The guest quarters were cold, stripped of the warmth that usually permeated the pack house. For three days, I had been locked in this glorified cell, my meals brought by a trembling Omega who wouldn't meet my eyes. But it wasn't the isolation that terrified me. It was the weakness.

My limbs felt heavy, like I was wading through mud. My wolf, usually a fierce presence in my mind, was silent, curled into a tight ball of distress. I sat on the edge of the stiff mattress, staring at the cup of jasmine tea the Omega had left an hour ago. It was my favorite blend—a small kindness, or so I had thought.

I lifted the cup, the steam carrying that familiar floral scent. But beneath the jasmine, there was something else. A sharp, metallic tang that made my nose wrinkle. It was faint, almost imperceptible to a human, but to a wolf trained to hunt in the northern wastes, it was a warning bell.

*Wolfsbane.*

My hand shook, splashing hot liquid onto my wrist. Wolfsbane was poison to our kind. In large doses, it killed. In small, controlled doses... it weakened the wolf spirit. It caused forced submission. And in pregnant she-wolves, it detached the placenta.

They weren't just trying to silence me. They were trying to kill my baby.

Rage, hot and blinding, surged through my veins, momentarily burning away the lethargy. I poured the tea into a small glass vial I kept in my travel bag—a habit from my patrol days—and hid it in my pocket. I needed confirmation.

When the Omega returned for the tray, I feigned sleep, slipping out the door the moment the lock clicked shut but didn't fully engage. I knew the security codes; I wrote half of them.

I didn't go to Dr. Thorne. He was in my father's pocket. Instead, I crept through the shadows to the edge of the territory, to a small shack where Old Martha, the pack's retired herbalist, lived. She was blind, but her nose was sharper than any Alpha's.

"Martha," I whispered, stepping into the herb-scented gloom.

She didn't startle. "June. You smell like fear and iron."

I placed the vial in her gnarled hand. "Tell me what this is."

Martha uncorked it, taking a shallow sniff. She recoiled instantly, her face twisting in horror. "Jasmine. Honey. And *Aconitum lycoctonum*. Wolfsbane, child. Enough to force a miscarriage by sunrise if you drank the whole cup."

The world tilted. It wasn't just neglect. It wasn't just an affair. It was murder.

"Thank you, Martha," I choked out, taking the vial back. "Stay inside tonight."

I didn't sneak back to my room. I walked straight to the main house. It was dusk, and the pack was gathering for the evening meal. Lucas would be there. My father would be there. And Millie.

I burst through the double doors of the dining hall. The chatter died instantly. Lucas sat at the head of the table, Millie to his right in the seat that should have been mine. She was laughing at something he said, her hand resting possessively on his forearm.

"June?" Lucas stood up, his expression darkening. "You are confined to your quarters."

"I'm sure you'd prefer that," I said, my voice ringing clear and cold across the silent hall. I marched forward, the vial clutched in my hand like a grenade. "It makes it easier to poison me."

Gasps rippled through the room. Millie's eyes went wide, her scent spiking with sudden, acrid panic.

"What are you talking about?" Lucas growled, stepping around the table. "You're hysterical again."

"Am I?" I uncorked the vial and splashed the tea onto the polished floor at his feet. The liquid hissed as it hit the wood, the Wolfsbane reacting with the treated timber. The scent of burnt sugar and poison filled the air. "Old Martha confirmed it. Wolfsbane. In my tea. In the cup *she* ordered for me."

I pointed a shaking finger at Millie. She shrank back, clutching her pearls. "Lucas! She's crazy! I would never!"

Lucas looked at the sizzling puddle, then at me. For a second, I saw hesitation. Then he looked at Millie—at her tear-filled eyes, her trembling lower lip—and his face hardened into stone.

"Millie is gentle," Lucas said, his voice flat. "She doesn't have a violent bone in her body. Unlike you, June."

My heart shattered. "Lucas... it's poison. It will kill your son."

"Maybe it's for the best," he said softly, so only I could hear. "You are too hard, June. You are a warrior, a killer. You aren't fit to be a mother. Millie... she is soft. She is what a Luna should be."

He raised his voice, addressing the pack. "June is unwell. She is hallucinating. Until she recovers, Millie Perkins will act as Luna for the upcoming Summit."

It wasn't a formal rejection, but it was a death sentence. He had chosen his mistress over his mate and his unborn child. He would let them poison me slowly, claiming I was sick, until I was gone.

I stared at him, memorizing the face of the man who had just signed my execution order. "You will regret this," I whispered. "When the moon rises on your empty life, you will regret this."

I turned and walked out. No one stopped me. They thought I was broken. They were wrong.

***

Midnight. The witching hour. I was packing a go-bag in the dark when the door handle turned. I grabbed a letter opener, my only weapon, and spun around.

Beta Thomas stood there, his face pale in the moonlight. He held a set of car keys.

"Thomas?" I lowered the blade.

"I can't do this, June," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I saw the tea. I smelled it too. He's... he's lost his mind."

He tossed me the keys. "Take the black SUV around back. I disabled the perimeter alarms on the south gate. You have ten minutes before the system reboots."

"Come with me," I urged, grabbing his arm. "He'll know it was you."

"Someone has to delay them," Thomas said grimly. "Go. Save the pup."

I didn't waste time with goodbyes. I ran. My body was heavy, the residual poison still dragging at my limbs, but fear gave me wings. I threw my bag into the passenger seat and tore out of the garage, keeping the headlights off until I hit the tree line.

As I sped toward the southern border, a sharp pain cramped my lower abdomen. Not the dull ache of the poison, but a tightening, squeezing pressure.

*Contractions.*

"No, no, no," I gasped, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. "Not yet. It's too soon. Stay in there, little one. Please."

I floored the accelerator, the engine roaring as I crossed the boundary line. Behind me, the alarms of the Hunter Moon Pack began to wail, piercing the night. They were coming. But I was already gone, driving into the darkness toward the only sanctuary left—the neutral lands.

The speedometer was buried past ninety, the engine of the stolen SUV screaming in protest as I tore down the winding forest road. My hands were slick with sweat on the leather wheel, my knuckles white. Every bump in the asphalt sent a fresh wave of agony radiating from my lower back to my core.

*Not yet,* I pleaded silently, one hand leaving the wheel to clutch my swollen belly. *Please, little one. Just hold on.*

My wolf was pacing in the back of my mind, a frantic, caged animal. She could hear what I couldn't yet—the distant, thunderous rhythm of paws hitting the earth.

*They're coming,* she whimpered. *Lucas sent the elites.*

Of course he did. He wouldn't risk losing his precious heir, even if it meant dragging the mother back by her hair. He’d probably told them I was hysterical, a rogue kidnapping his child. The injustice of it burned hotter than the contractions seizing my muscles.

A sudden, deafening *crack* shattered the night.

The SUV lurched violently to the right. The steering wheel was ripped from my grip as the front tire exploded, shredded by a high-caliber bullet. The world spun. Metal screamed against asphalt, sparks flying past the window like angry fireflies. I slammed onto the shoulder, the vehicle skidding into the ditch with a bone-jarring crunch.

Silence followed, broken only by the hiss of the radiator and my own ragged breathing.

I kicked the door open, stumbling out into the cool night air. The sanctuary—Dr. Rivers’ clinic—was less than a mile away through the dense woods. I could see its faint lights through the trees.

"There she is!" A voice shouted from the road above.

I didn't look back. I ran.

Pain tore through me with every step, my heavy body clumsy and slow. I could hear them crashing through the underbrush behind me—five, maybe six of them. Lucas’s best trackers.

*Shift,* my wolf urged. *It's the only way.*

"I can't," I gasped, stumbling over a root. "The baby..."

*Shift or we lose him!*

I let go. Bones snapped and reshaped, fur bursting through skin in a rush of agony that nearly made me black out. I landed on four paws, my silver-grey coat bristling. The weight of the pup was heavy, pulling at my center of gravity, but I was faster now.

I pushed my body to its limit, dodging trees and leaping over fallen logs, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The lights of the clinic grew closer. I could smell the antiseptic and herbs—safety.

I burst into the clearing just as a heavy weight slammed into my flank.

A massive brown wolf pinned me to the ground, his jaws snapping inches from my throat. I snarled, slashing at his muzzle with my claws, desperate to protect my belly. I rolled, scrambling back to my human form as I hit the gravel driveway of the clinic.

"Get off her!" Dr. Rivers’ voice rang out. The door to the clinic flew open, light spilling onto the chaotic scene.

I lay gasping in the dirt, clutching my stomach. The brown wolf shifted, reforming into Mark, Lucas’s head tracker. He stood over me, naked and sneering, a syringe glinting in his hand.

"Stand down, Doctor," Mark growled, not even bothering to cover himself. "Alpha's orders. She's unstable. We're taking her home."

"She's in labor!" Dr. Rivers screamed, rushing forward, but another tracker blocked her path. "You can't move her! You'll kill the pup!"

"Alpha said bring them back," Mark said coldly, uncapping the needle with his teeth. He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. "This will just knock her out. Make the trip quiet."

"No!" I screamed, thrashing against him. "It’s wolfsbane! It’ll kill him!"

Mark ignored me, positioning the needle over the vein in my neck. I looked up at the moon, tears blurring my vision. *I’m sorry,* I whispered to the life inside me. *I tried.*

The needle tip pricked my skin.

And then the world stopped.

A growl erupted from the edge of the forest—a sound so deep, so primal, it vibrated in the marrow of my bones. It wasn't just a wolf; it was something ancient. Something royal.

Mark froze. The color drained from his face.

From the shadows, a figure emerged. He was tall, his shoulders broad enough to block out the moonlight. His eyes glowed a terrifying, molten gold.

Alpha King Javier Castro.

The air pressure dropped instantly. His aura slammed into the clearing like a physical hammer.

Mark dropped the syringe. He collapsed to his knees, retching, his forehead pressing into the gravel as the sheer weight of the King’s dominance crushed him. The other trackers fell with him, whining like kicked puppies.

Javier didn't even look at them. He walked straight to me, his movements fluid and predatory. He knelt in the dirt, his expensive suit ruining in the mud, and scooped me into his arms as if I weighed nothing.

A jolt of electricity sparked where his skin touched mine—warm, grounding, safe.

He looked down at me, his golden eyes scanning my face, then drifting to my swollen belly. His nostrils flared, inhaling my scent, and his expression softened from rage to something akin to awe.

"The pup is strong," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that soothed the panic in my chest. "And his mother is a warrior."

"They... they want to take him," I choked out, gripping his lapel.

Javier stood up, holding me tight against his chest. He turned to the groveling trackers, his face hardening into a mask of lethal fury.

"Go back to your Alpha," Javier commanded. His voice wasn't loud, but it echoed inside my head, a mental command that made my wolf bow in respect. "Tell Lucas Hunter that he has forfeited his right to this family."

He stepped over Mark’s trembling form.

"This she-wolf and her pup are under the protection of the Lycan King," Javier declared, his gaze burning into the trackers. "If you touch a hair on her head, if you even *look* in her direction again... I will burn your entire pack to ash and salt the earth where it stood."

He turned his back on them, carrying me toward the clinic door where a stunned Dr. Rivers held it open. As we crossed the threshold, I let my head fall against his shoulder, the scent of sandalwood and storm clouds finally letting me breathe.

For the first time in months, I wasn't just a vessel. I was safe.