The Blood Moon Pack's annual Moon Festival was approaching, and the air buzzed with excitement. For others, that is. For me, it meant more humiliation to endure.

I stood before the mirror in my tiny Omega quarters, trying to ignore the dark circles under my eyes. The wolfsbane Whitney had been slipping into my food had taken its toll—my skin was pale, my limbs weak. But I couldn't refuse to attend. The festival was mandatory for all pack members.

"Kya." A harsh voice cut through my thoughts. "Alpha Judson wants to see you in his office. Now."

I nodded at the messenger, a young Delta who couldn't quite hide his pity. "Thank you. I'll go right away."

The walk to Alpha Judson's office felt longer than usual, my poisoned body protesting each step. When I arrived, I kept my eyes lowered, as I'd been taught since childhood.

"You wanted to see me, Alpha?" I asked softly.

"Look at me when I speak to you," he commanded.

I raised my eyes to meet his cold gaze. My adoptive father—the man who had never shown me anything but contempt.

"The Moon Festival is tomorrow night," he said, circling me slowly. "You will attend as a servant, showcasing the strength of our alliance with the Silvermane Pack."

"I understand," I replied.

"Do you?" He stopped directly in front of me. "You understand that you are nothing but a pawn in my political game? That your entire purpose is to serve this pack's interests?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes, Alpha."

"Good." His hand shot out suddenly, striking me across the face with enough force to make me stumble backward.

The blow stung, but I didn't dare touch my cheek. "May I ask why, Alpha?"

"Because you've forgotten your place," he snarled. "Three years playing pretend Luna has given you ideas above your station. You are wolfless. Worthless. A defect."

His words cut deeper than his hand ever could.

"You will serve at the festival," he continued, "and you will remind everyone of exactly what you are—an Omega. Disposable. Understand?"

"Yes, Alpha," I whispered.

---

The full moon hung heavy in the night sky as the festival began. Lanterns illuminated the sprawling grounds, and the scent of roasted meat filled the air. Music played, wolves danced, but I had no time to enjoy any of it.

"Kya!" A Beta barked at me. "More wine for the northern tables!"

I nodded, lifting a heavy tray of crystal glasses. My arms trembled with the effort, my vision blurring from the accumulated wolfsbane in my system.

"Careful," the Beta warned. "Break anything and it comes from your rations."

I moved through the crowd slowly, my legs unsteady. Every step was agony, but I forced myself forward. Around me, pack members laughed and celebrated, their joy a stark contrast to my suffering.

As I approached the edge of the festival grounds, something caught my eye—a massive shadow moving among the trees. I paused, squinting through my blurred vision.

A figure stood at the edge of the forest, tall and imposing. Even from this distance, I could feel the power radiating from him. His eyes seemed to lock with mine for just a moment—eyes that glowed with an intensity that made my breath catch.

Lycan Prince Leandro.

I'd heard whispers of him—Austin's uncle, a royal among werewolves. What was he doing here, watching me?

Before I could wonder more, a strange warmth spread through my chest—brief but unmistakable. Then he was gone, melting back into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared.

"Kya!" Another voice shouted. "Stop daydreaming and get back to work!"

I hurried away, the strange moment forgotten as I continued my endless tasks.

---

The night was at its peak when the first scream tore through the festival.

"Rogues! Rogues at the perimeter!"

Panic erupted instantly. Music screeched to a halt as wolves transformed, preparing to defend their territory. Women and children were rushed toward the safety of the pack houses.

"Kya!" Someone grabbed my arm. "Run! Get inside!"

I tried to follow, but my poisoned legs gave out. The tray I'd been carrying crashed to the ground as I stumbled into an open clearing.

Around me, chaos reigned. Feral wolves burst through the trees, their eyes wild with bloodlust. Pack warriors rushed to meet them, but they were outnumbered.

I crawled desperately toward a fallen log, hoping for shelter. My vision swam, darkness creeping at the edges.

"Help," I whispered, though no one could hear me over the screams and growls.

A massive rogue lunged toward me, teeth bared. I closed my eyes, bracing for pain.

But it never came.

Instead, a thunderous roar shook the ground beneath me. Something huge and powerful landed between me and the rogue.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw only a massive shadowy form standing protectively over me—before everything went black.

The world around me was chaos—screams tearing through the night air, the thunderous growls of feral wolves, and the metallic scent of blood hanging heavy over the festival grounds. I struggled to my feet, my vision blurred from the wolfsbane poisoning, my legs trembling beneath me.

"Kya!" Someone shouted from behind me. "Get down!"

I turned instinctively, only to see Whitney running toward me, her perfect features twisted with something that looked almost like concern. Almost.

"Kya, watch out!" she screamed, her eyes wide with what I would later realize was not fear but calculation.

Before I could react, her hands slammed into my chest—hard. The force sent me stumbling backward, directly into the path of a massive rogue wolf that had broken through the defensive line.

"Whitney!" I gasped, shock paralyzing me more than fear.

Her lips curved into a smile that chilled me to my core. "Goodbye, sister," she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. "You were never supposed to survive this long anyway."

The rogue's eyes locked onto mine, hungry and vicious. Its massive jaws opened wide as it charged toward me, claws extended.

Time seemed to slow. I could see everything with terrible clarity—the rogue's yellowed teeth, the blood matting its fur, Whitney's triumphant expression as she scrambled safely away.

"Austin!" I screamed, a desperate instinctual cry.

He appeared suddenly at the edge of the clearing, his Alpha aura blazing like a beacon. For one heartbeat, our eyes met—and in that moment, I saw something flicker across his face. Recognition? Regret? It didn't matter. He had to choose.

Whitney screamed dramatically, throwing herself toward Austin. "Save me!"

The rogue was mere feet from me now.

Austin's choice was instant. He lunged forward with preternatural speed, wrapping his powerful arms around Whitney and shielding her body with his own.

"Stay down," he ordered her, his Alpha tone brooking no argument.

And then he turned his back on me.

The rogue hit me with the full force of its attack. Pain exploded across my chest and abdomen as its claws tore through flesh. I heard someone screaming—maybe it was me—as I fell backward, blood spraying in an arc beneath the full moon.

The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was Austin's broad shoulders protecting Whitney, while my blood soaked into the earth of the festival grounds.

---

Darkness. Then pain—sharp, insistent pain that dragged me back to consciousness.

I blinked, trying to focus my blurred vision. White ceiling. The antiseptic smell of the pack infirmary. The soft beeping of medical equipment.

"She's awake," someone murmured.

I turned my head slightly, wincing at the movement. Elena Rodriguez, the pack healer, stood beside my bed, her kind eyes filled with concern.

"Easy," she said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You're badly hurt."

Memory flooded back—the festival, Whitney's shove, the rogue's claws tearing into me. Austin's choice.

"How long?" I managed to whisper, my throat raw.

"Three days," Elena replied, checking my IV. "You lost a lot of blood."

I tried to sit up but gasped as pain lanced through my torso. Looking down, I saw bandages wrapped around my chest and stomach, dark spots of blood seeping through.

"The rogue got me pretty bad," I said weakly.

Elena's expression tightened. "Yes. Four deep lacerations across your torso. Another inch deeper and..." She trailed off.

I closed my eyes, remembering Austin's choice. "Did anyone else get hurt?"

"A few pack members, but nothing serious." Elena hesitated, then leaned closer. "Kya, there's something else."

Something in her tone made me look up sharply.

"While treating your wounds, I noticed something strange in your blood work." She glanced nervously toward the door before continuing. "There are high levels of wolfsbane in your system—levels that could only come from consistent, deliberate exposure."

My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. "Whitney," I whispered.

Elena nodded grimly. "I took samples for testing, but..." Another nervous glance at the door. "I can't report this. Not with Whitney's position and your father's... influence."

I understood immediately. Elena was afraid—afraid of what would happen if she spoke the truth.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, genuine regret in her eyes as she adjusted my blankets. "I wish I could do more."

"Don't worry," I murmured, closing my eyes against a fresh wave of pain. "I understand."

As Elena moved away to check on other patients, I lay alone in the narrow infirmary bed, surrounded by the sterile smell of antiseptics and the quiet beeping of monitors.

In that moment of clarity that comes with extreme pain, I realized that I truly was alone. No one would speak for me. No one would fight for me. If I wanted to survive, I would have to find a way to save myself.

And somewhere deep inside me, beneath the wolfsbane poisoning and years of submission, something stirred—something that felt strangely like the first awakening of my wolf.