The candles were burning low, their wax pooling on the mahogany table like silent tears. I stared at the flame, my fingers tracing the rim of the wine glass I hadn't touched. Five years. It had been five years since Nicholas took the Alpha oath, five years since I severed the tether to my own wolf to pour my strength into his veins.

The clock on the wall ticked past midnight. The roast I had spent all afternoon preparing was stone cold.

Suddenly, the heavy oak door creaked open. The draft that followed chilled me to the bone, but not as much as the scent that wafted in before him. It wasn't the forest pine and rain that used to cling to Nicholas. It was roses. Sickly, sweet, overpowering roses.

Blaire Lewis’s signature perfume.

"You're still up," Nicholas said, his voice flat. He didn't look at me. He was busy unbuttoning his cuffs, his movements sharp and agitated. He looked exhausted, but there was a hardness in his jaw that hadn't been there a year ago.

"It's our anniversary, Nick," I said softly, standing up. My legs felt heavy. "The ceremony... remember?"

He paused, finally glancing at the table set for two. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, quickly replaced by a cold mask of indifference. "Dalia, I don't have time for sentimental dinners. The Council has been riding me all day about the upcoming Summit."

He walked past me to the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a stiff drink. The distance between us felt like a chasm.

"I just wanted to celebrate us," I whispered, the fight draining out of me.

Nicholas turned, glass in hand. His eyes, once warm like melted chocolate, were now shards of ice. "There is no 'us' in politics, Dalia. And right now, politics is what keeps this pack alive. Which brings me to what I needed to tell you."

My heart stuttered. "Tell me what?"

"The Elders... they've advised a restructuring of the living arrangements." He took a sip, grimacing. "With the Alpha Summit approaching, having an unranked, wolfless mate in the Alpha suite sends the wrong message. It makes us look weak. Vulnerable."

I couldn't breathe. "Weak? I gave up my wolf for you, Nicholas! I made you strong!"

"And now that sacrifice is a liability," he snapped, his voice rising. "You'll be moved to the Omega quarters tomorrow. It's just for optics, Dalia. Don't be dramatic."

Before I could scream, before I could throw the cold dinner at his feet, the siren wailed.

The sound tore through the night—the high-pitched screech signaling a border breach.

"Rogues!" Nicholas roared, the glass shattering in his hand as he shifted mid-stride, his clothes shredding as a massive black wolf burst through the patio doors.

I didn't think. Instinct, the ghost of the wolf I used to have, drove me to follow. I ran out into the chaos of the night. The air was thick with growls and the metallic tang of blood.

I reached the tree line, searching for the injured, for anyone who needed help. Suddenly, tworogues—mangy, feral things with yellow eyes—broke from the shadows. They circled me, drool dripping from their jaws. I was defenseless. No claws. No shift. Just human frailty.

*Nicholas!* I screamed through the mind-link, the mental connection that had grown faint over the months. *Nicholas, help me! The East ridge! Two rogues!*

I felt him receive the message. I felt his presence nearby. Hope surged in my chest.

Then, I heard his Alpha Command thunder across the clearing, vibrating in my very bones.

"**ALL ELITES! FLANK THE NORTH! PROTECT LADY BLAIRE!**"

My blood ran cold. Blaire was on the North ridge. I was in the East. He knew where I was. He chose her.

The first rogue lunged.

Pain exploded in my shoulder as teeth sank into flesh. The force threw me backward, and I tumbled down the steep ravine, branches whipping my face, rocks tearing at my skin. I hit the bottom with a sickening crack, the world spinning into darkness. The last thing I saw before blacking out was the blurred shape of Beta Marcus rushing down the slope, snarling at the shadows.

***

When I opened my eyes, the sterile white of the pack hospital blinded me. The smell of antiseptic stung my nose.

Elena was wrapping my shoulder, her expression tight with suppressed rage. "You're awake," she murmured, her voice trembling. "You're lucky Marcus got there when he did, Dalia."

The door swung open. Nicholas walked in. He didn't rush to my side. He didn't look relieved. He looked... inconvenienced.

"You shouldn't have been out there," he said, standing at the foot of the bed. No 'are you okay.' No 'I'm sorry.'

"I called for you," I rasped, my throat raw. "You heard me."

"Blaire was injured," he said smoothly, though I could smell the lie on him. "She is a guest of the Royal Pack. Her safety is paramount for our alliance."

"She sprained her ankle, Nicholas!" I cried, tears finally spilling over. "I was being mauled!"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Stop acting like a victim. If you still had your wolf, you could have defended yourself. Instead, you were a distraction. My warriors had to break formation to save you."

He checked his watch, already turning to leave. "Get some rest. You're moving to the Omega quarters as soon as you're discharged. And Dalia?"

He paused at the door, his back to me.

"I'm taking Blaire to the Alpha Summit next week. She knows the protocols. It's strictly business."

The door clicked shut.

The silence that followed was louder than any scream. He didn't just break my heart; he looked at the pieces and decided they weren't worth sweeping up.

The Alpha Summit was supposed to be a celebration of strength, a gathering of the most powerful wolves in the region. For me, it was a sentence.

I smoothed the rough fabric of the servant’s uniform over my hips, the coarse material scratching against my skin. Just days ago, I had shared a bed with the Alpha of this pack. Now, I was pouring wine for men who wouldn’t even look me in the eye.

The Great Hall was suffocating. Heavy velvet drapes blocked out the moonlight, and the air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and expensive cologne. Laughter boomed from the head table, where Nicholas sat. He looked regal, powerful—everything I had sacrificed my wolf to help him become. Beside him sat Blaire Lewis, shimmering in a gown of silver silk that clung to her like second skin. She leaned into him, whispering something that made the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

My chest ached, a physical throb right behind my ribs where my wolf used to be.

"More wine, girl," a heavy-set Alpha from the Southern territories grunted, thrusting his goblet at me without turning his head.

"Yes, Alpha," I murmured, my voice trembling as I filled his glass. My hands shook. I was terrified of spilling a single drop, terrified of giving Nicholas another reason to look at me with that cold, detached stare.

The chatter in the room suddenly died down. The silence started at the head table and rippled outward until the only sound was the crackling of the hearth fire.

Blaire stood up. She held a small, velvet box in her hands. The room watched, captivated, as she turned to Nicholas.

"Alpha Cook," she began, her voice melodic and projecting effortlessly to the back of the hall. "Your leadership has brought the Silver Moon Pack into a new era of prosperity. My father, the Alpha King, recognizes your strength. But strength requires partnership."

She opened the box.

Inside lay a necklace of pure, uncut moonstone, suspended on a chain of white gold. A collective gasp swept through the room. I felt the blood drain from my face. Moonstone wasn't just jewelry. In our culture, giving moonstone was a courting gift—a declaration of intent to mate. It was a promise.

Nicholas stared at the stone. For a second, just a heartbeat, his eyes flickered toward me. I was standing in the shadows near a pillar, clutching a heavy tray of crystal glasses. Our eyes met. I pleaded with him silently, begging him to remember the nights we spent under the stars, the pain I endured to give him his power. *Don't do this, Nick. Please.*

He looked away.

He looked at the Elders sitting in the front row. They nodded, their expressions grim and approving. He looked at Blaire, who smiled with the confidence of a woman who had already won.

"I accept your gift," Nicholas said, his voice deep and resonating. "And the honor it brings."

Blaire moved closer, her fingers brushing the nape of his neck as she fastened the clasp. The intimacy of the gesture was a slap in the face. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, lingering just long enough to leave a mark of her dark red lipstick.

The tray slipped from my numb fingers.

*Crash.*

The sound of shattering crystal was deafening in the silent hall. Shards of glass exploded across the stone floor, wine splashing like blood against the pristine boots of the nearby guests.

Every head turned. Nicholas stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. His face wasn't filled with concern. It was twisted with humiliation.

"Clean it up," he snarled, his Alpha tone making my knees buckle. "Now."

I dropped to my knees, picking up the jagged pieces with bare hands. A shard sliced my palm, but I didn't feel the pain. I only felt the burning shame of his rejection, public and absolute.

***

The humiliation didn't end with the night.

The next morning, the sun had barely crested the horizon when the door to my small room in the servants' quarters was kicked open. Two of the pack's enforcers marched in, followed by Blaire. She looked fresh and vibrant, while I was still wearing the wine-stained uniform from the night before.

"Search the bed," she commanded, her nose wrinkling as she looked around my cramped space.

"What is going on?" I asked, scrambling backward against the wall. "Blaire, what are you doing?"

"That's *Lady* Blaire to you, traitor," she spat.

The enforcer flipped my thin mattress. There, taped to the wooden slats, was a small black device blinking with a faint red light.

"Found it," the guard said, ripping it free. "High-frequency transmitter. Military grade."

My stomach dropped. "I've never seen that before! Someone put that there!"

"Save it for the Alpha," Blaire said, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "Drag her to the courtyard."

They hauled me out, my bare feet scraping against the gravel. The commotion drew a crowd. Pack members, visiting dignitaries, and Nicholas all gathered in the center of the compound.

Blaire tossed the device at Nicholas's feet. "We found this under her mattress, Nicholas. It contains the patrol routes for the entire northern border. The exact location where the rogues attacked us."

The murmurs of the crowd turned into angry growls.

"That's a lie!" I screamed, struggling against the guard's grip. "Nicholas, look at me! You know me! I gave up everything for you! Why would I help rogues attack us?"

Nicholas picked up the device, turning it over in his hand. His expression was unreadable, a mask of stone.

"Use your senses!" I begged, tears streaming down my face. "Smell the device! Does it smell like me? Or does it smell like *her*?"

I pointed a shaking finger at Blaire. Her scent was floral and sweet, masking everything, but an Alpha of his power could push past it. He could taste the truth in the air if he wanted to. He could feel my distress, my honesty through the bond that still faintly pulsed between us.

Nicholas looked at the device. Then he looked at Blaire. She offered him a look of feigned concern, a silent reminder of the alliance, the power, the crown that awaited him.

He didn't sniff the air. He didn't reach for our bond.

He closed his fist around the transmitter.

"Lock her in the cells," Nicholas ordered, his voice devoid of emotion. "We will decide her punishment after the Summit concludes."

"Nicholas!" I screamed as they dragged me away. "I am your mate!"

He turned his back on me, walking toward Blaire, leaving me to the darkness of the dungeons and the crushing weight of a truth I finally had to accept: the boy I loved was dead, and the Alpha who replaced him was my executioner.

The dungeon smelled of damp earth and despair. I huddled in the corner of the cell, my knees pulled to my chest, shivering not from the cold, but from the memory of Nicholas’s back as he walked away from me.

Footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. Heavy. Purposeful. I knew that rhythm. My heart gave a traitorous leap, even after everything.

Nicholas stopped in front of the iron bars. He was still wearing his ceremonial Alpha robes, the velvet dark against the torchlight. He didn’t unlock the door. He just stood there, looking at me like I was a stranger he’d once met in a dream.

"The Council wants an execution," he said. His voice was devoid of warmth, stripped of the love that used to make my toes curl. "Treason carries a death sentence, Dalia."

I scrambled to the bars, gripping the cold iron. "I didn't do it, Nick. You know I didn't. Blaire planted that device!"

He held up a hand, silencing me. The movement was sharp, dismissive. "It doesn't matter what I know. It matters what the pack sees. They see a weak, wolfless mate who endangered us all. They see a liability."

He took a breath, his jaw tightening. "But I am offering you mercy."

"Mercy?" I whispered, hope flickering like a dying candle.

"You have two choices," he said, his eyes hard as flint. "One: you publicly reject me as your mate. You admit your crimes, break the bond, and leave these lands as a Rogue. You never return."

My breath hitched. To be a Rogue was a death sentence in itself. Without a pack, without protection, I wouldn't last a week.

"And the second choice?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"You stay," he said, and for a second, I thought he meant as his mate. "As an Omega. You will serve the pack. You will serve... the new Luna. You will be stripped of your name and rank, but you will be alive."

The air left the room. He wanted me to watch. He wanted me to scrub the floors while Blaire sat on the throne I helped him build. He wanted me to serve the woman who framed me.

"You would do that to me?" I choked out, tears burning my eyes. "After I gave up my wolf for you?"

"I need the Royal Alliance, Dalia!" he snapped, his composure cracking for the first time. "I need an heir with strong blood! You are broken. You are empty. I cannot build a legacy on weakness."

He turned away, unable to look at the devastation on my face. "Make your choice by dawn. Or the execution stands."

He left me in the darkness, taking the last pieces of my heart with him.

***

Hours later, the lock clicked. I flinched, expecting the executioner. Instead, the heavy door swung open to reveal Marcus.

Nicholas's Beta looked haggard, dark circles bruising the skin under his eyes. He held a bundle of dark clothes in his hands.

"Marcus?" I breathed.

"Put these on," he hissed, tossing the bundle to me. "Hurry."

"What are you doing? Nicholas will kill you if he finds out."

"He's not the Alpha I swore an oath to anymore," Marcus growled, keeping watch at the door. "He's lost his way, Dalia. And I won't watch him murder his true mate for a crown."

I pulled the rough tunic over my head, my hands shaking. Marcus led me through the back tunnels, avoiding the guards he had likely bribed or distracted. The night air hit me like a physical blow when we emerged near the riverbank. The storm Nicholas had ignored was raging now, rain lashing down in sheets.

"There's a small boat tied under the willow," Marcus shouted over the wind. "The current is strong, but it will take you to the neutral territories. From there... you're on your own."

I looked at the churning black water. It was suicide. But staying was worse.

"Wait," I said. I grabbed a jagged rock from the ground and slashed my palm. Blood welled up, hot and metallic. I smeared it over the spare tunic Marcus had given me, then tore the fabric. I tossed the bloody rag onto the muddy bank, right where the water lapped at the shore.

"Let him think I drowned," I said, my voice hollow. "If he thinks I'm dead, he won't hunt me. And Blaire won't send assassins."

Marcus looked at the blood, then at me, sorrow etched into his features. "Goodbye, Luna Dalia."

"Just Dalia," I corrected softly. "I'm no one's Luna now."

I pushed the boat into the river. The current grabbed it instantly, spinning me away into the dark, violent night. I didn't look back at the Silver Moon pack house. I didn't look back at the home I had sacrificed my soul to protect.

***

I didn't remember the boat capsizing. I didn't remember the freezing water filling my lungs or the rocks that battered my body like a ragdoll.

I only remembered the pain.

When I opened my eyes, everything was white. Not the sterile white of a hospital, but a soft, glowing mist. I was lying on sand, coughing up water that tasted like mud and death.

"Easy, child." The voice was deep, vibrating through the ground beneath me.

I squinted against the harsh sunlight. A man stood over me. He was massive, radiating a power so intense it made the air ripple around him. His eyes were golden, like molten coins.

"Who..." I rasped, trying to sit up. Agony shot through my ribs.

"I am Alpha Jasper," he said simply. He didn't ask who I was. He didn't demand my rank. He knelt, scooping me up into his arms as if I weighed nothing. "You washed up on Shadow Valley land."

"Kill me," I whispered, my head lolling against his chest. "Just finish it. I'm a rogue."

"You are not a rogue," he murmured, walking steadily toward a cabin nestled in the trees. "I can feel it. There is a spark in you. Faint, buried deep... but burning."

He kicked open the door to the cabin. The scent of drying herbs and woodsmoke washed over me. An older woman with silver hair looked up from a mortar and pestle.

"Mother," Jasper said, laying me gently on a cot. "She's fading. Her spirit is locked."

The woman—Luna Catherine—rushed over, placing her hands on my forehead. Her touch was electric. "By the Goddess," she gasped. "Someone bound her wolf. They crushed it down until it nearly died."

"Can you save her?" Jasper asked. His voice held a strange urgency.

"I can break the bind," she said, her eyes glowing white. "But the awakening... it will be violent."

She began to chant. ancient words that sounded like the earth shifting. Heat surged through my veins, scalding and terrifying. It started in my chest, right where the emptiness had been for five years.

*Crack.*

My spine arched off the cot. A scream tore from my throat, raw and animalistic. It felt like my bones were being pulverized and knitted back together all at once.

"Hold her down, Jasper!" Catherine shouted.

Jasper's heavy hands pinned my shoulders, but the force inside me was growing, expanding, exploding. The dormant presence I had silenced for Nicholas was waking up. And she was furious.

Another crack echoed through the room. My vision went red.

*I am here,* a voice roared in my head, loud as thunder. *I AM HERE.*

The pain consumed me, and for the first time in forever, I wasn't alone in the dark.