The first whiff of smoke reached me through the ventilation system—a faint, acrid scent that made my nostrils flare. I paused in front of the mirror, my fingers still adjusting the collar of my blouse. Tonight was supposed to be Declan's "Chosen Mate" ceremony—a cruel mockery of what should have been our moment.

"Probably just someone burning leaves nearby," I muttered, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach.

But the smell grew stronger. Too strong.

I followed the scent to the kitchen, where wisps of gray smoke curled from beneath the refrigerator. My heart hammered against my ribs as I yanked the appliance away from the wall, revealing frayed wires sparking against the wooden floor.

"Shit," I whispered, backing away as flames licked upward, hungry and swift.

Panic surged through me as I lunged for the nearest exit—the French doors leading to the garden. My fingers closed around the handle, but it wouldn't budge.

"Locked?" I tugged harder, confusion giving way to dread. "That's impossible."

I tried another window. Then another. Each one refused to yield.

"The security system," I gasped, remembering the high-tech upgrades Declan had installed after a rogue attack last year. The silver-infused shutters were designed to keep enemies out—but now they were trapping me inside.

My phone showed no signal. The landline was dead.

Smoke filled my lungs, and I dropped to my knees, crawling toward the control panel by the front door. My access code—the one I'd used for years—was denied.

"Access revoked," the automated system announced coldly.

Revoked. By him.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. Declan had locked me in. He knew I'd try to stop the ceremony—he'd planned this.

"He wouldn't," I whispered, even as the smoke thickened around me. "He couldn't."

But deep down, I knew better. The man who had once promised to protect me had become someone else entirely.

I pressed my palm against the cool glass of a window, watching flames dance in the kitchen. The heat was getting closer.

"DECLAN!" I screamed through our mate bond, throwing every ounce of desperation into the mental link. "The house is burning! I'm trapped!"

Silence.

I tried again, my thoughts bleeding with panic. "The security shutters are locked! I can't get out!"

Still nothing.

The smoke was thickening, making it hard to breathe. I tore strips from my blouse, soaking them in water from the bathroom sink. The fire had spread to the living room by now, orange tongues licking at the curtains.

"PLEASE!" I begged through our bond. "I'm dying in here!"

---

At the Pack House, music throbbed through the grand hall. Crystal glasses clinked as pack members toasted their Alpha's new beginning. Alina stood beside Declan, radiant in a white dress that hugged her curves, her dark hair cascading down her back.

"A toast," Declan announced, raising his glass. "To new beginnings and stronger bonds."

The crowd cheered as he turned to Alina, his eyes glowing with an intensity that had once been reserved for me.

"Celine?" he murmured, his brow furrowing slightly as he felt my desperate cries through our bond.

Alina's hand tightened on his arm. "Is she bothering you again?"

"It's nothing," he said dismissively. "Just more drama."

I felt his mental walls slam down, cutting off my pleas mid-scream. The sudden silence in my mind was more terrifying than the roar of the flames.

"Stop with the drama, Celine," his voice echoed in my head, cold and distant. "Enjoy the silence for once."

The room spun around me as smoke filled my lungs. I collapsed to my knees, the wet cloth slipping from my fingers.

"Declan," I whispered aloud, though I knew he couldn't hear me. "How could you?"

Through blurred vision, I watched the ceiling begin to collapse. Sparks rained down like deadly fireflies.

---

"Forever starts tonight," Declan declared, his voice carrying across the Pack House grounds.

He tilted Alina's head to expose her neck, his canines elongating as pack members gathered in a circle around them. The marking ceremony was about to begin.

"Wait," someone said from the back. "Shouldn't we check on Celine?"

"She's fine," Alina snapped. "Probably sulking in her room."

Declan's teeth sank into Alina's flesh, marking her as his Luna. The pack erupted in cheers as she threw her head back in ecstasy.

"I, Declan Porter, Alpha of the Silverclaw Pack, claim you, Alina Snyder, as my chosen mate and Luna."

The bond between us screamed in agony—not just from my burns, but from the violation of what should have been sacred. I felt it tear, thread by thread, as darkness closed in around me.

---

Hours later, sirens wailed in the distance as patrol enforcers finally noticed the smoke billowing from the Alpha's private estate. They battered down the silver-infused shutters to find me unconscious on the bathroom floor, my body covered in third-degree burns.

As they carried me out, my phone buzzed with a notification. Through swollen eyes, I glimpsed Alina's smiling face on WolfGram—a selfie with her fresh mark prominently displayed.

"New beginnings," the caption read, completely ignoring the sirens wailing in the distance.

Pain greeted me before consciousness fully returned. A searing, all-consuming agony that seemed to burn from within my very bones. My eyelids felt weighted with lead as I struggled to open them, the harsh fluorescent lights of the pack infirmary stabbing into my retinas.

I tried to scream, but only a raspy whisper escaped my throat. My vocal cords felt raw, as though I'd swallowed glass.

"Water," I croaked, my tongue thick and dry.

A figure appeared in my field of vision—Marcus Vale, our pack healer. His face remained impassive as he looked down at me, no trace of compassion in his eyes.

"Alpha's orders. Limited fluids until you're stable." His voice was cold, clinical. "Your wolf should be healing you by now."

I tried to respond, but the pain intensified, white-hot needles piercing my skin from the inside out. My body was wrapped in bandages from neck to toe, the scent of antiseptic and burned flesh overwhelming my senses.

"My wolf," I managed to whisper. "Can't shift."

Marcus's expression hardened. "Convenient excuse. The Alpha says you've been faking your inability to shift for months."

He checked my vitals with mechanical precision, avoiding my eyes. "You're lucky to be alive, Celine. Though I doubt you deserve it after what you did."

"What I did?" The words scraped against my damaged throat.

"The fire." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "We all know you set it yourself. Desperate attempt to get attention, to ruin the ceremony."

I shook my head weakly, tears stinging my eyes. "No..."

"Save your strength." Marcus straightened, adjusting his white coat. "Your pain medication is being restricted. Alpha's orders. He says your wolf should handle the healing."

He knew I couldn't shift. Everyone knew. The trauma from my miscarriage had left my wolf silent, unreachable. But Declan had chosen to believe I was lying about that too.

---

Days blurred together in a haze of pain and fever. When I could bear it, I reached for my phone on the bedside table, wincing as the movement pulled at my burns.

The pack's social network app loaded slowly on the cracked screen. My heart sank as I scrolled through the posts.

Alina's face smiled back at me from dozens of photos. Her in Declan's arms. Her wearing the Luna's ceremonial necklace. Her fresh marking proudly displayed.

"New beginnings with my Alpha," read one caption beneath a photo of them kissing.

"The ceremony was perfect," declared another, showing off her ring.

But worse than the public posts was the private message that popped up as I scrolled.

"Enjoying the show, Celine?" Alina's name flashed on my screen.

I opened the message with trembling fingers. A video began to play automatically.

Alina's voice purred from the speakers. "Miss me?"

The camera panned to show her in the Alpha suite—our suite—wearing nothing but Declan's shirt. She was sprawled across his bed, running her fingers through her dark hair.

"This is from three weeks ago," she said, smiling directly at the camera. "Right after you lost your pup. While you were still bleeding, actually."

The camera moved, revealing Declan entering the frame. He kissed her neck, right over the spot where he would later mark her.

"He never went back to you after that night," Alina continued. "Every time you think he was with you, he was with me."

I dropped the phone as though it had burned me worse than the fire.

---

A soft knock at the door startled me from my misery. I expected Marcus with more accusations, but instead, a young woman slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Elena?" I recognized her vaguely as one of the lower-ranked wolves who worked in tech support.

"Shh." She glanced nervously over her shoulder. "I don't have much time."

She approached my bed, her eyes darting to the door every few seconds. "I saw what happened," she whispered. "The security logs."

My breath caught. "What logs?"

Elena reached into her pocket and pulled out a small phone—a burner model with no markings. "I work in the security office. I saw the records from the night of the fire."

She pressed it into my hand, closing my fingers around it. "The Alpha remotely locked the shutters after the fire alarm went off. He did it from the Pack House, during the ceremony."

"Why are you helping me?" My voice was barely audible.

Elena's eyes filled with tears. "Because my sister was rejected too. She didn't survive it."

She straightened as footsteps approached in the hallway. "Hide this. They're monitoring everything else."

As she turned to leave, she paused at the door. "The truth is in there. What you do with it is up to you."

The door closed behind her, leaving me alone with the small device that held the key to my revenge—and perhaps my salvation.

The hospital room's sterile white walls seemed to close in around me as I stared at the ceiling, counting the tiles to distract myself from the pain. My burns throbbed despite the minimal medication Marcus allowed. Three days had passed since Elena slipped me the burner phone with its precious cargo of security logs.

I heard footsteps approaching—too heavy for a nurse, too purposeful for a doctor. The door creaked open, and I tensed, expecting Alina's smug face or Marcus's cold stare.

Instead, a janitor stepped in, pushing a cleaning cart. Something about him seemed off—his movements too fluid, his posture too alert. When he looked up, I recognized him from somewhere.

"You're Theo," I whispered, my damaged vocal cords making it sound more like a question than a statement.

He quickly closed the door behind him and removed his cap, revealing auburn hair and intelligent eyes. "Guilty as charged."

"The Rogue streamer," I added, trying to sit up despite the pain.

"Former streamer," he corrected, pulling out a tablet from his cart. "At least for today."

He approached my bed cautiously, glancing at the door. "I hacked the visitor logs. You have exactly seven minutes before someone notices I'm not supposed to be here."

I nodded weakly. "What do you want?"

"I think the question is what do you need?" He placed the tablet on my lap. "Because I found something you should see."

The screen showed thermal footage of the night of the fire. The timestamp matched when I'd been trapped inside.

"I was streaming an urban exploration of your pack's perimeter," Theo explained. "I thought the old estate would make good content."

The footage showed the Alpha estate engulfed in flames, then panned to capture the Pack House in the distance. Theo zoomed in on a balcony where two figures stood watching the blaze.

"Declan and Alina," I breathed, recognizing them instantly.

"But that's not all," Theo said, tapping the screen to activate the audio.

Their voices came through clearly, laughing as they watched my prison burn.

"Is that smoke bothering you, Alpha?" Alina's voice purred.

"Nothing to worry about," Declan replied. "Probably just Celine burning dinner again."

They clinked glasses as sirens wailed in the distance.

"I ignored three fire alarm notifications on my phone," Declan said casually. "She'll learn to stop being so careless."

Theo paused the video. "The official story is that no one knew about the fire until the patrols saw the smoke. But this—" he gestured to the frozen image, "—shows they saw it from the beginning."

"They watched me burn," I whispered, tears stinging my eyes.

Theo nodded grimly. "I've been streaming for years. I know when someone's lying, and that official statement stinks worse than your burned house."

"Why show me this?" I asked.

"Because I hate liars," he said simply. "And because no one deserves what happened to you."

He pulled out a small drive. "I've copied everything. Thermal footage, audio, timestamps—it's all here."

I took it with bandaged fingers. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Theo said. "We need to combine this with whatever you have."

I reached for Elena's burner phone under my pillow and handed it to him. "Security logs. He locked me in."

Theo's eyes widened as he examined the files. "This is enough for attempted murder charges, not just negligence."

"We need to—" I began, but my voice failed me.

Theo handed me his tablet. "Type it."

I slowly typed out my plan: *We need to present this at the next Pack Gathering. The Lycan Council will be there. We need to expose them both.*

"Can you do it?" I asked.

Before he could answer, the door swung open. Alina stood there, her perfect smile faltering slightly at the sight of Theo.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said with false sweetness. "I didn't realize you had company."

Theo quickly resumed his janitor pose, grabbing his cleaning supplies. "Just doing my job, Luna."

Alina's eyes narrowed at the title. She waited until he left before approaching my bed.

"Poor Celine," she cooed, sitting on the edge of my mattress. "How are you feeling today?"

I said nothing, watching her warily.

"I came to check on you," she continued, her voice dripping with false concern. "After all, you're still technically pack, even if you're not really the Luna anymore."

She leaned closer, her perfume suffocating me. "It must be so hard, being rejected and burned and... oh yes, barren."

Her manicured nail traced the edge of my bandage, then suddenly dug into my burn graft.

I bit back a scream as pain shot through me.

"If you don't leave this pack immediately," she whispered, her face inches from mine, "I'll finish what the fire started."

I remained perfectly still as her words poured over me like acid. Under my pillow, Elena's burner phone recorded every syllable.

Alina smiled again, patting my hand condescendingly. "Rest well, Celine. I'll check on you tomorrow."

As she sashayed out, I clutched the phone tighter, a plan forming in my mind. The recording would be my first piece of ammunition in a war she didn't even know had begun.