I gasped for air, my lungs burning like I'd been drowning. My eyes snapped open to a ceiling I knew too well—cream-colored paint with that small crack near the corner that looked like a lightning bolt. The master bedroom of the Silverclaw Pack house.

No.

This couldn't be real. I should be dead. I should be lying in the rogue lands, my body wasted to nothing, my mind shattered by months of wolfsbane poisoning. The last thing I remembered was the dirt under my fingernails as I clawed at the frozen ground, searching for roots to eat. The taste of my own blood. The silence where my wolf should have been.

But the sheets beneath me were soft. Egyptian cotton. Isaac always insisted on the best.

My hands flew to my stomach. No hollow ache. No protruding ribs. I pressed harder, feeling the gentle curve of flesh that shouldn't exist on a starving rogue.

*Sasha?*

I reached inward, toward that empty space where my wolf had died slowly, poisoned pill by poisoned pill. For a moment, nothing. Then—

A whimper. Weak, confused, but unmistakably there.

*Sasha.*

My wolf stirred in the depths of my consciousness, her presence like a candle flame in a dark room. Fragile. Barely alive. But *there*.

Tears burned my eyes. The Moon Goddess had answered my dying prayer. She'd sent me back.

I sat up slowly, taking in the room. Morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains. The digital clock on the nightstand read 7:47 AM. I knew this day. God help me, I knew this exact morning.

This was the day Isaac brought *her* into our home.

The bedroom door swung open without a knock. Isaac filled the doorway, all six-foot-three of him, his dark hair still damp from his morning shower. He wore that gray suit I used to think made him look distinguished. Now I just saw a man playing dress-up as something he wasn't.

His eyes—cold blue, like a winter lake—fixed on me. "Vera."

I'd forgotten how he used to say my name. Like he owned it. Like he owned me.

"You're awake. Good." He stepped inside, and I felt it immediately—the weight of his Alpha aura pressing down on the room. In my previous life, weakened by wolfsbane, I'd crumbled under it. Now, with Sasha stirring inside me, I felt the pressure but didn't break.

I kept my face carefully neutral. Submissive. The mask I'd worn for years.

"I need you downstairs in twenty minutes," Isaac said. His voice dropped into that tone—the Alpha Command that vibrated in your bones and made your wolf whimper. "Allie Jordan will be arriving this morning. She's agreed to serve as our Pack Consultant. You will welcome her appropriately and show her to the third-floor guest suite."

Allie Jordan. The woman who would destroy everything.

In my first life, I'd fought this moment. I'd argued, pleaded, reminded Isaac of our mate bond. He'd used his Alpha Command to force me into silence, then locked me in this room for two days without food. When I emerged, Allie was already settled in, and my resistance was broken.

Not this time.

I lowered my head, exposing my neck in the ultimate gesture of submission. Every instinct screamed against it, but I'd learned patience in the rogue lands. I'd learned to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

"Yes, Alpha," I said softly. "I'll welcome her."

Isaac went still. I could feel his surprise, sharp as broken glass. He'd expected a fight. He'd been ready for it, probably even looking forward to crushing my spirit again.

Instead, I gave him nothing.

"Good," he said finally, but there was suspicion in his voice now. "I'm glad you're being reasonable about this, Vera. Allie's expertise will be valuable to the pack."

*Liar.* Allie's only expertise was in seduction and manipulation. But I just nodded, keeping my eyes down.

Isaac left, closing the door behind him. The moment he was gone, I let out a shaking breath.

*We can do this,* Sasha whispered in my mind, her voice threadbare but determined. *We can survive him.*

*We're going to do more than survive,* I promised her. *We're going to destroy him.*

I dressed quickly in a simple blue dress—modest, appropriate for a Luna greeting a guest. My hands shook as I fastened the buttons. Not from fear. From rage.

Downstairs, the breakfast table was already set. Isaac sat at the head, scrolling through his phone. He didn't look up when I entered.

I took my usual seat. A moment later, one of the Omega kitchen staff—Nia, sweet Nia who would be framed for theft in three weeks—brought out my plate. Scrambled eggs. Toast. Orange juice.

And a small dish with three white pills.

My "vitamins."

I stared at them, remembering the metallic taste. The way they made my head fuzzy. How Sasha's voice had grown fainter with each dose until I couldn't hear her at all.

Wolfsbane. Carefully measured to suppress my Alpha bloodline without killing me outright.

Isaac glanced up. "Take your vitamins, Vera."

I picked up the pills with steady fingers. Lifted my water glass. In my previous life, I'd swallowed them obediently, trusting my mate to care for my health.

Now I knew better.

I brought the pills to my lips, took a sip of water, and tilted my head back. My tongue pressed the pills against the roof of my mouth while I swallowed the water. Then, as I lowered the glass and reached for my napkin to dab my lips, I let the pills drop into the cloth.

A trick I'd learned from a rogue who'd survived by pretending to take sedatives from her captors.

"Good girl," Isaac said absently, already back to his phone.

I folded the napkin carefully in my lap, feeling the pills inside. The first small victory.

Sasha stirred again, stronger this time. Without the wolfsbane, she would heal. We would heal.

And then we would make them all pay.

The pack archives smelled like old paper and forgotten promises.

I stood in the doorway of Grandma Stevens' private study, watching her gnarled fingers trace the edge of a leather-bound ledger. Morning light slanted through the window, catching the silver in her hair. She looked up at me with those sharp gray eyes that missed nothing.

"You're certain about these numbers, child?"

I stepped closer, keeping my voice soft. Concerned. The perfect worried Luna. "I found the discrepancies three months ago, Grandma. I didn't want to believe it, but..." I let my words trail off, biting my lip. "Isaac has been so stressed. I thought perhaps if I understood the finances better, I could help ease his burden."

A lie wrapped in truth. In my previous life, I'd discovered Isaac's embezzlement too late, after Allie had already drained half the pack's resources. This time, I had the advantage of memory.

Grandma Stevens closed the ledger with a decisive snap. "My grandson has forgotten the old ways." Her voice carried the weight of disappointment. "A true Alpha shares his burdens with his Luna. He does not hide his failures behind locked doors and pretty lies."

She stood, moving to an ancient oak cabinet. A key appeared from somewhere in her sleeve—she unlocked the cabinet and withdrew a small iron ring heavy with keys.

"The archives are yours, Vera. All of them." She pressed the ring into my palm. "Including the financial records Isaac believes are sealed."

I closed my fingers around the cold metal, feeling the first piece of my revenge click into place. "Thank you, Grandma."

"Don't thank me yet." Her gaze pierced through me. "I loved that boy since he was born. But I love this pack more. If he's betrayed his duties..." She didn't finish. She didn't have to.

I spent the next two hours in the dusty basement archives, pulling records that hadn't been touched in decades. Pack law. Ancient remedies. Punishment protocols for Alphas who violated sacred bonds.

And then I found it.

Tucked inside a crumbling journal written in Old Script: a recipe for Silver-Dust. The notation was clinical, detailing how the compound slowly calcified the neural pathways between human and wolf. Undetectable. Irreversible if administered long enough.

The same way wolfsbane had destroyed my connection to Sasha.

*He deserves this,* my wolf whispered. Her voice was stronger now, fed by my rage and growing power.

*He deserves worse,* I agreed.

I photographed the pages with my phone, then carefully returned everything to its place. No one could know I'd been here. Not yet.

That night, I waited until Isaac left for his evening patrol. The pack house settled into quiet—Allie was in her third-floor suite, probably video-calling her Beta lover. The staff had retired. I was alone.

I moved through the shadows like the rogue I'd once been, silent and invisible. Isaac's office door was locked, but I'd stolen his spare key weeks ago in my first life. Some skills transferred between timelines.

The room smelled like him. Expensive cologne and arrogance.

I found his custom protein powder in the small refrigerator behind his desk—the Alpha-enhancement blend he mixed into his post-workout shakes. He was vain about his physique, about maintaining his dominance.

Perfect.

I'd prepared the Silver-Dust in my bathroom, grinding the components with mortar and pestle like the recipe specified. The powder was fine as talc, nearly invisible when mixed.

My hands didn't shake as I unscrewed the protein container. Three measured teaspoons, stirred carefully into the chocolate-flavored powder. The recipe promised it would take weeks to build up, mimicking the slow deterioration of an overworked Alpha.

No one would suspect poison. They'd think he was burning out.

I was screwing the lid back on when I heard footsteps in the hallway.

I froze. The footsteps passed. Probably a Delta on night rounds.

I exhaled slowly, returning the container to its exact position. Wiped down every surface I'd touched. Slipped back out into the darkness.

*First dose administered,* I thought, feeling Sasha's savage satisfaction mirror my own.

The next morning, I was coming back from the pack gardens when Allie appeared in the second-floor hallway. She wore a silk robe that barely covered her thighs, her blonde hair artfully tousled. Playing the seductress even when Isaac wasn't around.

"Vera." Her voice dripped false sweetness. "We need to talk about the pack budget. Isaac says you've been asking questions."

She moved closer, and I saw it—the silver curling iron in her hand, still plugged into the hallway outlet. Still hot.

"I'm just trying to help," I said softly, backing against the wall. Playing weak.

"Are you?" Allie's smile turned vicious. "Because it seems like you're trying to undermine my position as Pack Consultant."

She stumbled forward—a calculated movement—and pressed the burning iron against my forearm.

The pain was instant, searing. Silver against werewolf skin. In my previous life, weakened by wolfsbane, this would have taken days to heal. Would have left a scar.

But I wasn't weak anymore.

I felt my Alpha blood surge, Sasha rising with feral fury. The burn healed in seconds, flesh knitting closed before Allie's shocked eyes.

I grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard enough to make her drop the iron. Then I let my aura unfurl—just a fraction of it, just enough to make her knees buckle.

"What..." Allie gasped, her face going white.

I leaned close, my voice a whisper. "You must be more careful, Allie. These old hallways are so dangerous. You could trip and hurt yourself."

I released her, watching her stumble back against the wall. Her eyes were wide, terrified. She'd felt my power. She knew.

"There's no burn," I said pleasantly, showing her my unmarked arm. "You must be seeing things. Perhaps you should rest more. Stress can cause hallucinations."

I walked away, leaving her trembling in the hallway.

*Let her wonder,* Sasha purred. *Let her fear.*

Behind me, I heard Allie's ragged breathing. The sound of her confusion. Her terror.

Good.

The predator had just shown her teeth.

I found Ivey in the kitchens just after dawn, her hands deep in dishwater. The morning staff hadn't arrived yet. Perfect.

"Luna." She straightened immediately, wiping her hands on her apron. Her dark eyes flickered with concern. "Is something wrong?"

I glanced toward the hallway, then back at her. "Allie visited your quarters last night."

Ivey went still. "How did you—"

"Check under your mattress. Now."

She didn't question me. That was the thing about Ivey—she'd survived this pack by knowing when to trust her instincts. We moved quickly through the servants' wing, our footsteps silent on the worn carpet.

The room she shared with Nia was small but tidy. Two narrow beds, a shared dresser, a window that overlooked the training grounds. Ivey dropped to her knees beside her bed and reached underneath.

Her hand emerged holding a diamond bracelet. Then a ruby necklace. Then a pair of emerald earrings I recognized from the pack vault.

"Moon Goddess," Ivey breathed. Her face had gone pale. "She's framing us."

"She's terrified," I said quietly. "I showed her something yesterday. Something she wasn't supposed to see." I knelt beside her, gathering the jewelry. "Now she's trying to eliminate anyone loyal to me."

Ivey's jaw tightened. "What do we do?"

I smiled. In my previous life, I'd discovered the planted evidence too late. The guards had already found it. Nia and Ivey had been dragged before the pack council, and I'd been powerless to stop their exile.

Not this time.

"We give it back to her," I said.

Twenty minutes later, we stood in the underground garage. Allie's silver Mercedes gleamed under the fluorescent lights, parked in the spot marked "Pack Consultant." The vanity of it made my teeth ache.

Ivey pulled a thin piece of metal from her pocket—a lock pick she'd carried since her orphan days. Her fingers worked the car door with practiced ease. The lock clicked open.

"Trunk," I whispered.

She popped it from inside. I lifted the carpeted floor panel, revealing the spare tire well. Deep enough. Hidden enough.

I placed each piece of jewelry carefully inside, then covered them again. Closed the trunk. Locked the door.

*Your move, Allie.*

Isaac's voice boomed through the pack house at noon, amplified by his Alpha authority. "All pack members to the main hall. Immediately."

I arrived with the other Lunas and high-ranking females, my face carefully composed. Concerned but calm. Isaac stood on the raised platform, his jaw clenched. Allie hovered beside him, her expression a perfect mask of distress.

"Valuable items have been stolen from the pack vault," Isaac announced. His Alpha aura pressed down on the assembled wolves, making the lower-ranked members whimper. "Beta Cross will conduct a search of all quarters. Anyone found with stolen property will face exile."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. I felt Nia and Ivey's fear spike from where they stood among the other Omegas. I caught Ivey's eye and gave the smallest shake of my head.

*Trust me.*

Beta David Cross was thorough. I had to give him that. He started with the Omega quarters, his team of Deltas moving through each room with grim efficiency. When they found nothing in Nia and Ivey's room, I saw Allie's face tighten.

She'd expected them to find the jewelry. She'd been so certain.

David moved through the pack house systematically. Guest rooms. Storage areas. Even the Alpha's office, though Isaac's scowl could have melted steel.

Nothing.

"The garage," David said finally. "We should check the vehicles."

Allie's scent spiked—sharp with sudden panic. I caught it immediately. So did several other wolves with strong noses.

David's team moved through the garage. When they reached Allie's Mercedes, David paused. His nostrils flared.

"The scent trail leads here," he said, his voice carefully neutral.

Allie laughed. High and brittle. "That's ridiculous. Why would I steal from the pack vault? I'm the Pack Consultant."

"Open the trunk, please," David said.

Allie's hands shook as she pressed the button on her key fob. The trunk popped open. David lifted the floor panel.

The jewelry glittered in the fluorescent light.

The crowd erupted. Gasps. Whispers. Accusations flying like arrows.

"I didn't—" Allie's voice cracked. "Someone planted this! I would never—"

"The scent trail doesn't lie," David said quietly. He looked at Isaac. "Alpha, the evidence is clear."

Isaac's face had gone rigid. I could see the war happening behind his eyes. Believe his mistress, or believe his Beta.

I stepped forward before he could speak.

"Perhaps," I said softly, my voice carrying just enough to reach the crowd, "Allie has been under too much stress. Adjusting to a new pack, taking on such important responsibilities..." I let sympathy color my tone. "Sometimes the pressure can make us confused. Overwhelmed."

I met Allie's eyes. Saw the fury there. The humiliation.

"I'm sure she didn't mean any harm," I continued. "We should be understanding. Forgiving."

The crowd shifted. I felt it—the subtle change in their perception. The Luna, gracious and kind, making excuses for the mistress who'd tried to frame innocent Omegas.

Allie's face flushed red. "I am not confused—"

"Of course not," I said gently. "But perhaps you should rest. Take some time to settle in properly."

Isaac's jaw worked. He couldn't defend Allie without looking weak. Couldn't punish her without admitting he'd brought a thief into the pack.

"Return the items to the vault," he said finally, his voice tight. "We'll discuss this later."

As the crowd dispersed, I caught Allie's gaze one more time. Her eyes promised murder.

I smiled.

*Let her try.*