The moonlight bathed the destroyed sanctuary in silver, highlighting the extent of the devastation. My hands trembled as I knelt in the mud, carefully excavating what remained of the Moon-Lily roots. Ten years of work—reduced to a handful of mangled bulbs.

"These might still survive," I whispered to myself, brushing dirt from a partially intact root. "If I can nurse them back to health..."

Silver stirred within me, her presence a comforting warmth against the cold night air. *We should leave, Elena. Something feels wrong.*

"I can't," I murmured, gently placing the salvaged roots in a cloth. "Without these, Carson will—"

A low growl cut through the night.

My head snapped up, eyes scanning the treeline. The sound hadn't come from Silver.

*Danger,* she warned, her anxiety flooding my consciousness.

A pair of yellow eyes gleamed from the shadows between the trees. The rogue wolf emerged slowly, its matted fur hanging in clumps from its emaciated frame. Foam dripped from its mouth as it stalked toward me, drawn by the scent of blood from my scratched hands.

"Get away," I commanded, scrambling backward. My body still ached from Carson's Alpha command, my muscles protesting as I tried to rise.

The rogue lunged forward with surprising speed. I threw myself sideways, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Carson!" I called through our mind link, desperation overriding pride. "Rogue in the sanctuary. Help!"

There was a pause—then his response, cold and dismissive: *Stop seeking attention, Elena. Go to sleep.*

The link went silent. He'd blocked me out.

Panic surged through me as the rogue circled back, teeth bared. Silver howled within me, demanding release, but my weakened state made shifting impossible.

"You won't find what you're looking for here," I said, backing away step by step. "This place is dead."

The rogue snarled, then charged.

I barely had time to grab a glass beaker from my fallen supplies. As the wolf's jaws snapped at my throat, I smashed the container against its face.

The concentrated wolfsbane solution inside splashed across its eyes. The rogue yelped in pain, clawing at its face as the caustic liquid burned.

Seizing my chance, I scrambled to my feet and ran.

A sharp pain tore through my right arm as the rogue's teeth sank into flesh. I screamed, twisting away as its jaws locked tighter.

With my left hand, I grabbed another beaker—larger this time—and brought it down with all my strength. The glass shattered against the rogue's skull, sending it staggering backward.

Blood soaked my sleeve as I clutched my wounded arm. The venom already burned through my veins, sending waves of numbness spreading outward from the bite.

"Not my hand," I whispered, horror washing over me as I realized which arm the rogue had attacked. "Not my hand."

I stumbled through the forest, each step sending fresh agony through my body. The pack hospital—not the Alpha house—became my destination. I wouldn't give Carson or Bria the satisfaction of seeing me broken.

The fluorescent lights of the empty clinic hurt my eyes as I pushed through the doors. The night staff had gone home hours ago, leaving me alone with my injury.

"Let's see how bad it is," I murmured to myself, stripping off my blood-soaked jacket.

The bite was deep—four puncture wounds that had torn through muscle. Purple veins spread outward from the wound, carrying the rogue's venom through my system.

I gritted my teeth and reached for the surgical tools. With my left hand—my non-dominant hand—I cleaned the wound as best I could.

"The nerve," I whispered, probing the damage. "It's severed."

The numbness continued to spread, my fingers tingling then going limp. I tried to grip a scalpel but couldn't close my hand properly.

"I can't operate like this," I said aloud, the reality crashing down around me. "I can't heal like this."

Silver whined within me. *Then we leave.*

"Yes," I agreed, reaching for bandages to cover the wound. "We leave."

I moved methodically around the hospital, gathering only what I needed—bandages, painkillers, a small jar of healing salve. My movements were deliberate, controlled.

From a storage locker, I retrieved a small bag I'd hidden months ago—a contingency plan I never thought I'd use. Inside went a change of clothes, identification documents, and what little money I had saved.

As I sealed the bag, I caught my reflection in a chrome surgical tray. My face was pale, eyes hollow with resignation.

"I won't go to the ceremony tomorrow," I told my reflection. "I won't beg him to see me."

The numbness in my arm had reached my shoulder now, but it was nothing compared to the coldness spreading through my heart.

"I'm done," I whispered. "I'm finally done."

The morning light filtered through the clinic blinds, casting thin stripes across the sterile floor. I sat on the edge of a hospital bed, my right arm wrapped in bandages, the numbness now reaching my shoulder. The rogue's venom had worked quickly—too quickly for me to save my dominant hand.

The clinic door burst open with a bang that made me flinch. Luna Blackwood stood in the doorway, her elegant features twisted with worry.

"Elena," she said, her voice tight with urgency. "Where is Carson's Solstice dose? He's—" She stopped short when she saw my bandaged arm. "What happened to you?"

I met her gaze steadily. "Rogue attack. At the sanctuary."

"Sanctuary?" Confusion flickered across her face, then understanding. "The Moon-Lilies..."

"Destroyed," I confirmed, my voice hollow. "Every last one."

Luna Blackwood stepped closer, her perfume—expensive roses—filling the small room. "But Carson needs his medication. The Elders are gathering for the ceremony, and he's showing signs of..." She hesitated. "The tremors have started. His eyes are flashing violet."

I gestured to the empty vials lined up on the counter. "I have nothing left to give him."

"You must have something," she insisted, desperation edging into her tone. "A backup supply? Anything?"

Slowly, I unwrapped the bandage from my arm. The wound beneath was ugly—four puncture marks surrounded by purple-black venom tracks. But worse was the effect it had on my hand. I tried to flex my fingers and nothing happened.

"The lilies are dead," I said quietly. "The cure is gone. Ask your son why."

Luna's face drained of color. "What do you mean?"

"Last night, while I was trying to save what remained of my work, Carson used his Alpha command to force me into submission." The words tasted bitter on my tongue. "He chose Bria over his own survival."

---

The Great Hall of the Blackwood Pack House blazed with light and tension. From my position in the shadows, I could see every member of the pack gathered in their finest clothes, their faces solemn as they formed a circle around the central platform.

On the raised throne sat Carson, his posture rigid and unnatural. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool temperature of the hall. Beside him, Bria perched like a golden bird, her hand resting possessively on his arm.

The Former Alpha stood at Carson's right hand, his face a mask of stone. The Elders flanked the platform, their ancient eyes missing nothing.

"Where is Elena?" Former Alpha's voice carried across the hall. "The ceremony cannot begin without the Healer's blessing."

Carson's jaw clenched. "She's deliberately sabotaging me," he snarled, his voice already distorted by the madness creeping in. "She wants to see me fail."

Bria leaned close to him. "Perhaps she's finally realized she can't cure you," she murmured, just loud enough for nearby wolves to hear. "Maybe she's given up."

Carson's eyes flashed violet—a brief but unmistakable sign of the Feral Madness taking hold. "Find her," he ordered the guards standing at attention. "Bring her to me now."

Two Delta wolves immediately left the hall, their expressions grim.

The Former Alpha's gaze swept the assembly. "Until then, we wait."

---

I was halfway to the pack borders when the guards caught up with me. Their hands were rough as they seized my arms, dragging me back toward the Great Hall.

"You can't leave," one of them growled. "Alpha's orders."

"I'm not leaving," I lied smoothly. "Just gathering herbs."

They didn't believe me. Neither did I.

The hall fell silent as they dragged me through the crowd. Every eye followed my progress—the bandaged Healer being forced before the Alpha on the most sacred night of the year.

"Release her," Carson commanded from the platform.

The guards obeyed instantly, shoving me forward so I stumbled to my knees before the throne.

"Elena," Carson's voice was dangerously calm. "You have disappointed me for the last time."

I raised my eyes to meet his. The violet flashes were more frequent now, his pupils dilating and contracting erratically.

"You will synthesize a dose of Moonbane," he continued. "Now. Here. In front of everyone."

Bria's lips curved into a smile. "She can't possibly—"

"I can do nothing," I interrupted, rising slowly to my feet despite the pain shooting through my body. "I cannot synthesize what does not exist."

Carson's face contorted with rage. "What are you talking about?"

"The ingredients are gone," I said, my voice carrying across the silent hall. "You destroyed them yourself."

The assembly erupted in confused murmurs.

"Explain yourself," the Former Alpha demanded.

I turned to face the gathered pack, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "Last night, while I was trying to protect the last of the Moon-Lilies—the plants that would have cured our Alpha—Carson used his command to force me into submission while Bria and her friends destroyed every last plant."

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"You commanded me to stay down while they poisoned the soil," I continued, my gaze never leaving Carson's increasingly unstable form. "You chose her over your own sanity. There is no cure, Carson. Not for you."