The scent of blood hit me before I reached the infirmary—metallic and sharp, mingled with the acrid smell of wolfsbane. My heart hammered against my ribs as I sprinted through the Shadowmoon Pack grounds, my healer's bag clutched tightly to my chest.

"Mom!" I called out, bursting through the wooden doors of our modest healing center.

The sight that greeted me froze my blood. My mother, Elara, lay on the examination table, her normally vibrant face ashen gray. Four deep gashes ran across her torso, the edges of the wounds tinged with an unnatural purple—the telltale sign of wolfsbane poisoning.

"Aria," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Rogues... ambush... near the eastern border."

I pressed my trembling hands to her wounds, my training taking over despite my panic. "Save your strength. I'll get the antidote."

Wolfsbane poisoning was fatal without immediate treatment. We kept a rare antidote in the pack's medicine vault—an antidote I had helped create during my years of training.

I rushed to the storage room, only to find two of Gabriel's guards blocking the entrance, their expressions impassive.

"I need access to the vault," I demanded, trying to push past them. "My mother's been poisoned with wolfsbane."

"Alpha's orders," the taller guard stated flatly. "No access without direct permission."

"This is an emergency!" My voice cracked with desperation. "She'll die without the antidote!"

"Take it up with the Alpha," the second guard replied, crossing his arms. "He's at the annual Summit at Moonstone Manor."

I felt my wolf, Luna, stir within me—a rare occurrence after years of her dormancy. A low growl built in my chest, but I suppressed it. There was no time for confrontation.

"Keep pressure on her wounds," I instructed the pack healer's assistant as I grabbed my coat. "I'll be back with the antidote."

The drive to Moonstone Manor took twenty agonizing minutes. Every second that passed was poison spreading through my mother's veins. I parked haphazardly and ran up the marble steps, ignoring the disapproving glances from the formally dressed werewolves attending the Summit.

I followed Gabriel's scent, my mate bond guiding me through the maze of hallways until I reached a grand meeting room. Through the partially open door, I could see Gabriel standing at a podium, his powerful frame commanding the attention of every Alpha in attendance.

"...and so, on behalf of the Shadowmoon Pack," Gabriel's deep voice resonated throughout the chamber, "I pledge fifty thousand in pack funds to sponsor Isabella Cross's Luna ascension ceremony next month."

Applause followed his announcement. My breath caught in my throat as I spotted Isabella seated in the front row, her ruby lips curved in a triumphant smile. Fifty thousand—enough to rebuild our entire medical facility twice over.

I slipped into the room, pressing myself against the wall. Gabriel's eyes flicked to me for a brief second before returning to the crowd. He had sensed me through our bond; I knew he had.

As the meeting adjourned, I approached him, my heart pounding. "Gabriel, I need to speak with you urgently."

"Aria," he acknowledged coldly, his hand coming to rest on Isabella's lower back. "This is hardly the time or place."

"My mother is dying," I said, my voice breaking. "Rogue attack. Wolfsbane poisoning. I need access to the antidote in the vault."

Isabella's eyes gleamed with something that looked disturbingly like satisfaction.

"The vault access is restricted during the Summit," Gabriel replied. "Security protocol."

I reached for our mate bond, something I rarely did anymore after years of his rejection. *Please, Gabriel. She's all I have left. She'll die without it.*

His jaw tightened, and for a moment—just a moment—I thought I saw conflict in his eyes. Then Isabella placed her hand on his arm, her long nails digging slightly into his suit jacket.

"We have the ceremony planning meeting in five minutes, darling," she reminded him sweetly. "The decorators are waiting."

Gabriel straightened his tie. "The guards will remain at their posts, Aria. We can discuss this when I return to the pack house tomorrow."

Tomorrow would be too late. We both knew it.

"She's my mother," I whispered, tears filling my eyes.

"And Isabella is my future Luna," he replied coldly. "Her ceremony takes precedence."

I stood frozen as they walked away, Isabella's triumphant smirk burning into my memory. My wolf howled in anguish within me, a sound I felt rather than heard.

Twelve hours later, I held my mother's cold hand as her breathing stopped. The wolfsbane had reached her heart.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, pressing my forehead to hers. "I'm so sorry."

A commotion outside drew me from my grief. Pack members were gathering in the central clearing. Curious and numb, I followed the crowd.

In the center of the circle stood Gabriel and Isabella. My mate—my Alpha—had his hands on Isabella's shoulders, his expression intense with desire. As the pack watched, he lowered his mouth to the curve where her neck met her shoulder and bit down, marking her as his chosen Luna.

Isabella's eyes found mine across the clearing, victory shining in them as my world collapsed around me.

I knelt beside my mother's body, her skin already growing cold beneath my fingertips. The wolfsbane had turned her veins a sickly purple, visible beneath her ashen skin. My tears fell onto her face as I smoothed her hair back, the way she used to do for me when I was a child.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I should have tried harder. I should have made him listen."

Something stirred within me—a presence I'd barely felt for years. My wolf, Luna, who had grown so quiet during my decade with Gabriel that I sometimes wondered if she was still there.

Now she growled, the sound reverberating through my chest. Not a whimper of submission or pain, but a deep, furious growl that made my hands shake.

*He did this. He let her die.*

The voice in my head was so clear it startled me. Luna had never spoken to me so distinctly before.

*Ten years we've endured. Ten years of his coldness. Ten years of watching him parade that she-wolf around our territory. But this—*

"This is unforgivable," I finished aloud, my fingers curling into fists.

The door to the infirmary opened, and one of the pack elders entered, his expression solemn.

"It's time, Aria," he said gently. "The funeral pyre is prepared."

I nodded, rising on unsteady legs. Four warriors entered behind him to carry my mother's body. I wanted to snarl at them not to touch her, but I restrained myself. This was tradition. The last honor for a fallen pack member.

Twilight had fallen by the time we gathered at the ceremonial clearing. The pack formed a circle around the wooden pyre where they had placed my mother's body, wrapped in white linen sprinkled with wolfsbane flowers—a bitter irony that wasn't lost on me.

Gabriel stood opposite me across the pyre, his face impassive. He hadn't even changed out of the suit he'd worn to the Summit. Beside him stood Isabella, and the sight of her made Luna surge forward so violently I nearly stumbled.

She wore Gabriel's Alpha medallion around her neck—a silver disk engraved with the Shadowmoon Pack symbol. It was meant to be worn by the Alpha or his Luna. Never by an unmarked female, especially not at a funeral.

Isabella broke from Gabriel's side and approached me, her eyes gleaming with false sympathy.

"My deepest condolences, Aria," she said, loud enough for nearby pack members to hear. "If only someone stronger had been there to protect her. Perhaps if you'd been a proper Luna instead of just a... healer."

The medallion glinted in the firelight as she leaned closer. "Some wolves simply aren't strong enough to survive in our world. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose."

Luna's growl built in my chest, so powerful I had to clench my teeth to keep it contained. My fingernails lengthened slightly, the beginning of a shift I hadn't experienced in years.

*Let me out,* Luna demanded. *Let me tear her throat out.*

"You'll get your turn soon enough," Isabella whispered, misinterpreting my silence for fear. She turned and sauntered back to Gabriel's side, her hand possessively sliding around his waist.

The pack elder handed me the torch. With shaking hands, I approached the pyre.

"May the Moon Goddess welcome you home, Mother," I said, my voice stronger than I expected. "May she grant you the peace you deserved in life."

I touched the torch to the kindling, and flames leapt up, hungrily consuming the dry wood. As the fire grew, I felt a presence beside me—not Gabriel, who remained unmoved across the clearing, but someone else. A familiar scent of pine and rain washed over me.

A warm hand settled on my shoulder, strong and steady. I didn't need to look to know who it was.

"Alpha Sterling," I whispered.

"Lucas," he corrected softly. "I felt your pain through the pack mind-link. Luna's pain."

I glanced up at him then, surprised. No one had sensed my wolf in years, not even Gabriel, who should have felt her through our mate bond.

Lucas's eyes reflected the funeral flames, but there was something else there—a recognition, an understanding that made my wolf suddenly still her furious pacing.

"When you're ready," he said quietly, "there's a place for you in Ironwolf territory."

Before I could respond, his hand squeezed my shoulder once, and then he was gone, moving back to stand with his Beta at the edge of the clearing.

Across the flames, Gabriel's eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on the spot where Lucas's hand had touched me. For the first time in years, I felt something flicker through our mate bond—not love or concern, but possessiveness. Cold, selfish possession.

Luna growled again, louder this time. And this time, I didn't try to silence her.

I returned to the Shadowmoon keep with my mother's ashes clutched to my chest, a small silver urn that felt impossibly heavy. The funeral pyre had burned until dawn, and I'd stayed until the last ember died, watching my final family tie turn to ash. Now, the morning light seemed too harsh, too ordinary for a world without her.

My quarters were located in the east wing of the pack house, close to the infirmary where I'd spent most of my waking hours. As I approached, I noticed the door was slightly ajar. Strange—I always locked it.

Inside, my healing supplies were gone. The shelves that had once held carefully labeled jars of herbs and tinctures stood empty. My books on werewolf anatomy and traditional healing practices had vanished from the desk.

A sealed envelope lay in their place, bearing the Shadowmoon Pack crest. My fingers trembled as I broke the wax seal.

*By decree of Alpha Gabriel Blackwood, the position of Pack Healer is hereby transferred to Seraphina Cross, effective immediately. All healing supplies, texts, and equipment are to be surrendered for her use. Aria Stone will report to Seraphina Cross for reassignment of duties.*

The paper crumpled in my fist. Seraphina Cross—Isabella's sister. Of course.

Luna growled, the sound vibrating through my chest. *They take everything. First your mate. Then your mother. Now your purpose.*

"They won't take my dignity," I whispered.

A bell rang through the pack house, signaling a mandatory assembly. I placed my mother's urn on my bedside table and straightened my shoulders. Whatever came next, I would face it with the little strength I had left.

The great hall was already filled when I arrived. I slipped in through the side entrance, keeping to the shadows at the back. Pack members stood in their designated positions—warriors at the front, followed by ranked members, with omegas at the rear. As Gabriel's fated mate, I should have stood beside him at the front, but that place had never been mine in practice.

Gabriel entered from the main doors, his powerful frame commanding immediate silence. Isabella followed two steps behind, her chin lifted in triumph. Behind her came a woman who could only be her sister—Seraphina had the same sharp features and calculating eyes, though her hair was darker.

"Members of the Shadowmoon Pack," Gabriel's voice boomed across the hall. "Today marks a new chapter in our history. I present to you Isabella Cross, my chosen Luna."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. A chosen Luna over a fated mate was rare—a direct challenge to the Moon Goddess's will. Some elders exchanged concerned glances, but no one dared speak against their Alpha.

"Furthermore," Gabriel continued, "Seraphina Cross will now serve as our Pack Healer, bringing her considerable talents to strengthen our pack."

Seraphina stepped forward with a practiced smile. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. Considerable talents? She'd barely completed basic healing training, according to the whispers I'd heard.

"And finally," Gabriel's eyes found mine in the shadows, "Aria Stone will serve under Luna Isabella and Healer Seraphina, assisting with their duties as required."

The hall fell silent. Even the most loyal pack members seemed shocked by this proclamation. To demote a fated mate—especially one who had just lost her only family—was beyond cruel.

"Aria," Gabriel's voice hardened into the Alpha tone that compelled obedience, "come forward and pledge your loyalty to your Luna."

Every eye in the hall turned to me. I remained frozen, my feet suddenly heavy as stone.

"Aria Stone," Gabriel snarled, his Alpha command washing over the chamber like a physical force, "you will come forward NOW and kneel before your Luna!"

The command hit me like a blow to the chest. My body convulsed with pain as it fought between obedience to the Alpha command and something else—something rising from deep within me.

*NO!* Luna roared in my mind, her voice drowning out even Gabriel's command. *WE DO NOT KNEEL!*

My vision blurred as power surged through me, unfamiliar and wild. I felt my knees buckle, but not in submission—in resistance.

For the first time in the history of the Shadowmoon Pack, someone was defying an Alpha command.