Chapter 14
659words
The venue fell deathly silent, then erupted in chaos.
"No! It's fake! Fabricated!" Seraphina's saintly mask shattered as she screamed hysterically. But her distinctive spiritual energy signature in the recording was impossible to fake.
The truth stood exposed before everyone.
Under the shocked, disgusted stares, Seraphina completely unraveled. She pointed at Genevieve like a madwoman, unleashing a final, desperate attack: "You all take her side! Why?! She's nothing but a whore paid to impersonate me! Just an expensive pheromone copy hired by the pack leader!"
Her words hit Damian like lightning.
He stared at Genevieve in disbelief, his eyes filled with confusion and wounded pride. Two years together—her devotion, her care—was it all an act?
"Genevieve," his voice shook, "these past two years… what were they really?"
Genevieve met his gaze coldly and delivered her answer with devastating calm.
"A treatment protocol. Three thousand gold per hour, double on holidays. Pheromone emergencies billed as overtime, calculated separately."
CRACK
Something shattered in Damian's mind. His pride, emotions, his entire world collapsed in that instant. The fragile connection sustaining his spirit finally broke under these devastating revelations.
He released an inhuman cry of anguish, clutching his head as his pheromones spiraled wildly out of control. He collapsed to his knees.
As chaos erupted, Damian suddenly sprang up like a wounded beast, eyes blood-red, lunging toward the source of his pain—Genevieve.
"You can't leave me!" He reached for her like a madman, desperate to seize her, to force answers.
His fingers nearly grazed her dress.
But an obsidian staff with the World Tree emblem inlaid at its tip materialized, precisely blocking his wrist.
The staff's owner had silently positioned himself before Genevieve.
No longer in a wheelchair, but standing on an ingeniously crafted prosthetic limb glowing with green energy—like the World Tree itself, rooted firmly to the earth.
Alan.
Without looking back at Genevieve, he fixed the out-of-control Alpha with a gaze that was somehow both warm and utterly crushing.
A wave of Alpha pheromones—heavy as mountains, vast as oceans—crashed down with overwhelming force.
"Stay away from my mate."
Under this irresistible pressure, Damian crumpled to the ground.
The altar descended into complete chaos. Family elders dragged away a still-cursing Seraphina. The Dracotts looked ashen, as if they'd aged decades in minutes. The Blackwood Pack leader's face darkened with fury.
At the storm's center, Alan calmly took Genevieve's hand and, flanked by shadow guards, walked through the chaos without a backward glance.
The chaos behind them no longer mattered.
After the scandal that rocked the capital's high society, peace finally returned.
The scandal cost Lord Dracott his council privileges, reducing him to a laughingstock. Seraphina remained confined by her family, reportedly in a fragile mental state.
Days later, Lady Dracott's visiting card arrived at Alan's estate, expressing her earnest wish to meet Genevieve "as a mother."
When the butler presented the card, Genevieve and Alan were enjoying the garden sunshine. Without even glancing at it, she told the butler: "Decline it. Tell her there is only one Miss Dracott—Seraphina. I'm simply a free werewolf who has purchased her independence."
Belated family affection was worth less than roadside weeds. She had no use for it.
Regarding Damian Blackwood, Alan's approach was direct and thorough.
He leveraged his family's influence to secure an agreement with the Blackwood Pack's Council of Elders. Damian was forbidden from coming within five kilometers of Alan and Genevieve's residence. Any violation would trigger immediate interception by shadow guards and severe punishment from the Council.
An invisible, unbreakable barrier now separated the unstable Alpha from their lives.
Genevieve's new life—filled with sunshine and peace—truly began.
