The pack house loomed before me, its stone facade cold and imposing in the morning light. I clutched my portfolio tighter, my bandaged hands still throbbing from yesterday's humiliation. The security guard barely glanced at me as I entered—word had spread quickly about the Alpha's new entertainment.

"Ms. Ellis." Beta Marcus greeted me at the entrance to the conference room, his expression carefully neutral. "Alpha Davis is waiting for you."

I stepped inside, and my heart stopped.

Spread across the massive oak table were blueprints—our blueprints. Vintage, yellowed with age, showing a small cabin with a wraparound porch and floor-to-ceiling windows. The "Dream Cabin" Nolan and I had designed when we were teenagers, dreaming of a future together away from pack politics.

"Do you remember these?" Nolan's voice was soft, dangerous.

I couldn't speak. My fingers traced the lines of our past—the kitchen with the island we'd planned to cook together on, the bedroom with the skylight to watch the stars through.

"You kept them." The words escaped before I could stop them.

"I keep everything that belongs to me." His eyes flashed gold. "Including debts."

Kylie sauntered in, her perfectly manicured hand resting on Nolan's arm. "What's this? Ancient history?"

"These," Nolan said, tapping the blueprints, "are the foundation for our Pack House Extension. Jane will use these designs as the basis for your new wing."

I swallowed hard. "These were for a small cabin. A private retreat."

"Exactly." Nolan's smile didn't reach his eyes. "A private retreat for the Alpha and Luna. Now, show us how you'd transform this... peasant dwelling... into something worthy of the Silver Moon Pack."

For the next hour, I walked them through the designs, forced to point out every intimate detail we'd once planned together.

"This bedroom would be too small for the Luna's needs," I said professionally, ignoring the knife twisting in my chest.

"Enlargen it," Nolan commanded. "And remove that ridiculous skylight. Kylie prefers privacy."

As I sketched the changes, his voice slid into my mind through our mate bond.

*This is the life you threw away.*

I flinched but kept working, altering our dream piece by piece.

---

"The foundation should be complete by next week," Nolan announced as we stood in the muddy construction site three days later.

Rain poured down, soaking through my thin jacket. I shivered, wishing I'd checked the forecast before leaving my umbrella behind.

"This is disgusting," Kylie complained, her designer boots sinking into the mud. "Can't we do this another day?"

"We're on schedule," Nolan replied coldly. "Unless you have a problem with that, Jane?"

I opened my mouth to respond when I noticed something wrong with the foundation being laid. The concrete mixture looked off—too much water, not enough aggregate.

"That won't set properly," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

The contractor turned to me with surprise. "What do you mean?"

"The concrete-to-water ratio is wrong. If you pour it like that, it'll crumble under pressure."

Silence fell over the site. Nolan stared at me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

"She's right," the contractor admitted, checking his measurements. "Good catch."

For a split second, I saw the old Nolan—the one who admired my eye for detail, who valued my expertise. His wolf purred audibly, the mate bond flaring between us.

Then his expression hardened.

"You dare contradict a pack member?" he snarled, stepping closer. "Know your place, Omega."

The workers exchanged uncomfortable glances as he publicly berated me.

---

"The ceremonial robes need final adjustments," I explained to Kylie as I entered her suite with the garment bags.

She lounged on a velvet chaise, sipping red wine. "About time. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten who you're working for."

I laid the delicate silk robes on the bed—white for the Alpha, silver for the Luna.

"Try them on," I suggested, keeping my tone professional despite her hostility.

Kylie stood, slipping out of her silk wrapper to try on the ceremonial robe. The white fabric cascaded over her body, embroidered with the Silver Moon Pack's emblem.

"It's perfect," I said, reaching for the measuring tape.

"Of course it is." She twirled, then suddenly froze. Her eyes darted to the door as Nolan's footsteps approached in the hallway.

In one fluid motion, she dragged her claws across the silk, tearing the delicate fabric. Then she knocked over her wine glass, the red liquid splashing across her hand.

"Look what you made me do!" she screamed as Nolan burst through the door.

I stood frozen, watching the scene unfold with horror.

"She ruined it!" Kylie sobbed dramatically. "She deliberately made me spill wine on my robe!"

Nolan's eyes darkened as he surveyed the damage. The torn silk, the spilled wine, his mate's theatrical tears.

"Jane," he said, my name a warning on his lips. "Explain yourself."

The door burst open with such force that it slammed against the wall. Nolan stood there, his eyes blazing with fury as he took in the scene—Kylie's tears, the wine stain spreading across the ceremonial robe, the torn silk.

"What happened?" he demanded, his voice deadly quiet.

Kylie sobbed dramatically. "She attacked me! Out of jealousy, she—she deliberately made me spill wine on my robe!"

I stood frozen, my mind racing. "That's not true. She did it to herself."

Nolan didn't even look at me. His hand shot out, grabbing me by the throat. He slammed me against the wall, lifting me until my feet barely touched the floor.

"Jane," he growled, my name a curse on his lips. "What have you done?"

His claws dug into my skin, drawing blood. I could smell it—copper and salt—as it trickled down my neck.

"Please," I gasped, struggling to breathe. "I didn't—"

"Silence!" His grip tightened. "You dare touch my Luna? You dare?"

Black spots danced before my eyes as his fingers pressed against my windpipe.

"If you ever touch my Luna again," he hissed, his face inches from mine, "I will kill you."

He released me suddenly, and I crumpled to the floor, gasping for air.

"The robe costs twenty thousand dollars," he said coldly. "I'll deduct it from your wages."

My heart sank. Twenty thousand—that would wipe out everything I'd earned so far. Gordon's surgery...

---

"To make up for your... mistake," Nolan announced two days later, "you'll oversee the catering for our weekend run in the Hamptons."

I nodded numbly, still feeling the phantom pressure of his fingers around my throat.

"The pack leaves tomorrow morning," he continued, his eyes glittering with malice. "You'll need to be there early to prepare."

"I'll drive up after work," I said.

"No." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "No vehicles are allowed on the estate grounds. You'll need to take public transportation."

I blinked in surprise. The nearest bus stop was five miles from the estate.

"And," he added, "you'll need to bring the supplies yourself. No pack transport for you."

---

The bus dropped me at the dusty roadside just as the sun began to set. I hoisted the heavy bag of catering supplies onto my shoulder and started walking.

Five miles had never felt so far.

By the time I reached the estate gates, my shoes were caked with mud, and my arms ached from the weight of the supplies.

"Jane Ellis," the guard said with surprise. "Alpha didn't mention you'd be walking."

He escorted me to the service entrance, where I dropped my bags with relief.

---

The next morning dawned bright and clear—perfect for the pack run.

"Since you can't shift," Nolan announced to the gathered pack members, "you'll serve as a hare for the younger wolves to track."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"They won't hurt you," he assured me, his voice dripping with false concern. "Just chase you until they catch you."

The young wolves grinned eagerly, their eyes already shifting to gold.

I stood at the edge of the forest in my human form, wearing jeans and a light sweater that would offer no protection against the elements.

"Begin!" Nolan commanded.

I ran.

The forest floor was treacherous—roots snagged at my feet, branches whipped against my face. Behind me, I could hear the excited yips of the young wolves as they tracked me.

My sweater tore on a bramble. My jeans ripped as I stumbled over a fallen log. Blood trickled down my arm where a branch had scraped it raw.

From a ridge above, I caught a glimpse of Nolan watching me. His massive black wolf form stood motionless, observing my struggle with those piercing blue eyes.

Something strange happened then—his wolf whined, a low sound of distress that echoed through the clearing.

For a moment, our eyes met across the distance. I saw conflict there—his wolf wanting to protect me, while Nolan suppressed the instinct.

---

Night fell, and the pack gathered in the main lodge for their feast. I sat outside by the service entrance, cleaning the scrapes on my legs with cold water from a garden hose.

My hands trembled as I dabbed at the wounds. Each breath still hurt from where I'd been running all day.

"Here."

I jumped at the voice. Beta Marcus Thompson stood before me, holding out a first aid kit and a plate of food.

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

He looked uncomfortable. "You need it."

I flinched away from his outstretched hand. "What's the price?"

"No price," he said quietly. "I just..."

From the window above, I felt Nolan's gaze burning into us. His chest tightened as he watched Marcus offering me aid—and my fear of accepting it.

A strange, sharp pain lanced through him, and he pressed his hand against his chest, frowning.

"What are you doing, Marcus?" he called sharply.

Marcus straightened. "Just checking on the catering staff, Alpha."

As he walked away, I caught a glimpse of something in Nolan's eyes—something that looked almost like regret. But it vanished so quickly I must have imagined it.

After all, men like Nolan Davis didn't regret anything. Especially not when it came to women who'd rejected them.

Or so I thought.

My phone vibrated in my pocket as I was organizing the catering supplies for tomorrow's event. I pulled it out, hoping it wasn't another demand from Nolan.

"Ms. Ellis?" The voice on the other end was clinical, detached. "This is Nurse Patel from Manhattan General."

My heart skipped a beat. "Yes? Is everything okay with Elder Gordon?"

"I'm afraid not." Her voice softened slightly. "Mr. Gordon went into cardiac arrest thirty minutes ago. We've stabilized him for now, but the doctor says the surgery needs to happen tomorrow. Otherwise..."

She didn't need to finish the sentence.

"Tomorrow?" I gripped the phone tighter. "But the surgery isn't scheduled until next week."

"His condition has deteriorated significantly. The doctor says we can't wait any longer."

I closed my eyes, fighting back tears. "What about the cost? I've already paid the deposit."

"That's the other thing I needed to discuss with you." She hesitated. "Because of the complications, the procedure is more complex than originally anticipated. The price has increased."

My stomach dropped as she named the new figure.

"I understand," I whispered, though I didn't. How could this be happening?

After hanging up, I pulled out the check from Nolan—the one that had seemed like salvation yesterday. With the amount he'd deducted for Kylie's robe, it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

---

The pawn shop was tucked away on a side street, its neon sign flickering weakly in the afternoon light. I stood outside for several minutes, my hand clutching the small velvet pouch containing my parents' mating rings.

"These are all I have left of them," I whispered to myself, feeling the cool metal through the fabric.

With a deep breath, I pushed open the door. A bell jangled overhead, announcing my presence.

"Help you?" The broker was a heavy-set man with kind eyes that belied his gruff demeanor.

I approached the counter, my hand trembling as I placed the velvet pouch before him.

"I need to sell these."

He opened the pouch carefully, his expression changing as he examined the rings. "These are quality pieces. Antique?"

I nodded. "They were my parents' mating rings."

He looked up at me, something like understanding passing through his eyes. "You sure about this?"

"No," I admitted, my voice breaking. "But I need the money."

As he examined the rings under a magnifier, tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't help it—these were the last physical connection I had to my parents. The last pieces of my former life.

"Five thousand," he offered finally.

It wasn't enough, but it would help. I nodded, wiping away tears.

"I'll take it."

The broker reached for his paperwork, but before he could speak again, the bell above the door rang out.

"Interesting choice of establishments, Jane."

My blood froze at the sound of that voice. Nolan.

I turned slowly, finding him filling the doorway, his presence overwhelming in the small shop.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, instinctively stepping back.

"Following my property," he replied coldly. His eyes flicked to the rings on the counter. "Selling your parents' legacy just like you sold ours?"

The accusation hit me like a physical blow.

"You don't understand," I whispered.

"I understand perfectly." His lip curled in disgust. "You're either buying drugs or planning your next disappearance."

The broker looked between us, clearly uncomfortable.

"Five thousand for the rings," Nolan said abruptly, pulling out his wallet. "I'll take them."

"Nolan, no—" I started, but he cut me off.

"Six thousand." He slapped the cash on the counter. "And a check for ten thousand more."

The broker's eyes widened.

Nolan pulled out a checkbook, wrote quickly, then tore out the check and threw it at my feet.

"Take it and get out of my sight," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "I'll keep the rings until you learn what loyalty means."

I stared at the check lying on the dirty floor. Ten thousand dollars—enough for Gordon's surgery.

Slowly, feeling every eye in the shop on me, I bent down and picked up the check.

"Thank you," I whispered, though the words tasted like ash in my mouth.

Nolan's eyes flashed with something—surprise, perhaps, that I would thank him after such humiliation. But it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

He turned to leave, the rings now in his possession—my last connection to my parents, gone.

"Wait," I called out suddenly.

He paused at the door.

"Why?" I asked. "Why did you help me?"

For a moment, something vulnerable flickered across his face. Then his expression hardened again.

"I didn't do it for you," he said coldly. "I did it because no one deserves to lose everything they love."

The door closed behind him with a finality that echoed through my chest.