The ballroom of the Hamilton Pack House was suffocating, despite the grand double doors thrown open to the cool night air. Crystal chandeliers dripped light onto the polished floors, illuminating the sea of wolves dressed in their finest silks and suits. They were here to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the alliance between the Hamiltons and the Hunters—and, unofficially, to whisper about the heir growing inside me.

I rested a hand on the swell of my belly, wincing as a sharp kick radiated against my ribs. My ankles were swollen in these ridiculous heels, and my back ached with a dull, persistent throb. But as the Luna of the Hunter Moon Pack and the daughter of Alpha Hamilton, I had a role to play. I had to be the glowing, happy wife.

"Where are you, Lucas?" I murmured, scanning the crowd.

My eyes snagged on my father, Alpha Hamilton, laughing too loudly near the buffet. He held a glass of champagne in one hand, his other resting possessively on the lower back of a woman whose face I couldn't quite see. A shiver of unease crawled up my spine, but I shook it off. My focus was on my mate.

I finally spotted him near the balcony doors. Lucas stood with his back to the party, staring out into the darkness. The moonlight caught the sharp angle of his jaw, making him look more like a statue than a man. My heart gave a traitorous flutter. Even after a year of marriage, his scent—pine and rain—still made my wolf pace with need.

I wove through the crowd, dodging well-wishers and curious stares. "Lucas?"

He didn't turn around immediately. When he did, his expression wasn't the warm look of a mate greeting his pregnant wife. It was the guarded, blank mask of an Alpha addressing a subordinate.

"June," he said, his voice flat. "You should be sitting down."

"I wanted to find you," I said, reaching for his hand. His skin was cold. I guided his palm to my stomach, smiling tentatively. "He's been kicking all night. The little warrior knows his father is near."

For a split second, I saw something flicker in Lucas's eyes—pain? Guilt? But before I could decipher it, he flinched. He pulled his hand away as if my skin burned him.

"Don't," he snapped, too harsh, too loud. A few heads turned nearby.

My smile faltered. "Lucas? What's wrong?"

He adjusted his cufflinks, looking everywhere but at me. "Nothing. The noise is just… a lot. The integration of the border patrols is giving me a headache."

My wolf whined low in my chest. *He is lying,* she whispered. *He is closing the bond.* I could feel the wall slamming down in my mind, blocking me from his emotions. It was a cold, empty sensation.

"I have to take a call," Lucas said abruptly, already stepping away. "Business. Don't wait up."

He left me standing alone by the balcony, the festive music suddenly sounding like a funeral dirge. I watched him disappear into the shadows of the garden, my hand hovering over my belly, protecting the son his father didn't seem to want to touch.

***

The next morning, the sun was too bright, mocking the sleepless night I’d endured. I carried a tray of coffee and toast up the stairs to Lucas's home office. Maybe he was just stressed. Maybe the anniversary brought up bad memories of his parents. I could fix this. I was his Luna; it was my job to soothe him.

The heavy oak door to his office was unlocked. "Lucas?" I called softly, pushing it open.

The room was empty. His leather chair was spun away from the desk, and the air smelled stale. I set the tray down on the edge of his massive mahogany desk, my eyes drifting to the wall safe behind it. It was usually hidden behind a painting of the forest, but the frame was crooked, and the safe door was slightly ajar.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Lucas was meticulous. He never left things open. Panic flared—had we been robbed? Was there a breach in security?

I moved closer, my fingers trembling as I pulled the heavy steel door open. I expected to see missing ledgers or stolen cash. Instead, I saw a small, velvet-lined drawer pulled halfway out.

Inside, there were no confidential files. There was a silk scarf—a delicate, sheer thing patterned with violets—and a single, dried pressed flower. An orchid.

I frowned, reaching out. As soon as my fingertips brushed the silk, the scent hit me. It wasn't my jasmine. It wasn't the clean, sterile smell of the office. It was sickly sweet. Vanilla and orchid. Cloying and heavy.

It was the scent of Millie Perkins.

The world tilted on its axis. Millie? My childhood tormentor? The daughter of the woman who destroyed my mother? Why would my mate have her scarf locked in his private safe?

"What do you think you're doing?"

The voice was a thunderclap. I spun around, clutching the scarf to my chest. Lucas stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing with a fury I had never seen directed at me.

"Lucas," I stammered, the evidence of his betrayal burning my skin. "This… this smells like Millie. Why is this in your safe?"

He didn't answer. He crossed the room in three long strides, snatching the silk from my hands with enough force to make me stumble back against the desk. He shoved it back into the safe and slammed the door shut, spinning the dial with violent precision.

"You have no right," he snarled, turning on me. His Alpha aura flared, heavy and suffocating, pressing me down. My wolf cowered, confused by the aggression from her own mate.

"No right?" My voice shook, but I forced myself to stand tall. "I am your wife. I am carrying your heir. Why are you keeping tokens of another woman? A woman who hates my family?"

"You are invading my privacy!" Lucas roared, his face inches from mine. "Being Luna does not give you permission to rifle through my personal history! That is from… from a long time ago. Before us."

"It still smells like her," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. "The scent is fresh, Lucas."

"You're paranoid," he spat, backing away and running a hand through his hair. "The pregnancy is making you crazy. You're smelling things that aren't there. Do you have any idea how disrespectful it is to question my honor like this?"

He looked at me with such disdain that I felt small. Dirty. Maybe he was right. Maybe my hormones were messing with my senses. Or maybe I just desperately wanted to believe him because the alternative would break me.

"I… I didn't mean to pry," I said, my voice barely audible. "The door was open…"

"Get out," Lucas said, turning his back to me again. "Just get out, June. I can't even look at you right now."

I fled the room, the phantom scent of vanilla and orchid clinging to my hands, a poisonous reminder that the man I loved was a stranger.

The ballroom was suffocating again, but this time, the air felt thick with something far more sinister than just body heat and perfume. It was my birthday. I should have been happy. I stood near the head table, my hand unconsciously drifting to the cool, smooth surface of the moonstone pendant resting against my collarbone. It was the only piece of my mother I had left, a tether to the woman whose place I was trying so desperately to fill.

"Happy birthday, June," a voice purred from behind me.

I stiffened. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The cloying scent of vanilla and orchid hit me before she even moved into my peripheral vision. Millie Perkins.

I turned slowly, smoothing my hands over my gown. "Millie. I didn't know you were invited."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. She held a glass of dark red wine in one manicured hand. "Oh, your father insisted. He said it was time to let bygones be bygones. We’re practically family, aren’t we?"

My wolf bristled. *Threat,* she growled. *She wants to hurt us.*

"We are nothing alike," I said coldly, turning away to find Lucas. He was across the room, talking to his Beta, refusing to look in my direction.

"Oh, come on, June. Don't be like that," Millie cooed, stepping closer. Too close. "Let's make a toast. To the future."

She lunged forward. It happened in slow motion. Her heel caught on absolutely nothing on the polished floor. She stumbled, her body colliding with mine with surprising force. The wine glass tipped, splashing crimson liquid all over the front of my white silk gown. But she didn't stop there. Her hand shot out, grasping for purchase, and her fingers curled around the delicate silver chain at my neck.

*Snap.*

The sound was like a gunshot in the sudden silence of the room. I gasped as the weight vanished from my throat. The moonstone hit the marble floor with a sickening *crack*, shattering into three jagged pieces.

Silence descended on the ballroom. I stared down at the broken stone, my heart fracturing right along with it. That necklace had survived wars. It had survived my mother's death. It hadn't survived Millie Perkins.

A roar tore from my throat, raw and primal. "You did that on purpose!"

I raised my hand, my claws threatening to extend, ready to wipe that feigned look of shock off her face. Millie shrank back, whimpering theatrically.

"June! Stand down!"

The command slammed into me like a physical wall. My father's Alpha voice. My body froze instantly, my arm locking in mid-air, fighting against the compulsion but failing. My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor, right next to the broken shards of my mother's legacy.

Alpha Hamilton marched over, his face red with anger. Not at Millie. At me.

"Look at you," he spat, glaring down at his pregnant daughter. "Attacking a guest? On your own birthday? You are hysterical."

"She broke Mom's necklace," I choked out, tears burning my eyes. "She did it on purpose, Dad!"

"It was an accident!" Millie cried, dabbing at fake tears. "I tripped! Oh, Alpha Hamilton, I am so sorry."

"Apologize to her," my father commanded, the Alpha tone brooking no argument.

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. "No."

"*Apologize*," he roared, the power of it forcing my head down. "Now!"

"I... I'm sorry," I whispered, the words tasting like ash. Humiliation burned hotter than the wine soaking my dress. I looked up to see Lucas watching from the crowd. He didn't move. He didn't step forward to defend his mate. He just watched, his face an unreadable mask.

***

I couldn't stay in that house. The walls were closing in, the whispers of the pack members crawling over my skin like insects. *Unstable. Emotional. Weak.*

I stripped off the ruined dress and pulled on dark leggings and a hoodie. I needed air. I needed to breathe.

I slipped out the back servants' entrance, heading for the tree line. The cool night air usually calmed my wolf, but tonight she was pacing, agitated and whining. We walked for what felt like hours, circling the perimeter of the pack grounds, until a familiar scent stopped me dead in my tracks.

Pine and rain. Lucas.

He wasn't in our bedroom. He was out here, near the old training grounds. But beneath his scent was that sickly sweet vanilla.

I moved silently, my training on the Northern border taking over. I became a shadow, drifting through the underbrush until I reached the edge of a small clearing. The moon was full, casting a spotlight on the two figures standing near the old oak tree.

Lucas had his back against the bark, and Millie was pressed against him, her hands resting on his chest. My chest constricted, squeezing the air from my lungs.

"I can't take much more of this, Lucas," Millie whispered, her voice carrying in the still night air. "She looked ready to kill me tonight."

"She won't touch you," Lucas murmured, his hand stroking her hair. The tenderness in his touch was a knife to my gut. He never touched me like that anymore. "I won't let her."

"But the bond..." Millie whimpered.

"The bond is a shackle," Lucas hissed, his voice filled with a bitterness that terrified me. "The Moon Goddess made a mistake. You are my Chosen Mate, Millie. You always have been."

I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob. My knees hit the dirt, but I didn't feel the impact.

"Then why are you with her?" Millie asked, tracing the line of his jaw.

"You know why," Lucas sighed, resting his forehead against hers. "The merger. The territory. And... the heir. Once the pup is born and the alliance is cemented, things will be different. She is just a vessel, Millie. A vessel for the legacy we need."

A vessel. That was all I was to him. An incubator for his power.

I didn't stay to hear more. I couldn't. I crawled backward until I was safe to run, and then I sprinted, tears blinding me, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm of betrayal.

***

The next morning, I didn't knock. I slammed the heavy oak doors of my father's study open so hard they bounced off the walls.

"Why is she here?" I demanded, storming into the room. "Why is Millie allowed on our land?"

My father was sitting behind his desk, but he wasn't alone. Sitting in the wingback chair by the window—my mother's favorite chair—was a woman I hadn't seen in years. Adele Perkins.

She looked up from her tea, a serene smile playing on her lips. She looked exactly as I remembered her: beautiful, cold, and utterly venomous.

"Hello, June," Adele said smoothly. "You're looking... flushed."

"Get out of her chair," I snarled.

"June!" My father slammed his hand on the desk. "Show some respect! Adele is my guest."

"Respect?" I laughed, a shrill, broken sound. "She destroyed Mom! She is the reason Mom is dead! And you're drinking tea with her?"

"That is ancient history," my father said dismissively, standing up to pour Adele more tea. "Adele and I... we are reconnecting. She will be spending more time here. I plan to integrate her back into the pack."

"Over my dead body," I whispered, horror washing over me.

"Don't be dramatic," he scoffed, waving a hand at me as if I were a buzzing fly. "You are letting your pregnancy hormones cloud your judgment. You are emotional, June. Unstable. Perhaps it is time you took a step back from your Luna duties until the pup is born. You clearly can't handle the stress."

I looked from my father to the woman who killed my mother, seeing the smug satisfaction in Adele's eyes. I was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

The Pack Gathering was supposed to be my arena. For three years, I had commanded war councils on the northern border, my voice the only thing standing between my pack and annihilation. But as I stood on the raised dais in the community hall, my hand resting protectively over my swollen belly, I felt less like a Luna and more like a ghost haunting her own life.

"The rogue incursions near the eastern ridge have increased by fifteen percent," I said, my voice projecting clearly over the murmurs of the assembled wolves. I pointed to the large map spread across the table. "We need to double the patrols there. Pull two units from the southern perimeter. It's the only way to secure the nursery."

Silence fell. The elders nodded, recognizing the strategy. It was sound. It was necessary.

"Actually," a soft, hesitant voice cut through the air.

Millie Perkins stepped forward from the crowd. She wasn't wearing pack colors, just a simple, pale blue dress that made her look fragile, like a porcelain doll that might shatter if you breathed on it too hard.

"Alpha Lucas," she said, looking up at my mate with wide, innocent eyes. "I know I'm just a civilian, but... doesn't doubling the patrols make us look aggressive? If we want peace, shouldn't we show trust? Maybe open the borders a little? Let the rogues see we aren't enemies?"

A few younger wolves murmured in agreement. It was a naive, dangerous idea that would get us all killed. I opened my mouth to shut it down, to explain the brutality of rogue psychology.

"Millie has a point," Lucas said.

I whipped my head toward him. He was looking at her, not me. His expression was soft, indulgent. "We've been running on a war footing for too long. Perhaps a softer approach is what the pack needs right now. A... civilian perspective."

"Lucas," I hissed, keeping my voice low so the pack wouldn't hear the discord. "That is suicide. They will slaughter us."

He finally looked at me, his eyes cold and dismissive. "You're thinking like a soldier, June. Not a Luna. We will implement Millie's suggestion. Patrols remain as they are."

Humiliation burned my cheeks. He had just publicly chosen the advice of his mistress over the tactical expertise of his wife. I looked at Beta Thomas, Lucas's second-in-command. He shifted on his feet, refusing to meet my eyes, his jaw clenched tight. He knew this was wrong. But he said nothing.

The meeting disbanded, the wolves filing out with whispers that felt like claws raking down my back. I lingered, pretending to organize papers, needing a moment to compose myself.

Lucas and his Gamma, a brute named Silas, stood near the exit. They didn't see me in the shadows of the heavy curtains.

"She's becoming a problem, Alpha," Silas grunted. "Undermining you in front of the pack."

"Patience," Lucas's voice drifted back to me, casual and cruel. "Once the pup is born and weaned... we can deal with the June problem permanently. Maybe the northern border needs a commander again. A permanent one."

The air left my lungs. He wasn't just cheating on me. He was planning to exile me. To steal my child and cast me out to the frozen wasteland I had fought so hard to leave.

***

The next morning, I went to the training grounds. I needed to hit something. I needed to feel strong again, to remind my wolf that we were warriors, not victims. Despite the heaviness of my pregnancy, I moved through the katas, the familiar burn of my muscles grounding me.

"Mind if I join?"

Millie stood at the edge of the mat, wearing pristine, expensive workout gear that looked like it had never seen a drop of sweat.

"I'm busy," I grunted, throwing a jab at the punching bag.

"Lucas said I should learn self-defense," she persisted, stepping onto the mat. "Since the borders are 'so dangerous,' according to you."

My wolf growled. *Bait,* she warned. *Do not bite.*

"Fine," I said, wiping sweat from my forehead. "Basic stance. Keep your guard up."

I moved to correct her posture. I barely touched her elbow to lift her arm.

Suddenly, Millie shrieked.

She threw herself backward with the force of a cannonball, crashing onto the mats and curling into a ball, clutching her stomach. "My ribs! Oh goddess, my ribs!"

"What?" I stared at my hands. "I didn't even—"

"Help!" she screamed, her voice piercing the morning air. "The Luna! She's crushing me with her aura!"

Wolves came running from every direction. Lucas was there in seconds, his face a mask of thunderous rage. He dropped to his knees beside Millie, who was sobbing theatrically.

"She attacked me!" Millie wailed, burying her face in Lucas's chest. "I just wanted to learn! She's jealous, Lucas! She tried to kill me!"

"I didn't touch her!" I yelled, panic rising in my throat. "Lucas, look at me! I barely touched her elbow!"

The pack doctor, a man named Dr. Thorne who I knew owed gambling debts to my father, rushed over. He placed a glowing hand on Millie's side and gasped. "Internal bruising, Alpha. Severe. It's consistent with an Alpha command crushing the organs."

It was a lie. A blatant, impossible lie.

Lucas stood up slowly. The look he gave me wasn't just anger anymore. It was hatred.

"You are out of control," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "You attack a guest? A weaker wolf? You are a disgrace to your rank."

"Lucas, please," I begged, my hands trembling. "It's a setup. Can't you see—"

"Enough!" His roar silenced the entire training ground. "Beta Thomas! Escort June to the guest quarters on the lower level. Revoke her clearance. She is barred from the Alpha floor and the strategy room until further notice."

"You can't do that," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "I am the Luna."

"Not right now," Lucas spat. "Right now, you are a liability."

Thomas stepped forward, his face pale. "June... please. Don't make him hurt you."

I let him lead me away. As I walked past the whispering pack members, I heard the words that Adele and Millie had planted taking root.

*"She's crazy."*

*"Jealous."*

*"Unfit mother."*

The heavy door of the guest room clicked shut, the lock engaging with a finality that sounded like a prison sentence. I sank to the floor, wrapping my arms around my belly. They had taken my voice. They had taken my rank. Now, they were coming for my child.