantic whispers flared up again, ten times louder.

Chase’s last shred of sanity snapped.

He lunged forward, his hands clamping around my wrist like a vice. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises.

“You belonged to me first!” he spat, saliva flying from his lips. “You betrayed me! You have no right to stand beside him after spreading your legs for a rogue!”

Sharp pain shot up my arm, but I refused to flinch.

Before Chase could draw another breath, Damian moved.

A cold blade pressed flush against Chase’s throat.

The whole room stopped breathing. The raw killing intent rolling off Damian was so thick it tasted like copper. Every wolf in the hall felt the primal urge to hit the floor and bare their throats in absolute submission.

Chase’s grip remained clamped on my wrist, but his face drained of all blood.

Damian’s voice sliced through the tension, colder than ice.

“Release my mate.”