The full moon hung heavy in the night sky, its silver light bathing the forest in an ethereal glow. Two weeks had passed since the ceremony that shattered my world. Two weeks since I'd placed my trembling hand in Ethan's, accepting a lifeline I never knew I needed.

"Are you ready?" Ethan's voice was gentle as we stood at the edge of the Silver Creek territory, the pack gathering for the monthly run.

I nodded, though my heart hammered against my ribs. As a wolfless Omega, I'd always watched these runs from the sidelines, helping the elders tend to the pups too young to shift. Tonight would be different. Tonight I would run with my mate—even if only in human form.

"They're staring," I whispered, feeling the weight of curious eyes. News of our unexpected bond had spread like wildfire through the pack.

"Let them," Ethan replied, his fingers intertwining with mine. "I've waited too long to hide how I feel about you."

All around us, pack members began to shift, bones cracking and reforming as human skin gave way to fur. The air filled with excited yips and howls as wolves greeted the moon. I felt a familiar pang of loss—the emptiness where my wolf should be.

But then something unexpected happened. A warm presence brushed against my mind, like sunlight breaking through clouds.

*I'm here, Luna.*

Ethan's wolf voice resonated in my head, deep and rich. I gasped, turning to find him still in human form beside me, his silver-flecked eyes glowing in the moonlight.

"How can I hear you?" I whispered. "I'm wolfless."

He smiled, a rare sight that transformed his usually stoic face. *Our mate bond. It's stronger than you know.*

As the pack disappeared into the trees, Ethan led me to a moonlit clearing. We sat side by side on a fallen log, the sounds of the hunt echoing in the distance.

"I want to show you something," he said, taking my hands in his. "Close your eyes."

I obeyed, and suddenly my mind filled with images—memories that weren't mine. I saw myself through Ethan's eyes, tending to Rose in the pack's healing den. I felt his admiration as I wove protective charms into my sister's hair, his heart aching with a love he couldn't express.

The scene shifted. I was running through Silver Creek territory at night, but it wasn't me—it was Ethan in wolf form, a massive silver beast patrolling our borders. Night after night, he guarded the weakest sections of our territory, places where rogues might slip through.

"You've been protecting us," I whispered, eyes still closed. "All this time."

*Always,* his wolf's voice purred in my mind.

Another memory surfaced—Rose, convulsing on the forest floor during a failed shift attempt two years ago. Ethan finding her, his massive wolf form gently carrying her back to the pack. His wolf communicating with hers, coaxing her back from the brink.

My eyes flew open. "You saved Rose?"

He nodded, a shadow crossing his face. "Her wolf recognized mine. She's stronger than anyone knows, Luna."

Tears filled my eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't my place," he said simply. "You were... elsewhere."

With Alexander. The name I couldn't bring myself to speak aloud.

We sat in silence as the moon climbed higher. For the first time since the betrayal, I felt something other than pain—a tentative warmth, a fragile hope.

Our moment of peace shattered with the sound of approaching footsteps. David Carter, our Alpha, emerged from the trees, his expression grim.

"Luna," he said, not meeting my eyes. "You're needed at the healing den. It's Rose."

My blood turned to ice. "What's happened?"

"Sophia had some kind of shifting crisis," he explained, his tone carefully neutral. "Elara had to use the moon-herbs for her treatment."

"But Rose's treatment—" I began, panic rising in my throat.

"I'm sorry," was all he said.

I ran, faster than I'd ever moved, Ethan a silent shadow behind me. When we reached the healing den, I found chaos. Sophia lay on the main cot, dramatically gasping for breath, Alexander hovering protectively at her side. Elara, our healer, looked exhausted, her hands stained with the precious blue moon-herb paste.

And in the corner, on her small pallet, lay Rose—her breathing shallow, her skin burning with fever.

"What happened?" I demanded, rushing to my sister's side.

"Sophia collapsed during her shift," Elara explained, her voice strained. "I had to use the moon-herbs we'd reserved for Rose's treatment."

I looked up to see Sophia watching me, a flicker of something triumphant in her eyes before she winced theatrically and clutched at Alexander's arm.

"Luna," Rose whispered, her voice barely audible. "Don't be angry."

I took her burning hand in mine, feeling Ethan's steady presence behind me. "I need to find more herbs," I said desperately. "There must be someone—"

"The rogue healer," Ethan suggested quietly. "The one who passed through last moon."

Hope flared in my chest. "Yes. He might still be near the eastern border."

"Pack protocol forbids outside intervention," Alexander's cold voice cut through the den. "Especially from rogues."

I turned to him, fury burning away my fear. "My sister is dying."

He met my gaze without flinching, his arm still around Sophia. "Pack law is clear."

In that moment, I knew with terrible certainty that Rose's fate had been sealed—not by illness, but by betrayal far crueler than I could have imagined.

I held Rose's burning hand through the night, whispering promises I wasn't sure I could keep. Ethan never left my side, his steady presence anchoring me as the moon's light faded and dawn's first rays crept through the healing den's small window.

Rose's breathing had grown more labored with each passing hour. The fever ravaged her fragile body, her wolf too weak to fight without the moon-herbs that had been used on Sophia instead.

"Luna," Rose whispered, her voice so faint I had to lean closer. Her eyes fluttered open, glassy with fever but somehow lucid. "Don't be sad."

"Save your strength," I begged, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead. "You'll get better."

She smiled, that same wise smile that always made her seem older than her thirteen years. "My wolf knows it's time."

"No," I choked, tears streaming down my face. "Please, Rose. Fight."

Ethan's hand came to rest on my shoulder, his touch grounding me as Rose's fingers tightened weakly around mine.

"You'll be okay," she whispered. "I saw it. You and him. The white wolf."

I didn't understand her fevered words, but I nodded anyway, desperate to give her peace. "I love you, Rose. More than anything."

"I know," she breathed, her eyes drifting to Ethan. Something passed between them, a look of understanding I couldn't decipher.

The sun broke fully over the horizon, bathing the room in golden light. Rose's eyes followed the sunbeam, a small smile touching her lips.

"Pretty," she murmured.

And then her hand went limp in mine.

"Rose?" I shook her gently, then more frantically. "Rose!"

But I knew. Her chest no longer rose and fell. The warmth was already fading from her skin.

A howl of anguish tore from my throat, primal and raw. Ethan's arms encircled me as I collapsed, my world crumbling for the second time in two weeks.

This time, there would be no putting it back together.

* * *

The pack gathered at dusk for Rose's funeral pyre. As her only family, I stood closest to the carefully arranged wood where her small body lay wrapped in white linen. Wildflowers and protective charms—the same ones I'd braided into her hair countless times—surrounded her.

I barely registered the pack Alpha's ceremonial words, my eyes fixed on Rose's peaceful face. She looked like she was sleeping, the pain and struggle finally gone.

Sophia and Alexander stood at the edge of the gathering. I felt their presence like a physical wound. Sophia's face was a mask of practiced grief, but I'd caught her smug glance when she thought no one was watching.

The Alpha handed me the torch. With trembling hands, I touched it to the pyre. Flames leapt eagerly to the dry wood, crackling in the twilight silence.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to Rose as the fire grew. "I failed you."

Ethan stepped forward, his face solemn in the flickering light. "You never failed her," he said, his voice carrying clearly to the gathered pack. "You were her strength, her protector."

He turned to face the flames, his profile sharp against the fire. "Two years ago, I found Rose during a shifting crisis. Her wolf was fading, slipping away. I used our pack bond to anchor her, to guide her back."

My breath caught. The memory he'd shown me in the forest.

"Her wolf made me promise something that night," Ethan continued, his eyes meeting mine. "She made me vow to protect you both. I've honored that promise as best I could."

He stepped closer, his silver-flecked eyes reflecting the flames. "I will continue to honor it, Luna Evans. If you'll let me."

The pack watched in silence as Ethan knelt before me, baring his neck in the ancient gesture of submission—a Delta warrior offering himself to an Omega. The ultimate reversal of pack hierarchy.

"My wolf has always known you," he said softly. "Let me be your strength now, as you were hers."

Tears streamed down my face as I looked from Rose's burning pyre to Ethan's bowed head. In that moment, I felt something shift inside me—grief transforming into resolve, pain hardening into purpose.

I placed my hand on Ethan's neck, feeling his pulse strong beneath my fingers. "Yes," I whispered.

He rose in one fluid motion, his eyes never leaving mine as he gently brushed my hair away from my neck. The pack collectively held their breath as Ethan lowered his head, his lips brushing my skin before his teeth sank into the tender flesh where my neck met my shoulder.

Pain flared briefly, then gave way to a flood of warmth that rushed through my body. Our bond, tentative before, now blazed to life, binding us together as the flames bound Rose's spirit to the Moon Goddess.

As Ethan's mark sealed on my skin, I caught Alexander's stunned expression across the pyre. For the first time since his betrayal, I met his gaze without flinching.

In the ashes of my sister's pyre, surrounded by the pack that had always dismissed me, I made a silent vow of my own: This was only the beginning.