"A tribunal summons tomorrow?" My voice cracked. "Trent already filed the Heritage Claim?"
"He did," Tristan confirmed, leaning against the stone balustrade, a charge crackling off him. "Invoking the retroactive asset recovery clause. He wants to force you into a diagnosticcircle to magically expose the Pack-Heart lines to the high council."
The panic returned instantly.
"He knows?" I gasped. "You promised the silver lines were hidden?—"
"He doesn't know for certain," Chris said, stepping out of the shadows near the glass door. "He suspects a high-value biological anomaly based on your scent load. The public claim Hayes just initiated blocks the immediate summons. It forces Trent to negotiate a formal inter-pack diplomatic dispute in court rather than executing a rapid extraction tomorrow."
"So you used me to block the tribunal summons," I said bitterly. "That's why I was dragged here tonight. You needed a witnessed public claim, and I was the one who had to stand there for it."
The betrayal of overhearing them the night before returned, sharp and hot. I ripped my hands from Hayes's grasp and stepped back until the cold balustrade pressed against my spine.
"You threatened to evict my friend to drag me here. You paraded me in front of everyone who hates me most — just to play legal chess with Trent."
"We usedourdynasty names as a shield foryou," Hayes said sharply, stepping forward, the feral gold in his eyes reacting to my physical rejection of the bond. "I just publicly tied the entire ancient Aldridge legacy to a publicized broken contract. My father is going to try to burn this campus to the ground when he finds out what I did to his bloodline. The social suicide is reciprocal."
"A remarkably bold strategy."
The smooth, aristocratic voice slithered out from the darkest edge of the terrace.
Trent Hawthorne stepped out of the shadows, flanked by his two beta enforcers, holding a crystal tumbler of whiskey, an unbothered smile on his face.
The three alphas reacted instantly. Tristan pushed off the balustrade into immediate combat readiness. Chris blurred silently to cut off the only exit back to the ballroom. Hayes went rigid, his aura slamming down onto the terrace with a crushing weight that made the Northern enforcers flinch.
"I told you yesterday the courtyard was off-limits for envoys," Hayes said, deadly calm. "The private terrace is strictly reserved for active students and faculty. You're trespassing."
"I'm an invited VIP guest of Dean Ashcroft," Trent dismissed, taking a slow sip of his whiskey.
His cold eyes slid past Hayes and locked onto me. The dark hunger in his gaze made the Pack-Heart lines throb with a painful warning.
"Black velvet is an improvement from the cheap rags you were wearing when I severed our contract," he drawled. "A gilded Southern cage suits you."
"Don't speak to her," Tristan snarled.
"It's fine, Tristan," I said.
The three words surprised me as much as they surprised the alphas. My voice didn't waver. It wasn't the weak, submissive whisper I'd used in the courtyard.
A fierce wave of clarity cut through the panic saturating my system.
I looked at Trent — the impeccable suit, the arrogant smile, the biological certainty that he owned my soul because he'd once paid a political dowry for my obedience.
I was terrified of the Pack-Heart artifact humming in my chest. I was furious with the three alphas for deciding my fate behind closed doors. But looking at Trent's smug face, I finallyunderstood the truth I'd missed since the night of the winter gala.
He hadn't broken my soul. He lacked the capacity. He'd set me free from a cage built by a political coward.
"You severed the preliminary tether," I said, stepping slightly past Hayes's broad shoulder to stand on my own two feet. My voice gained strength as I spoke. "You told me I was biologically useless. You declared to the Northern elite that I was defective and incapable of sustaining a high-tier bond."
Trent's smirk hardened, caught off guard by my refusal to submit.
"You are defective," he sneered, mask slipping to reveal the cruelty beneath. "The only reason these three Southern idiots are surrounding you is because their rescue instincts temporarily overrode their common sense. You remain a disappointment."
"No." I met his gaze directly, without dropping my eyes. "They're surrounding me because I am more biologically valuable than your entire bloodline will ever be, and you were far too arrogant and pathetically weak to handle the baseline frequency of a real bond."
Trent's jaw clenched. The heavy crystal tumbler cracked audibly under his grip.
"You're walking a suicidal legal line tonight," he threatened, voice dropping. "The retroactive clause in your paperwork?—"
