The physical therapist's hands were firm but gentle as she guided my leg through another stretch. "You're making remarkable progress, Luna Victoria," she said, her voice tinged with genuine admiration. "Most patients who've been comatose for so long take months to regain this level of mobility."

I offered her a small, grateful smile while Athena snorted in our shared consciousness. 'Tell her it's because we've been exercising every night when everyone thinks we're sleeping.'

'Hush,' I silently responded. 'We need them to underestimate us.'

"Thank you," I said aloud, maintaining my facade of fragile recovery. "I just want to be strong enough for the marking ceremony. Alpha Marcus is so eager..."

The therapist's expression softened. "He certainly is. The whole pack has witnessed his devotion these past ten years. Not once did he consider another mate, even with you unconscious."

I lowered my eyes to hide the flash of rage I couldn't quite suppress. If only she knew how Marcus had spent those years, playing the grieving, loyal mate in public while sharing Isabella's bed in private.

"Speaking of the Alpha," the therapist continued, checking her watch, "he should be here soon for your afternoon visit."

I nodded, having already noticed the pattern. Marcus would arrive promptly at two o'clock, spend exactly forty-five minutes holding my hand and updating me on pack matters, then make some excuse about urgent Alpha business. By three, he'd be gone—and I knew exactly where he was going.

When the therapist stepped out to retrieve some equipment, I quickly reached into my bag and pulled out a small recording device Nathan had provided. With practiced movements, I slipped it into the supportive brace I still wore on my ankle—the perfect hiding spot, as no one questioned why I needed it.

Marcus arrived right on schedule, his handsome face arranged in an expression of tender concern that made my stomach turn.

"How's my Luna feeling today?" he asked, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

Athena growled. 'I'd rather bite off his fingers than have them touch us.'

"Better," I replied softly. "The therapist says I might be able to take short walks outside soon."

His eyes lit up. "Perfect timing. The marking ceremony preparations are coming along wonderfully. The pack is thrilled to finally celebrate our union properly."

We chatted for the usual forty-five minutes, with me playing my role of adoring, amnesiac mate while secretly noting every detail of his schedule. As expected, he eventually glanced at his watch with a practiced look of regret.

"I hate to leave you, my love, but there's a border dispute I must handle. Rest now, and I'll see you at dinner."

As soon as he left, I waited fifteen minutes before carefully rising from my bed. I'd been building my strength for this moment. Changing quickly into dark clothing Nathan had smuggled in, I slipped out through the window—a route I'd practiced multiple times during my nighttime exercises.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the forest as I followed Marcus at a safe distance. Athena's enhanced senses guided me, keeping me downwind so his wolf wouldn't catch my scent. After twenty minutes of careful tracking, the trees opened to reveal a small, secluded cabin nestled against a rocky outcropping.

My heart pounded as I positioned myself behind a large oak with a clear view of the entrance. I didn't have to wait long. A sleek black car pulled up, and Isabella emerged, her long dark hair flowing loose around her shoulders. She wore a tight red dress that left little to the imagination, clearly dressed for Marcus's eyes only.

I pulled out the small camera Nathan had provided and began recording as Marcus emerged from the cabin. His entire demeanor had changed—gone was the solemn, responsible Alpha. In his place stood a man consumed with passion as he swept Isabella into his arms, kissing her with an intensity he'd never shown me.

"I've missed you," I heard him murmur against her neck. "These daily visits to the infirmary are torture."

Isabella's laugh was low and sultry. "Poor baby, having to pretend to care for your comatose mate. How much longer until we don't have to hide?"

"Soon," he promised, leading her inside. "Once the marking ceremony is complete, the bond will be sealed. Then we can arrange another... accident."

My blood ran cold as I continued filming their reunion through the cabin's large windows. The evidence was damning—Marcus in his true form, planning my death while in the arms of his lover.

* * *

Three nights later, the great hall of the Silvermoon Pack house glowed with warm light as pack members gathered for the pre-marking celebration dinner. I sat beside Marcus at the head table, wearing a silver gown that highlighted my still-too-thin frame, the recorder and camera safely hidden in my quarters with copies already sent to Nathan.

"A toast," Marcus announced, raising his glass to the assembled pack members. "To my Luna, returned to us after ten long years. Soon our bond will be complete."

Cheers erupted around us as glasses clinked. I smiled demurely, playing my part while scanning the room. Isabella wasn't present—too painful for her to witness, no doubt.

As the meal progressed, I waited for my moment. When conversation lulled, I touched Marcus's arm gently.

"I had the strangest dream last night," I said, my voice soft but clear enough to carry to nearby tables. "Or perhaps it was a memory returning."

Marcus stiffened beside me, though his smile remained fixed. "Oh? What was it about?"

I tilted my head thoughtfully. "I was in the forest, and there was a cabin... and voices. Your voice, and a woman's. It seemed so real."

The color drained from his face, though he quickly recovered. When he spoke again, there was a hint of his Alpha tone, commanding and slightly threatening.

"Dreams can be confusing during recovery," he said firmly. "Best not to dwell on them. They're rarely what they seem."

I lowered my eyes submissively. "Of course, Alpha. You know best."

But as I raised my glass to my lips, I caught his reflection in the crystal—his eyes had narrowed, calculating, worried. The trap was set. Now I just needed to wait for him to make his move.

The dinner's tension lingered in my veins long after the last guest departed. Marcus had been visibly shaken by my casual mention of the cabin—exactly as I'd hoped. Now was the time to push further while he was off-balance.

'He'll be meeting with the council elders for at least two hours,' Athena reminded me as I slipped from my quarters. 'Plenty of time to search his study.'

The hallways of the pack house were quiet at this late hour. I moved silently, my body remembering its former strength more with each passing day. The lock on Marcus's study door was no match for the small tool Nathan had provided—another debt I was accruing to the mysterious Lycan enforcer.

The study smelled overwhelmingly of Marcus—pine and winter frost—making Athena bristle within me. 'Focus,' she growled. 'We need those financial records.'

I went straight to the antique desk dominating the room. The top drawer opened easily, revealing nothing but stationery and pens. The second contained pack reports—territory disputes, alliance proposals, birth records. But the third drawer was locked.

'There,' Athena urged. 'That's where he'd hide anything important.'

It took longer to pick this lock, my hands trembling slightly with anticipation. When it finally clicked open, I found several leather-bound ledgers neatly stacked inside. I pulled them out, spreading them across the desk under the soft glow of the lamp.

The first ledger contained standard pack accounting—territory taxes, maintenance costs, salaries for pack employees. But the second book told a different story. Hidden between legitimate entries were regular transfers to an offshore account, disguised as "maintenance reserves" or "emergency funds." The amounts were staggering—millions siphoned from pack coffers over the past decade.

But what made my blood truly boil was the third ledger. This one detailed transfers from my own inheritance—the Moonstone Pack funds that should have been held in trust during my coma. Marcus had somehow gained access and had been steadily draining it, converting my birthright into his personal slush fund.

'That bastard,' Athena snarled. 'He's been stealing from us while playing the devoted mate.'

I quickly photographed each damning page with the small camera Nathan had provided. The evidence was mounting—first his affair with Isabella, now financial fraud that would outrage both our packs.

* * *

Three days later, I found myself in unfamiliar territory—literally. The full moon festival of the Crescent Valley Pack, Isabella's home pack, was in full swing as I slipped among the revelers. I wore a hooded cloak that concealed my face and scent-blocking oils Nathan had provided. No one would recognize the supposedly frail, recovering Luna of the Silvermoon Pack here.

'There they are,' Athena alerted me, her senses sharper than my human ones.

I positioned myself behind a large oak tree with a clear view of the central bonfire. Marcus had arrived with a small delegation—officially to strengthen inter-pack relations, but I knew the real reason stood just across the clearing.

Isabella was resplendent in a flowing white dress that emphasized her curves, her dark hair adorned with moon flowers. She moved with the confidence of a woman who knew her power, circling the gathering until she casually intersected with Marcus's path.

I activated the recorder in my pocket as they greeted each other with the formal pack greeting—a clasp of forearms that lingered just a moment too long.

"Alpha Sterling," she purred, loud enough for nearby wolves to hear. "How kind of you to grace our humble celebration."

"The honor is mine," Marcus replied, his voice carrying the formal tone of an Alpha, though I could detect the undercurrent of desire. "Your pack's hospitality is renowned."

Their public interaction remained proper, but as the night progressed and the moon rose higher, Isabella grew bolder. During a traditional dance around the bonfire, she maneuvered to partner with Marcus. When the dance brought them close to the edge of the clearing—away from most observers but directly in my line of sight—she made her move.

With deliberate slowness, she leaned in and dragged her cheek against his neck, a blatant scent-marking that went far beyond any acceptable interaction between an unmated female and a supposedly committed Alpha.

Marcus tensed, his eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed. But instead of pushing her away, he allowed it, even tilting his head slightly to give her better access.

"Soon," I heard her whisper, the recorder capturing her words clearly. "Once your little Luna problem is resolved permanently."

His response was too low to hear, but his hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer, spoke volumes.

I'd seen enough. As I slipped away from the festival, the evidence safely recorded, Athena's satisfaction mirrored my own. Marcus thought he was playing a careful game, balancing his public image with his private desires. He had no idea the net was closing around him—and soon, very soon, I would pull it tight.