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.

The heavy steel door of the walk-in freezer loomed before me, its surface gleaming under the harsh kitchen lights. I struggled against Ryan's iron grip, my heels scraping uselessly against the polished floor.

"Ryan, please!" I sobbed, my voice breaking. "This is insane! Your mother is dying!"

His eyes were cold, devoid of any emotion as he and Alaina dragged me toward the freezer. The industrial handle felt like ice against my skin as Ryan wrenched the door open.

"Consider yourself lucky," he growled, his breath hot against my face. "If you weren't my Luna, you'd be facing worse than this."

Alaina's laugh echoed in the empty kitchen. "Much worse," she agreed, her fingers digging into my arm.

I thrashed wildly, fighting against their grip. "You can't do this! I'm your mate!"

"You're a liar and an embarrassment," Ryan spat, his Alpha aura expanding around us like a suffocating cloud.

Together, they shoved me forward. I stumbled, my sequined gown catching on the freezer's threshold. For one desperate moment, I clung to the doorframe, my nails scraping against the metal.

"Let me go!" I screamed, my voice raw from pleading.

Ryan's hand slammed into my back, pushing me into the darkness. I fell forward, my knees hitting the frozen floor with a painful crack.

"Maybe an hour or two in here will teach you some respect," Alaina said, her voice dripping with false concern.

The heavy door swung shut behind me. I heard the decisive click of the external lock being thrown.

"Ryan!" I pounded on the door, my fists already growing numb from the cold. "Don't do this!"

Their footsteps receded down the corridor, leaving me alone in the pitch-black freezer.

"Ryan!" I screamed again, my voice echoing off the metal walls. "Your mother needs me!"

Silence was my only answer.

I spun around, my eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. The freezer was massive—a commercial unit designed to store meat for the pack's gatherings. Rows of hanging carcasses surrounded me, their frozen flesh gleaming faintly in the darkness.

"Margaret," I whispered, my teeth beginning to chatter. "Hold on. Please hold on."

The cold hit me like a physical blow. It wasn't the natural chill of winter or even the controlled temperature of an operating room. This was something else entirely—a violent, aggressive cold that seemed to seep into my bones.

"Lily," I called internally, reaching for my wolf. "Lily, we need to shift."

Inside me, Lily stirred weakly. "Sylvia," she whimpered, her voice fainter than I'd ever heard it. "I can't... it's too cold..."

I stumbled forward, my arms wrapped around myself. "We have to try. We'll freeze otherwise."

Werewolves could normally shift to regulate their body temperature, our wolf forms better equipped to handle extreme conditions. But the cold in this freezer seemed to target Lily specifically, suppressing her presence in my mind.

"Sylvia," Lily's voice grew fainter, "I can't reach you anymore..."

Panic surged through me as I realized what was happening. The extreme cold was suppressing my wolf, trapping me in my human form with its limited ability to withstand such temperatures.

I stumbled forward, my breath coming in short, painful gasps. The cold bit through my thin gown, gnawing at my flesh. My fingers were already growing numb, my toes losing sensation.

"Got to... find a way out," I muttered, my words slurring slightly.

My eyes caught a faint glow from the far wall—the internal intercom system. A lifeline.

I staggered toward it, my legs trembling beneath me. The cold seemed to press against me from all sides, a physical weight that made each step a battle.

"Almost... there..." I gasped, reaching out with trembling fingers.

The intercom panel was mounted at chest height, its buttons glowing faintly in the darkness. I pressed the button with numb fingers, praying it would work.

"Hello?" I called, my voice shaking. "Can anyone hear me?"

Static was my only answer.

I pressed the button again, harder this time. "Ryan!" I shouted, my voice cracking. "If you can hear me, check your mind-link! Call the hospital!"

I leaned my forehead against the cold metal wall, my breath forming clouds of vapor in the frigid air.

"Please," I whispered, no longer sure if anyone could hear me. "Please, just check. Your mother's life depends on it."

The cold seemed to intensify around me, creeping deeper into my bones with each passing second. My right hand—my surgical hand—felt like a block of ice, the fingers barely responsive to my commands.

"Margaret," I murmured, my vision beginning to blur at the edges. "I'm so sorry. I tried..."

The intercom remained silent, offering no hope of rescue. In the distance, I could hear the faint sound of music from the gala, muffled but unmistakable.

They were celebrating while I froze. While Margaret died.

I slumped against the wall, my strength fading as the cold continued its relentless assault. My wolf was silent now, suppressed by the extreme temperature.

How long had I been in here? Minutes? Hours?

The cold was winning. And with each passing second, Margaret's chances of survival diminished.

"Ryan," I whispered into the intercom one last time, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. "Please..."

The darkness closed in around me as consciousness began to slip away.