In the dead of night on the eve of the ceremony, a slender shadow ghosted through the corridors of White Wolf Island's maximum-security prison, bypassing the sweeping infrared grids with surgical precision to slip into the control room.
Charlotte's fingers flew across the keyboard, tapping out the final string of commands.
With a faint electronic hum, the entire matrix of digital locks jumped to green. She pushed open the heavy alloy doors without a sound and stepped into that damp, freezing purgatory.
"Who's there?" In the depths of a cell, a man with a jagged beard and eyes sharp as glass snapped to attention. It was the original host's captain of the guard—a fierce Alpha who had once held off a hundred men single-handedly.
"It's me." Charlotte pulled back her hood. As the moonlight through the narrow iron grate hit her pale, composed face, the dead silence of the prison shattered into chaos.
"Lady Charlotte…" the captain's voice cracked, his eyes brimming with red. "We thought you had... given up on us."
"Give up?" A mocking smile played on Charlotte's lips. "Give up isn't in my vocabulary. I'm here to tear it down and start over. Listen close: I don't just want a prison break at tomorrow's coronation. I want a total regime change."
She handed out small, pea-sized sensors—signal receivers she'd engineered based on werewolf DNA. "Tomorrow, I'm hacking the grid to scramble the island's automated turrets. That altar is going to be Valeria's grave."
"But I need you to cut off her retreat from the inside. Elena is with us now; she's picked the right side."
The captain gripped the sensor so hard his knuckles turned white. With bloodshot eyes, he dropped to one knee. "Lady Charlotte... we've waited so long for this. Just say the word. We'll tear this island inside out if we have to. There's no turning back."
She scanned the shadows. A sea of scars and broken bodies, yet their eyes—hell, their eyes burned like they were already dancing on Valeria's grave. A regal aura, more potent than any Alpha they'd ever known, radiated from her, silencing the room instantly.
"Tomorrow, I'm taking back everything that belongs to us."
As Charlotte turned to leave, dozens of her old guard knelt in a single, synchronized motion. The heavy, tragic weight of that moment was the heavy silence before the strike.
Just as she reached the exit, the system's warning shrieked in her head.
[WARNING! Magnus and his guards are approaching for inspection. Estimated time to contact: 60 seconds!]
Charlotte's eyes turned cold as ice. If she was caught now, the entire ambush would be dead in the water. She scanned her surroundings before locking her sights on the pitch-black depths of a wastewater pipe.
After hauling herself out of the freezing wastewater, she made a secret detour back to Rowan's quarters. Only five hours left until the clock hits zero.
"Strip." Rowan's voice was as biting as ever, but the long, slender fingers that usually held a scalpel with such steadiness were trembling.
She didn't argue. She bared her back, revealing the jagged electrical burns from the pulse-grids in the prison.
As Rowan meticulously applied a specialized regenerative salve, he let out a sharp scoff. "You really treat yourself like a piece of equipment, don't you, Charlotte? If you end up dead on that altar tomorrow, I'm the one who has to clean up the mess. You're going to be the death of me."
Despite the attitude, his touch was incredibly gentle. The cool ointment numbed the white-hot sting of the burns.
"Is that really what you're worried about?" Charlotte glanced back, her teasing smile making Rowan's ears turn bright red.
Rowan suddenly leaned in. Taking advantage of the close contact, he pulled a glowing blue vial from a silver case and pressed it into her hand.
"This is my only prototype of an 'Overclock' serum. it'll force a massive spike in your Alpha output for three minutes. Don't touch it unless it's a matter of life and death."
The lights in the room flickered, their shadows tangling together in a moment of extreme tension.
THUD!
The door was practically kicked off its hinges by a wave of violent Alpha energy. Before the dust could even settle, a low, guttural growl vibrated through the room, rattling the medicine vials on the shelves.
Ragnar stormed in, his face a map of pure rage. The moment his gaze snapped to Rowan's hand on Charlotte's bare shoulder, his eyes narrowed into lethal, blood-red slits.
"Get your hands off her, or I'll rip them off." Ragnar strode over, threw a coat over her to cover her up, and hoisted her onto his shoulder without a word of explanation.
"Ragnar, what the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed.
"I lost my mind the second I laid eyes on you!" Ragnar leaped out the window, carrying her as he leaped through the canopy until they reached the highest cliff-edge on White Wolf Island.
Up there, the gale whipped through her hair. Ragnar pulled a heavy scroll from his vest—the Royal Blood Pact of the Black Wolves.
"If things go south tomorrow, my entire cavalry is moving in. Even if they have to carve a path through a mountain of bodies, they are getting you out of here."
"Ragnar... you're burning your world down for me." She looked at the brute, a man built for war who had carved out a single soft space in his soul just for her. Something shifted in her chest—a sharp, unwelcome ache.
As they stood there, Edric appeared at the cliff's edge, his eyes calculating behind the glint of his glasses. "Ragnar, I hate to admit it, but... the Brown Wolves are with you. We're following her lead."
In that moment, the three Kings reached a tense but unbreakable truce, standing like an iron wall around her.
Charlotte stood at the edge, the wind howling around her, as she pointing at the kingdom below. "I'm ending the usurper's reign for good."
[Ding! Ragnar favorability +10%, Progress: 90%!] [Ding! Edric favorability +15%, Progress: 85%!] [Ding! Rowan favorability +15%, Progress: 85%!]
BONG—!
The first toll of dawn rang out. The coronation was about to begin.