The scent of roasting meat filled the kitchen as I scrubbed the floors, my knees aching against the cold stone. Today was supposed to be my day—the day I would finally be acknowledged as the Alpha's mate. Instead, I was here, preparing the feast that would celebrate my own heartbreak.

"Layla, the silver platters need polishing," Beta Thomas barked from the doorway. "And be quick about it. The ceremony starts in three hours."

I nodded silently, my raw hands trembling slightly as I reached for the heavy silver tray. Three hours. Three hours until Harrison would stand before the pack and either claim me or destroy me.

A sudden wave of heat crashed through my body, so intense I nearly dropped the platter. I gasped, clutching my stomach as the burning sensation spread through my limbs. This was the third time today—the mate bond intensifying, preparing for completion.

"It hurts," I whispered to myself, pressing my forehead against the cool metal of the refrigerator.

"What's wrong with you now?" Beta Thomas snapped, but his voice faded as heavy footsteps approached.

The air in the kitchen changed instantly. Every wolf present straightened, heads bowing slightly. I didn't need to look up to know who had entered.

"Alpha," Beta Thomas greeted, his voice respectful.

Harrison didn't respond immediately. His eyes found mine across the room, and something flickered in their depths—desire, disgust, I couldn't tell.

"The preparations are proceeding as planned," Beta Thomas continued. "The Great Hall is being decorated, and—"

"I can see that," Harrison cut him off, his gaze never leaving me. "Leave us."

The command in his voice sent everyone scurrying from the kitchen. Alone with him, I tried to make myself smaller, pressing back against the counter.

"Look at me," he ordered.

Slowly, I raised my eyes to meet his. He was beautiful in a dangerous way—all sharp angles and cold perfection. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and his jaw tightened as he studied me.

"You smell stronger today," he said, circling me like prey. "The bond is growing."

He moved closer, backing me against the counter. One hand braced beside my head, the other gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"Wildflowers and rain," he murmured, inhaling deeply. "That's what you smell like."

His eyes flashed black—his wolf rising to the surface. For one breathless moment, I thought he might kiss me, might acknowledge what we both felt.

Instead, he stepped back abruptly.

"Stay out of sight during the ceremony," he said coldly. "You smell of poverty."

The words cut deeper than any knife. I lowered my eyes, swallowing the sting of tears.

"Yes, Alpha," I whispered.

---

The Great Hall glowed with candlelight as I moved silently between guests, refilling wine glasses. The ceremony had begun, and I was invisible—just as Harrison had ordered.

From my position near the back, I could see him standing tall on the dais, his shoulders broad beneath the ceremonial black jacket. He looked every inch the Alpha—powerful, commanding, untouchable.

"Our pack has thrived under my leadership," he was saying, addressing the gathered wolves. "Tonight marks a new chapter for Silverclaw."

The crowd murmured approvingly. I caught sight of Elder Cornelius nodding gravely at Harrison's side, his ancient eyes calculating.

"And now," Harrison continued, "I present to you—"

A strange sensation suddenly flooded through me—a golden thread pulling tight in my chest. The mate bond snapped into place with undeniable force. Across the room, Harrison's words died on his lips as he felt it too.

His eyes found mine instantly, as if drawn by an invisible hand. The room fell silent as every wolf present caught the shift in our pheromones.

"Layla," he breathed, my name a question on his lips.

Time seemed to slow as he stepped toward me, his hand reaching out. The pack watched in stunned silence—many had suspected I was his mate, but to see the bond manifest so publicly was shocking.

For one heartbeat, I believed he might choose me.

Then chaos erupted.

A piercing scream tore through the hall as Jocelyn threw herself from the side of the dais, landing with a theatrical crash on the stone floor.

"My ankle!" she wailed, tears streaming down her perfect face. "It's broken!"

Harrison froze, caught between his mate and his Beta. I watched the struggle play across his features—the wolf's instinct warring with his calculated ambition.

"I cannot have a mate who distracts me from my pack's safety," he said finally, his voice cold as he turned away from me.

He scooped Jocelyn into his arms, her delicate form fitting perfectly against his chest. She nestled against him, her eyes meeting mine over his shoulder—triumphant.

"Layla," Elder Cornelius called, his voice dripping with disdain. "Clean up this mess. We can't have the Alpha's... guest... bleeding on the ceremonial floor."

As Harrison carried Jocelyn toward the infirmary, I stood alone in the center of the hall, surrounded by whispers and mocking laughter.

"Pathetic little Omega," someone said.

"Never thought she'd actually be the mate."

"Thank the Moon Goddess our Alpha has better sense than to mark her."

I stood motionless as they circled me like wolves around wounded prey, the golden thread of the mate bond stretching painfully in my chest—unacknowledged, unwanted, but unbroken.

A week passed like a blur of shame and whispers. I kept to my dilapidated quarters at the edge of pack territory, venturing out only when necessary. Each time I stepped outside, I felt the weight of stares—pitying, mocking, curious. The rejected mate. The Omega who wasn't good enough.

The knock came just after sunset.

"Layla." Harrison's voice cut through the thin wooden door of my cabin. "Open it."

I hesitated, my fingers trembling as I reached for the latch. When I pulled it open, he stood there imposing and beautiful, his dark eyes unreadable.

"May I come in?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question.

I stepped aside silently, watching as he surveyed my modest space—the threadbare blanket on the narrow bed, the single chair by the window, the small wooden table where I ate my meals alone.

"This is... quaint," he said finally, unable to mask his distaste.

"What do you want, Harrison?" My voice sounded hollow even to my own ears.

He paced the small room, his broad shoulders making it seem even smaller. "I've been thinking about our situation."

"Our situation?" I repeated, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "You mean how you humiliated me in front of the entire pack?"

"I made a choice for the good of Silverclaw," he said coldly. "A pack needs stability."

"And I'm not stable enough?" I challenged, surprising myself with my boldness.

His eyes flashed black momentarily. "You're an Omega, Layla. The daughters of Alphas and Betas have been training since birth to be Lunas. What have you been doing?"

The truth of his words stung worse than any physical blow. I lowered my gaze to the worn floorboards.

"I have a proposition for you," he continued, his tone softening slightly. "One that would benefit us both."

I looked up cautiously.

"My wolf needs you," he said bluntly. "The bond is... uncomfortable when ignored."

"So?" I whispered.

"So I'm offering you a position. You'll remain my mate in private—satisfying the bond, satisfying my wolf's needs." His eyes raked over me possessively. "But publicly, Jocelyn will be the face of our pack. She'll handle the diplomatic duties, the ceremonies, the political alliances."

"You want me to be your mistress," I said flatly. "Your shadow mate."

"I want you to be practical," he countered, stepping closer. "This arrangement would give you protection, food, a purpose. What more could an Omega want?"

His fingers brushed my cheek, and despite everything, my traitorous body responded to his touch. The mate bond pulsed between us, a living thing demanding completion.

"I won't be your dirty secret," I said, pulling away from his touch. "I won't be hidden away while she wears my title."

His expression hardened. "You're being selfish. This isn't about you—it's about the pack."

"No," I said, finding strength I didn't know I possessed. "This is about you wanting everything without sacrifice."

Harrison's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. Without another word, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

---

A month later, a formal summons arrived at my door. The envelope bore the Alpha's seal—a silver wolf's head embossed in wax.

"Your presence is requested in the Alpha's office at noon," the messenger informed me stiffly.

I arrived precisely on time, my heart hammering against my ribs. Harrison sat behind his massive oak desk, looking up as I entered.

"You came," he said, as if surprised.

"It's not like I had a choice," I replied, noting the small wrapped package on his desk.

"Do you know why I called you here?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"No."

"Today marks the anniversary of your joining Silverclaw." His tone was businesslike. "And the day we met."

The reminder sent a pang through my chest. That day seemed like a lifetime ago—before I knew what it meant to have hope crushed.

"I have something for you," he said, pushing the small package toward me. "A gift."

With trembling fingers, I unwrapped the coarse brown paper. Inside was a burlap sack filled with dried herbs—common medicinal plants that grew wild along the pack borders.

"For your... weak constitution," he explained, not meeting my eyes. "They'll strengthen you."

I clutched the sack tightly, unsure whether to laugh or cry. "Thank you, Alpha."

Hours later, I stood in the corner of the dining hall, serving dinner to Harrison and his guests. My eyes kept drifting to Jocelyn, who sat at his right hand where a Luna should be.

Around her neck gleamed the Silverclaw Moonstone—an ancient artifact passed down through generations of Lunas. The stone was said to react to the true Luna's energy, glowing with an inner light when worn by the rightful mate.

But around Jocelyn's neck, it hung dull and lifeless.

Harrison didn't seem to notice. "You look beautiful tonight," he told her, his fingers brushing hers as he reached for his wine glass.

I stood frozen, the herbs he'd given me earlier burning a hole in my pocket as I watched him fasten his attention on her—the public Luna, the chosen one.

And me? I was just the girl with weeds in her pocket, serving them both.

The Great Hall buzzed with activity as wolves from the neighboring Moonridge Pack mingled with our own. I kept to the shadows, serving drinks and avoiding eye contact. My hands still ached from Harrison's rejection, but the physical pain paled compared to the hollow ache in my chest.

"Layla!" Poppy's voice cut through the noise as she waved me over to a quiet corner. Her bright smile was the only light in my dark world.

"Don't you look pretty tonight," she said, straightening the simple dress I'd managed to repair with careful stitches. "I told you that blue brings out your eyes."

I managed a small smile. "Thank you for covering my shift. I know it's—"

"Stop." She pressed her finger to my lips. "We're friends. Real friends."

The warmth of her gesture made my eyes sting with unshed tears. In a pack where I was nothing but a joke, Poppy had always stood by me.

"Did you hear about Jocelyn's new title?" she whispered, her expression darkening. "She's calling herself the 'Acting Luna' now."

The words hit like a physical blow. I'd heard the whispers but hadn't wanted to believe them.

"Let's get you some water," Poppy said, noticing my pale face. She disappeared into the crowd, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I didn't notice Jocelyn approach until her shadow fell across me.

"Look at you," she sneered, her perfect features twisted with disgust. "Still lurking around like a ghost. Harrison's little secret."

I lowered my eyes, determined not to give her the satisfaction of seeing me break.

"Nothing to say?" She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "No matter. Everyone knows your place now."

When I looked up, she was gone—but the damage was done. My hands trembled as I continued serving, trying to ignore the weight of stares.

Poppy returned with two glasses of water, her eyes bright with indignation. "She was talking to you, wasn't she? What did she say this time?"

"Nothing important," I murmured.

"She's nothing but a fraud," Poppy hissed, accepting a glass from a passing server. "And that Moonstone around her neck—it's a disgrace. It hasn't glowed once."

I gasped, grabbing her arm. "Poppy, don't. She'll hear you."

"I don't care if she does!" Poppy's voice rose. "Someone needs to—"

She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening in shock. The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering on the stone floor.

"Layla," she whispered, her voice strained. "Something's wrong."

Before I could respond, her body began to contort. Bones cracked and reformed as fur erupted across her skin.

"Poppy!" I screamed, reaching for her as she collapsed.

She thrashed wildly, her partially shifted form writhing on the floor. Guests scattered, tables overturned, and chaos erupted throughout the hall.

"What's happening?" I cried, trying to hold her still.

"She's shifting uncontrollably!" Someone shouted. "Get the Alpha!"

Jocelyn's voice cut through the panic: "The Omegas are revolting! They're attacking the guests!"

"No!" I protested. "She would never—"

A familiar scent hit me then—bitter and sharp. Wolfsbane. I'd smelled it in the kitchens before, but this was concentrated, deadly.

"Someone poisoned her drink," I realized aloud, horror washing over me.

Jocelyn's eyes met mine across the room, a small smile playing at her lips.

Heavy footsteps thundered toward us as Harrison burst into the hall, his face a mask of fury.

"What is the meaning of this?" he roared.

"Alpha," Jocelyn cried, rushing to his side. "The Omega attacked me when I confronted her about disrespecting you!"

"That's not true!" I shouted, still trying to hold Poppy down as she thrashed.

Harrison's eyes darkened as he approached us. Without asking for an explanation, he towered over me.

"KNEEL," he commanded, his Alpha Voice crashing into me like a physical force.

My knees buckled instantly. The command was impossible to resist—it crushed me to the floorboards beside Poppy's writhing form. I felt something crack in my chest as I hit the ground hard.

"Alpha, please," I gasped, pain radiating through my ribs. "She's been poisoned—"

"SILENCE!" His voice cut through my plea.

I bit my lip until I tasted blood, fighting to stay conscious as Poppy's claws accidentally raked across my arm.

"Apologize," Harrison ordered, his voice cold. "Apologize to our guests for this disruption and for your incompetence."

Tears burned my eyes as I looked up at the circle of faces—visiting Alphas, their Betas, and my own pack members—all watching my humiliation.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words ash in my mouth.

"Louder," Harrison demanded. "So everyone can hear your shame."

"I'm sorry," I repeated, my voice breaking as Poppy whimpered beside me.

Harrison's eyes narrowed. "You've proven yourself unworthy of pack resources. Until further notice, you'll receive only starvation rations."

The room spun around me as his words sank in. Starvation rations—barely enough to keep a wolf alive, let alone healthy.

"As for your friend," he continued, looking down at Poppy with disgust, "she'll be confined until she learns control."

As he turned away, Jocelyn's hand slipped into his, her triumphant smile burning into my memory as darkness crept at the edges of my vision.