The bitter wind of the northern border howled through the pines, but the chill in my heart had nothing to do with the weather. I trailed behind the patrol group, my boots crunching softly on the frost-hardened earth. Even here, amidst the warriors of the Blackwood Pack, I was an outcast.

Up ahead, Alpha Ronan Pierce moved with the lethal grace of a predator. His broad shoulders blocked the wind, his aura radiating a power that made my wolf, Silver, whine in submission. Walking beside him—too close, always too close—was Blair. Her laughter tinkled like shattered glass, sharp and artificial, as she whispered something in his ear. He leaned in, listening. He never listened to me.

"Focus, Elise," I scolded myself, wrapping my thin coat tighter. I was the Luna, even if they treated me like an Omega.

The scent hit me first—a pungent, rotting odor masking the crisp pine. Rogues.

"Ambush!" I screamed, but my warning was swallowed by the roar of the earth.

From the ridge above, boulders the size of cars broke loose, thundering down toward the path. Not nature—a trap. They were aiming directly for the Alpha. Ronan was distracted, turning toward my voice, too slow to see the death hurtling toward him.

I didn't think. I didn't breathe. I just shifted.

The change ripped through me, clothes shredding as Silver burst forth. I wasn't a warrior; I was small, silver, and often mocked for my size. But I was fast. I launched myself forward, a silver blur against the grey stone, and slammed my shoulder into Ronan’s chest, shoving him out of the kill zone.

*CRACK.*

The sound was sickening. The falling rock didn't miss me. It crushed my hind legs, pinning me to the frozen ground. A howl of pure agony tore from my throat, echoing through the canyon. Pain, white-hot and blinding, exploded up my spine. My back legs were useless, shattered beneath the crushing weight of the stone.

Dust swirled around us. The chaos settled into a terrifying silence. I whimpered, looking up through the haze, waiting for Ronan. He was safe. I had saved him.

Ronan stood up, brushing dust from his tactical gear. He looked at me, but his eyes held no gratitude. They were hard. Cold.

"Oh, for Goddess's sake," Blair’s voice cut through the ringing in my ears. She stepped out from behind a tree, barely a smudge of dirt on her pristine face. "Look at her, Ronan. Always the victim. It was just a few loose rocks, and she's wailing like a dying pup to get your attention."

*No,* I tried to mind-link him, but the pain made my mental voice static. *My legs... I can't move.*

"The Rogues are gone," Blair continued, her voice dripping with fake pity. "She probably sensed them miles away and waited for the dramatic moment. She’s weakening the pack, Ronan. A Luna who cries over a scratch?"

Ronan’s jaw tightened. The disgust in his scent hit me harder than the boulder. "Shift, Elise."

I whined, scraping my front claws against the frozen dirt. I couldn't. Shifting with broken bones would be torture.

"I said, *shift*!" Ronan roared, using the Alpha Tone.

The command slammed into me like a physical blow. It bypassed my will, forcing my body to obey. I screamed—a human scream this time—as my bones snapped and rearranged. The rock didn't move, so my legs had to pull free from underneath it. The sound of grinding bone made the warriors look away, but Ronan didn't blink.

I lay naked and shivering in the snow, my legs twisted at unnatural angles, the skin purple and bleeding. I gasped for air, tears freezing on my cheeks.

"Get up," Ronan commanded, looming over me.

"I... I can't," I sobbed, reaching a trembling hand toward him. "Ronan, please. They're broken."

"Stop acting!" he spat, stepping back as if my touch would infect him. "Blair is right. You use your weakness as a weapon. I am done coddling you."

He turned his back on me. "If you want to be Luna, you will return to the Pack House under your own power. No assistance. That is an Alpha command."

"Ronan, no!" I screamed, but he was already shifting into his massive black wolf. Blair smirked down at me, her eyes dancing with malice, before shifting into her russet wolf and trotting after him. The warriors hesitated, looking at my mangled legs, but the Alpha’s command was absolute. They left.

I was alone.

The blizzard rolled in minutes later, turning the world into a wall of white. I dragged myself by my elbows, leaving a trail of blood on the pristine snow. Every inch was a battle against unconsciousness. My fingers turned blue, then grey.

*Protect the baby,* I chanted internally, the only thought keeping me alive. *I have to save the heir.*

I hadn't told Ronan yet. I wanted it to be a surprise. Now, the secret felt like a heavy stone in my belly.

Through the howling wind, shadows emerged. Not pack.

Rogues. The ones who had set the trap.

"Look what the Alpha left behind," a rough voice sneered.

I tried to scramble back, but my broken legs were dead weight. A boot slammed into my ribs, flipping me onto my back. I screamed, curling into a ball to protect my stomach, but I was weak, frozen, and broken.

They descended on me like vultures. Blow after blow rained down. I couldn't fight. I couldn't shift.

Then, the kick came. A heavy, steel-toed boot drove straight into my lower abdomen.

Time stopped.

The pain wasn't physical. It was spiritual. Deep inside me, a tiny, golden tether—the bond I had felt growing for weeks—suddenly snapped. The warmth in my womb turned to ice.

"No..." I whispered, the sound lost in the wind.

Blood, hot and terrifyingly copious, soaked the snow between my thighs. The Rogues laughed, satisfied with their cruelty, and faded back into the storm.

I lay staring up at the grey sky. The physical pain of my legs was gone, replaced by a hollow, crushing void where my baby used to be. The Alpha heir was gone. My pup was gone.

As darkness finally took me, I didn't pray for Ronan to save me. I prayed that when I woke up, I wouldn't love him anymore.

The smell of antiseptic burned my nose, harsh and chemical, dragging me out of the darkness. I blinked, the harsh fluorescent lights of the Pack infirmary stinging my eyes. My body felt heavy, like it was filled with lead, but there was a strange, terrifying lightness in my abdomen.

My hand flew to my stomach instantly.

Flat. Empty.

The golden tether I had nurtured for weeks, the tiny spark of life that had been my secret joy, was gone. A hollow, aching void had taken its place, a silence so loud it screamed.

"My baby..." The words scraped out of my dry throat, a broken whisper.

"It is gone, Elise."

The voice was cold, devoid of any emotion. I turned my head, wincing as pain shot through my neck. Alpha Ronan stood at the foot of the bed. He wasn't looking at me with worry or grief. His arms were crossed over his chest, his muscles tense, and his eyes... his eyes were chips of ice.

Blair stood beside him, her hand resting possessively on his forearm. She wore a look of practiced concern, but the corner of her mouth twitched with a suppressed smirk. Behind them, Healer Marcus Thorne adjusted his glasses, holding a clipboard with trembling hands.

"Ronan," I choked out, tears blurring my vision. I tried to sit up, but agony exploded in my shattered legs. They were encased in heavy casts, useless and throbbing. "The Rogues... they attacked me. I tried to save—"

"Save what?" Ronan cut me off, his voice low and dangerous. "The evidence of your betrayal?"

I froze. "What?"

Ronan nodded to Marcus. The Healer stepped forward, refusing to meet my eyes. He cleared his throat, the sound loud in the silent room.

"Luna Elise," Marcus began, his voice shaky. "We... we performed a D&C to remove the remains of the fetus. Standard procedure after a violent miscarriage. However, Alpha Ronan requested a paternity verification due to the... circumstances of where you were found."

"Circumstances?" I gasped. "I was crawling home! Because you ordered me to!"

"Read it," Ronan commanded, ignoring my outburst.

Marcus lifted the paper. "The genetic markers of the fetus do not match the Alpha bloodline. The DNA is chaotic and degraded. It matches the profile of a Rogue."

The world tilted on its axis. The air left the room.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head violently. "That's a lie. That's impossible! Ronan, I have never been with anyone but you! It was our pup! Our heir!"

"Don't you dare call that thing my heir!" Ronan roared, the sound vibrating through the walls. He stepped closer, looming over the bed like an executioner. "Blair told me you were disappearing during border patrols. I didn't want to believe her. I thought you were just lazy. But you were whoring yourself out to Rogues?"

"I wasn't!" I screamed, hysteria clawing at my throat. I looked at Blair, seeing the triumph in her eyes. "She's lying! Marcus is lying! Ronan, please, look at me! Use your wolf! You know my scent!"

"Your scent is covered in the filth of the Rogues who claimed you," Blair said softly, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Oh, Ronan. I'm so sorry. To think she would carry a bastard and try to pass it off as a Pierce..."

"It was a blessing it died," Marcus muttered, finally looking up with cold, dead eyes. "A Rogue bastard would have polluted the pack."

My heart shattered. Not into pieces, but into dust. They were talking about my baby—our baby—like it was trash.

"Get out," Ronan said. His voice wasn't a shout anymore; it was a growl.

"Ronan, please... my legs..." I sobbed, reaching a hand toward him. I needed his comfort. I needed my mate. The bond in my chest pulled at him, desperate for acknowledgment, but he slammed a mental wall down, blocking me out completely.

"I, Ronan Pierce, Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, hereby strip you, Elise West, of your title as Luna," he announced. The words carried the weight of Alpha authority, slamming into my chest like a physical blow. I felt the pack link sever, the hum of the other wolves vanishing from my mind, leaving me utterly alone.

"You are no longer Luna. You are barely a pack member. You are a disgrace."

He turned to the two warriors standing guard by the door. "Get this filth out of my infirmary. She doesn't deserve the beds reserved for loyal wolves."

"Where... where should we take her, Alpha?" one guard asked, looking at my cast-bound legs uncertainly.

"The Omega quarters," Ronan spat. "The basement. Let her rot in the damp where she belongs."

"Ronan!" I screamed as the guards moved forward. Rough hands grabbed my arms. They didn't care about my injuries. They dragged me off the bed. My heavy casts hit the linoleum floor with a sickening thud.

Pain white-hot and blinding shot up my spine, but I couldn't stop screaming. I reached out, my fingers scraping against the floor tiles, leaving streaks of blood from where my IV had been ripped out.

Ronan didn't look back. He turned to Blair, burying his face in her neck, seeking comfort from the woman who had orchestrated the death of his child.

As the guards dragged me backward out of the room, the last thing I saw was Blair looking over Ronan's shoulder. She winked.

Then the heavy doors swung shut, and I was hauled into the darkness, leaving my heart and my dead child behind.

The darkness of the Omega quarters wasn't just an absence of light; it was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest until every breath felt like inhaling broken glass. They had thrown me into the furthest cell, a damp stone box that smelled of mildew and old despair. My legs, still encased in the heavy, crude plaster casts the guards hadn't bothered to check, throbbed with a rhythm that matched the erratic beating of my heart.

But the agony in my shattered bones was nothing compared to the silence inside me.

I curled on the thin, moth-eaten mattress, wrapping my arms around my flat stomach. For weeks, there had been a hum there—a golden tether of life, a tiny second heartbeat that whispered of a future where I wasn't just the unwanted mate, but a mother. Now, there was only a gaping, bloody void.

"Silver?" I whispered into the dark, reaching for my wolf.

Usually, she was a comforting presence in the back of my mind, a source of warmth. Today, there was nothing. No whimper, no growl, no comforting nuzzle against my consciousness. The trauma of the miscarriage and the forced rejection had broken her. She had retreated so deep into the recesses of my mind that I felt utterly, terrifyingly human.

I was alone in the dark, bleeding and broken, while the man who had done this to me slept in a warm bed upstairs.

***

Time lost its meaning in the dark. Days bled into nights, marked only by the slide of a metal tray under the door containing stale bread and watery soup.

My only connection to the world was a narrow, barred window near the ceiling, level with the ground outside. If I dragged myself across the rough stone floor—ignoring the white-hot spikes of pain shooting up my legs—I could just barely see the Pack House grounds.

It was torture, but I couldn't stop looking.

Two weeks after my imprisonment, I pulled myself up to the bars, my fingers trembling. Outside, the pack was gathering for the monthly Moon Festival. Bonfires crackled, sending sparks into the twilight sky. Laughter drifted down, muffled by the glass but sharp enough to cut.

Then I saw them.

Ronan stood near the main fire, looking devastatingly handsome in a black button-down shirt. He held a goblet of wine, his posture relaxed, his Alpha aura commanding even from a distance. But he wasn't looking at the fire. He was looking at her.

Blair.

She moved through the crowd with the grace of a queen, greeting the pack elders, touching the shoulders of the warriors. She was wearing my dress—a deep crimson silk gown I had bought for my first anniversary, the one Ronan had said was too flashy for me. On her, it looked like armor.

She threw her head back, laughing at something an Elder said, and the diamonds around her neck caught the firelight. My diamonds. The Luna's necklace.

Ronan reached out as she passed him, his hand settling possessively on her lower back. He pulled her close, whispering something against her hair that made her smile soften into something intimate and triumphant. He didn't look like a man grieving his dead child. He didn't look like a man whose mate was rotting in a dungeon beneath his feet.

He looked happy.

I slid down the wall, biting my knuckle to stifle a scream. The concrete scraped against my back, but I barely felt it. He had replaced me. Not just as Luna, but as his partner. It was as if I had never existed.

***

The heavy clank of the lock jolted me awake. I didn't know how much time had passed since the festival—maybe days, maybe a week. The heavy iron door creaked open, spilling harsh hallway light into my cell. I squinted, shielding my eyes.

"Leave us," a silky voice commanded.

The guard grunted and footsteps faded away.

Blair stepped into the cell. She was immaculate, wearing a crisp white cashmere sweater and designer jeans, her hair falling in perfect, glossy waves. The scent of vanilla and expensive perfume filled the stagnant air, making me gag.

"You look dreadful, Elise," she said, wrinkling her nose as she looked around the filth. "Though I suppose this setting suits an Omega rat."

I tried to sit up, pushing myself against the wall. My casts were gray with dirt, my hospital gown stained and torn. "What do you want, Blair? Came to gloat?"

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. She placed a small basket on the floor. "I brought you fresh fruit. Ronan thought it would be... humane."

"I don't want your charity," I rasped.

She laughed, a low, dark sound. "It's not charity, sweetie. It's a victory lap." She took a step closer, the sweet facade melting away to reveal the predator beneath. Her eyes gleamed with malice. "You know, watching you through that window... it was almost too easy."

"You're lying," I spat, though my voice lacked strength. "The DNA test... Marcus said—"

"Marcus says whatever I pay him to say," Blair interrupted, crouching down so she was eye-level with me. "Do you have any idea how much debt that man is in? A few thousand dollars, and he'd sign a paper saying the sky is green. That report was fake, Elise. Obviously."

My breath hitched. I knew it, but hearing her say it... "You killed my baby."

"Technically, the Rogues did," she shrugged, examining her manicured nails. "Though I did pay them a handsome fee to be in the area. I told them to rough you up, maybe scare you. I didn't know you were pregnant. That was just... a happy accident."

A happy accident. My child. My flesh and blood.

"Ronan will kill you," I whispered, shaking. "When he finds out—"

"He won't," she hissed, her face suddenly inches from mine. "Because he trusts me. He listens to me. He's always loved me, Elise. You were just a biological inconvenience, a mistake by the Moon Goddess. Why do you think he believed the lie so quickly?"

She stood up, brushing imaginary dust from her jeans. "He wanted to believe it. He wanted a reason to get rid of you so he could finally have me properly. I just gave him the excuse."

She walked to the door, pausing with her hand on the frame. "Enjoy the fruit, Elise. Try to regain your strength. The Rejection Ceremony is coming up, and I want you conscious enough to feel every second of it."

The door slammed shut, drowning me in darkness once more. But this time, the silence wasn't empty. It was filled with the roar of my own blood.

He wanted to believe it.

I stared at the basket of fruit, my vision blurring not with tears, but with a cold, hard rage. They thought they had broken me. They thought I was just a weak Omega who would die in the dark.

I placed a hand on my heart. It was beating slow, steady, and heavy with hate. I wasn't going to die here. I was going to survive. And I was going to burn their world to the ground.