The grand ballroom of the Silverwood packhouse glittered with crystal chandeliers and polished marble, a stark contrast to the darkness brewing in my heart. I stood at the entrance, my fingers nervously adjusting the strap of the silver sequined gown Ryan had demanded I wear. The fabric scratched against my skin, uncomfortable and restrictive—much like my life as Luna of this pack.

"You'll wear this, and you'll smile," Ryan had ordered earlier, his Alpha tone leaving no room for argument. "The pack expects their Luna to look the part."

Now, as we entered the Anniversary Gala, he didn't even glance my way. His hand rested on the small of Alaina's back instead, guiding her through the crowd as if she were his Luna, not me.

"Sylvia, you look... interesting," Alaina said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she passed me. Her emerald gown flowed effortlessly around her curves, custom-made to perfection. "I'm surprised you found something that could accommodate your... medical figure."

I swallowed the retort that rose to my lips. My "medical figure"—the body that had spent countless hours in operating rooms saving pack members' lives—was apparently something to be ashamed of.

"Ignore her," my wolf, Lily, growled inside me. "She's just jealous because you have actual purpose besides looking pretty."

Ryan's laugh echoed across the room as Alaina whispered something in his ear. He threw his head back, displaying the strong jawline that once made my heart flutter. Now it just made me nauseous.

"Alpha Ryan! Luna Sylvia!" Pack members bowed slightly as we passed, though their eyes lingered curiously on the distance between us. Everyone could see the truth—the Alpha and his Luna were strangers at best, enemies at worst.

Ryan grabbed a champagne flute from a passing server and handed it to Alaina with a flourish. "To another year of Silverwood's prosperity," he announced, completely ignoring me.

I stood alone in the crowd, a ghost at my own party.

"Truth or Dare!" Alaina's voice cut through the music suddenly. She had climbed onto a small platform, her voice amplified by the microphone she'd somehow acquired. "Everyone gather round! No Silverwood celebration is complete without our traditional game!"

Pack members cheered and formed a circle around her. Ryan stood beside her, his eyes shining with excitement—the same excitement he used to show when he looked at me.

"Everyone must participate," Alaina continued, her gaze finding mine across the room. "Especially our... essential pack members."

My pager vibrated at my hip just as the music died down. I glanced at it discreetly—a message from the hospital. Probably nothing urgent, I thought, slipping it back into my clutch. The game would be over soon enough.

"I'll start!" Alaina announced. "I choose dare!"

Ryan smirked. "I dare you to kiss the person to your right."

Alaina's "right" was Ryan himself. She pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering longer than appropriate. The pack cheered, but I heard several uncomfortable murmurs.

When it came to my turn, Alaina's eyes gleamed with malice.

"Sylvia, truth or dare?" she asked, her voice carrying across the now-silent room.

"Truth," I replied quietly.

"Tell us," she said, stepping closer, "how does it feel knowing your mate would rather kiss me than you?"

The room fell deadly silent. Ryan's jaw tightened, but he said nothing to defend me.

Before I could answer, my pager blared again—louder this time, more insistent. I pulled it out, my heart racing as I read the message:

"CODE RED: TRAUMA ALERT - HIT AND RUN VICTIM ARRIVING - SURGICAL TEAM NEEDED IMMEDIATELY"

Then, like a bolt of lightning through my mind, came the frantic mind-link:

"Sylvia! Oh goddess, Sylvia! It's Margaret—the former Luna! She's been hit by a car! She's bleeding out! We need you NOW!"

I gasped, dropping my champagne flute. It shattered on the marble floor, the sound echoing through the silent room.

"Ryan," I whispered, my voice trembling. "It's your mother. She's been in an accident. I need to go to the hospital now."

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "This is hardly the time for—"

"It's not a joke!" I cried, already moving toward the exit. "She needs surgery immediately!"

Alaina's laugh cut through my panic. "Oh, Sylvia. Always so dramatic. Always running away when things get uncomfortable."

I turned to face them both, my medical training kicking in as I assessed the situation with clinical precision. "Your mother is dying, Ryan. I'm the only surgeon who can perform the procedure she needs. If we don't leave now—"

"Enough!" Ryan's Alpha command slammed into me like a physical blow. I felt my mind-link with him shut down completely as he blocked me out. "You're embarrassing yourself and this pack."

The room spun around me as Alaina's triumphant smile widened.

"Let's continue the game," she announced to the pack. "Clearly, our Luna has other... priorities."

My pager continued to blare in my trembling hands, its urgent cry for help drowned out by the returning music and laughter of the gala.

The pager's incessant blaring pierced through the haze of champagne and music. My heart hammered against my ribs as I stared at the message again, just to be sure.

CODE RED: TRAUMA ALERT - HIT AND RUN VICTIM ARRIVING - SURGICAL TEAM NEEDED IMMEDIATELY

Then Margaret's desperate mind-link crashed into me again: "Sylvia! It's me—your mother-in-law! I've been hit by a car! I'm bleeding out! We need you NOW!"

I jumped up from the table so quickly my chair toppled backward, crashing onto the marble floor. The sound echoed through the suddenly silent ballroom.

"Everyone stay calm," I announced, my voice carrying across the room as I grabbed my medical bag from beside my chair. "There's been a serious accident. The former Luna—Ryan's mother—has been hit by a car. She needs immediate surgical intervention."

I could feel the weight of every gaze in the room. Some faces showed concern, others confusion. But I didn't have time to explain further.

"I need to get to the hospital now," I continued, already moving toward the exit. My fingers trembled as I checked my watch. "Every minute counts in trauma situations."

Lily, my wolf, growled anxiously inside me. "Hurry! Margaret saved us once—we have to save her!"

I pushed through the crowd, my sequined gown catching on someone's jewelry. I yanked it free, my mind already racing through surgical procedures and possible complications.

"Margaret's injuries are severe," I muttered to myself, recalling her mind-link. "Internal bleeding, possible ruptured spleen..."

I was almost at the exit when a figure stepped deliberately into my path. Alaina's emerald gown shimmered under the chandeliers as she blocked my way, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Oh, no you don't," she said, her voice dripping with false concern. She turned to address the crowd. "Everyone, I'm afraid our Luna is having another one of her... episodes."

The room fell silent. I could feel the pack's collective breath held in anticipation.

"What are you doing?" I hissed at her. "This is a medical emergency!"

Alaina's smile widened as she stepped closer, her silver-tipped stiletto heels clicking on the marble floor. "Always so dramatic, Sylvia. Always running away when things get uncomfortable."

She turned back to the crowd, her voice rising. "Did you all hear that? She's claiming the former Luna has been in an accident! On tonight of all nights—our pack's Anniversary Gala!"

Murmurs rippled through the gathering. I could see doubt creeping into their expressions.

"Alaina, please," I begged, trying to step around her. "I don't have time for this."

"Everyone," Alaina announced, her voice carrying to every corner of the ballroom, "our Luna is faking a medical crisis to get out of our game! She's been caught red-handed!"

The crowd's murmurs grew louder. Someone laughed nervously.

"That's not true!" I protested, my voice cracking with desperation. "Check my pager! Call the hospital!"

Before anyone could move, Ryan stepped forward, his Alpha aura radiating power and authority. He stood beside Alaina, his eyes cold as he looked at me.

"Enough, Sylvia," he said, his Alpha tone vibrating through the room. "You're embarrassing yourself and this pack."

"Ryan, please," I pleaded, holding out my pager. "It's your mother! She needs me!"

He didn't even glance at the device. Instead, he turned to the crowd, his voice filled with mockery.

"My mate seems to have forgotten her last... medical emergency," he said, making air quotes with his fingers. "Does anyone remember when she claimed to have wolfsbane poisoning? Running a fever of 102?"

The pack members exchanged knowing glances. Some nodded.

"She was perfectly fine," Ryan continued, his eyes never leaving mine. "Just looking for attention."

My cheeks burned with humiliation as memories of that night flooded back—the fever, the hallucinations, Ryan's accusations that I was making it all up.

"That wasn't the same!" I protested, my voice barely audible over the growing whispers. "I really was poisoned!"

"The pattern is clear," Ryan said dismissively. "Whenever Sylvia doesn't want to participate in pack activities, she invents some medical crisis."

Alaina nodded solemnly beside him, her expression a perfect mask of concern. But I caught the gleam of satisfaction in her eyes.

"Ryan," I whispered, one last desperate attempt. "This isn't about me. It's your mother."

His Alpha command slammed into me like a physical blow, cutting off any further protest. "That's Alpha Ryan to you," he growled. "And you will not speak of my mother that way."

The room spun around me as the weight of his betrayal crushed down. Behind him, Alaina's smile widened, victorious and cruel.

I lunged forward, my shoulder slamming against Alaina's chest. "Move!" I shouted, my voice raw with desperation. "This isn't a game! Margaret is dying!"

Alaina stumbled backward, her eyes widening in surprise. For a moment—just a moment—I saw uncertainty flicker across her face.

"Ryan," I pleaded, turning to my mate. "Please, just listen to me. Just for a second."

I closed my eyes, focusing all my energy on re-establishing the mind-link with the hospital. If I could just connect, if the pack could just hear the truth...

"Emergency room to Dr. Lawson," I whispered, projecting my thoughts outward. "We have a Code Red trauma alert. The former Luna has been hit by a car. We need you immediately."

I felt the faintest connection forming—a thread of consciousness reaching out toward the hospital. Hope fluttered in my chest.

Then Ryan's hand clamped down on my shoulder, his fingers digging into my flesh.

"Enough of this charade," he growled, his Alpha aura expanding around us like a suffocating cloud.

I felt it coming—the crushing weight of his Alpha command. But I wasn't prepared for the violence of it.

"SILENCE!" he roared, his voice reverberating through my skull.

The command hit me like a physical blow. I staggered, my knees buckling as the force of his power slammed into my consciousness. Inside me, Lily howled in agony as our connection to the outside world was violently severed.

"Sylvia!" Lily's voice echoed in my mind, growing fainter with each passing second. "Sylvia, I can't reach you anymore!"

I tried to respond, but my thoughts felt thick and sluggish, trapped inside my own head.

"Ryan," I gasped, clutching at my temples. "What have you done?"

His eyes were cold, unmoved by my suffering. "I've blocked your mind-link completely. You won't be able to communicate with anyone—not the hospital, not the pack, not even your precious wolf."

Alaina stepped forward, her lips curved in a triumphant smile. "Now you can't spread your lies."

"I need to get to the hospital," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "Please, Ryan. If you won't believe me, at least let me go."

Ryan's grip tightened on my arm. "You need to learn your place in this pack," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You need to understand that there are consequences for your behavior."

"I'm the Luna!" I protested, my voice breaking. "I'm your mate!"

"No," he said simply. "You're a liar and an embarrassment."

Alaina moved to my other side, her manicured fingers digging into my flesh. "We need to teach her a lesson about pack obedience," she murmured to Ryan.

Before I could react, they began dragging me away from the gala floor. I struggled against their grip, but Ryan's hold was unbreakable.

"Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing wildly. "You're making a terrible mistake!"

The pack members parted before us, their faces a blur of curiosity and discomfort. Some looked away, embarrassed by the spectacle. Others watched with undisguised fascination.

"Stop this!" I begged, my voice hoarse from screaming. "His mother is dying!"

Ryan and Alaina ignored my pleas as they hauled me through the crowd. The whispers followed us like shadows:

"Is this really necessary?"

"What did she do?"

"Poor Luna..."

But no one intervened. No one dared to challenge their Alpha.

They dragged me down the grand staircase, away from the music and laughter of the gala. The further we moved from the ballroom, the more my hope faded.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded, my voice trembling.

Neither of them answered as they pulled me down a narrow corridor toward the packhouse kitchens. The sounds of the gala grew fainter with each step.

"Ryan, please," I sobbed, my strength fading. "I'm begging you. Your mother's chest cavity is crushed. She needs immediate surgical intervention. Without it, she'll die."

For a moment—just a moment—something flickered in his eyes. Doubt? Fear?

But then Alaina tightened her grip on my arm. "Don't listen to her," she hissed. "She's just trying to manipulate you."

Ryan's expression hardened once more. "Save your breath, Sylvia," he said coldly. "You should have thought about the consequences before you decided to embarrass me tonight."

The kitchen doors loomed ahead, heavy and industrial. Beyond them lay the service corridors—and the commercial walk-in freezer where the pack stored meat for their gatherings.

"You can't do this," I whispered, realizing their intention. "You can't keep me from the hospital."

Alaina's laugh echoed in the empty hallway. "Watch us," she said, her voice dripping with malice.

They dragged me forward, my heels scraping against the polished floor as I fought against their grip. Behind us, the sounds of the gala continued—oblivious to the tragedy unfolding just steps away.