Reborn And Remade: The Wolfless Bride's Revenge

Cori Stanton POV:

Brenda's face contorted with rage. She pointed a trembling finger at me. "Cori! You've gone too far! Those gifts are for the Pack!"

"You're a Rogue-to-be!" Beryl roared. "You have no right to take anything from the Stephenson family!"

Pierce Thorne, who had been standing silently, now stepped forward, his voice a smooth, persuasive balm. "Cori, darling, think of the Pack. Think of all the good that money could do. Surely, you don't need it all for yourself?" He tried to catch my eye, a practiced look of gentle disappointment on his face.

I watched them, my heart beating a slow, steady rhythm. The clock was ticking. The Ramirez delegation was coming.

"First," I began, my tone conversational, ignoring Pierce completely, "they are not from the Stephenson family. They are from the Ramirez Pack, for me. Second, I am taking Celeste's place. This is my compensation. And third, you can refuse. Then you can explain to Alpha King Calvin Ramirez why his bride 'accidentally' died right before the ceremony."

At the mention of Calvin's name, Brenda's fury faltered. Antagonizing the notoriously volatile, dying Alpha King was a risk not even she was willing to take.

Celeste began to sob quietly. "Sister, how can you be so greedy... That money is to help the Pack..."

Pierce, seeing his soft approach fail, tried a different tactic. "Cori, you know how much the Pack relies on these funds. It's for our future, for everyone's well-being." His words were meant to shame me, to appeal to the 'old Cori' who would sacrifice everything for others.

I ignored both Celeste and Pierce, my eyes fixed on Brenda. She was the only one with any real power in this house.

The minutes stretched on. Then, from outside, came the sound of a car engine. The Ramirez delegation has already arrived.

Brenda's face went ashen. She had no choice. She bit out the words to Beryl, her voice strained. "Get Marcus. Now."

Beryl shot me a look of pure hatred but turned and hurried out of the room. Celeste's fake tears stopped, her expression one of disbelief.

Brenda sank into a nearby chair, looking as if her strings had been cut. Her eyes, full of venom, promised retribution. "You will regret this, Cori."

I thought to myself, the only thing I regret is not doing this in my last life.

The wait for the lawyer was silent and heavy. I could feel the hateful stares of Beryl and Celeste, but they were no more bothersome than flies on a wall.

Ten minutes later, Beryl returned with a man in a sharp suit and gold-rimmed glasses. Marcus Price, the Stephenson Pack's legal counsel.

Marcus looked surprised by the tense atmosphere but remained professional. "Mrs. Stephenson, Do you have any urgent matters??"

Brenda waved a tired hand toward me. "She wants a Pack Severance Agreement. Effective immediately."

Marcus's eyebrows shot up. He pushed his glasses up his nose, his gaze shifting to me. "Miss Stanton, are you certain? According to ancient werewolf law, once signed, you forfeit all protection of the Pack. Your blood-mark will be erased from the Pack totem. It is irreversible." He was explaining the rules, as was his duty.

"I'm certain," I said.

"The agreement will also state," Brenda added, her voice dripping with resentment, "that all alliance gifts from the Ramirez Pack are her personal property."

This time, Marcus was genuinely stunned. His mouth opened slightly as he looked from me to Brenda, as if to check her sanity. Brenda just closed her eyes, unwilling to speak further. He understood. It was an order.

He took a tablet and a portable printer from his briefcase and began to draft the document, his fingers flying across the screen. Beryl and Celeste stood by, their faces pale with fury and defeat.

A few minutes later, a sheet of what looked like parchment was printed. He handed it to me. I read every clause carefully. Satisfied, I looked up.

Marcus offered a special pen, its tip embedded with a shard of moonstone, to Brenda. "your handwritten signature, Mrs. Stephenson."

Her hand trembling, she took the pen and signed her name.

The pen was passed to me. I signed my name without hesitation.

Marcus signed as the witness.

The moment his signature was complete, I felt it. A physical sensation, like an invisible shackle around my soul snapping in two. A wave of lightness washed over me. I was free. The connection to the Stephenson Pack was gone forever.

I carefully folded the precious agreement and tucked it into an inner pocket.

Brenda struggled to her feet, her voice a low hiss. "Now, you can go complete your 'transaction.' Put on the dress and get out."

I ignored her venom and turned toward the door. Just outside, a calm, dignified older man in a black suit was waiting patiently. He was Winston Powell, an Elder of the Ramirez Pack.

I gave him a slight nod. "Mr. Winston. Thank you for waiting."

Winston returned the gesture with impeccable respect, his eyes flicking for a moment to the scene behind me, a flicker of understanding in his gaze.