The dining room chandelier cast warm light over the mahogany table, making everything look deceptively cozy. I sat between Xander and Elder Councilman Roderick Vale, my hands folded in my lap, the herbal paste still burning faintly against my pulse points. Across from me, Selah poured wine with practiced grace, her smile never quite reaching her eyes.

Giana held court at the head of the table, discussing the surgery schedule with the three Pack Elders as if my kidney were a business transaction. Which, I supposed, it was.

"Luna Adelina's sacrifice will secure the Cooper legacy for generations," Elder Vale said, raising his glass.

I let my vision blur slightly. Swayed in my chair.

"Adelina?" Xander's hand shot out to steady me, his touch cold despite the mate bond. "Are you—"

I slumped forward, catching myself on the table edge. The wine glasses rattled.

"For Moon Goddess's sake." Giana's voice cut through the sudden concern. "Can't you even sit through dinner without being weak?"

That's when I released it. The altered scent I'd been holding back, letting it roll off my skin in waves. Milky. Sweet. Unmistakable.

Elder Vale's nostrils flared. His eyes went wide. "Is that—"

"I'm sorry." I pressed my hand to my stomach, letting my voice shake. "I didn't want to say anything until I was certain, but I've been feeling strange for weeks now. This morning, I finally took a test."

The silence was absolute.

"You're pregnant?" Elder Margaret leaned forward, her weathered face suddenly alight. "With the Alpha heir?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. Across the table, Selah's hand had frozen mid-pour, wine splashing over the rim of the glass. Her face had gone white.

Xander's fingers tightened on my shoulder. Through the mate bond, I felt his panic spike before he crushed it down. "That's... wonderful news."

He sounded like he was choking.

"The Law of the Unborn," Elder Vale breathed. "Moon Goddess be praised. A pregnant female cannot be rejected or exiled under any circumstances."

Giana's fork clattered against her plate. "How far along?"

"Six weeks, I think." I kept my eyes downcast, the picture of shy uncertainty. "I wasn't sure if I should say anything before the surgery, but—"

"The surgery." Elder Margaret stood abruptly. "We must ensure the pup's safety. Luna Adelina, you cannot undergo such a procedure without proper protections in place."

"I'll be fine." I made my voice small. "Xander needs—"

"The heir comes first," Elder Vale interrupted. "Always. This changes everything."

I watched Xander and Selah through my lashes. He'd gone rigid, his Alpha mask firmly in place, but his jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping. Selah had set down the wine bottle and pressed both hands flat against the table, her knuckles white.

They couldn't reject me now. Couldn't cast me out. The Law of the Unborn was absolute, written in blood and magic centuries ago. To harm a pregnant female was to invite the Moon Goddess's wrath upon the entire pack.

I'd just made myself untouchable.

"We should celebrate," Giana said finally, her voice brittle. "This is... unexpected, but welcome news."

Liar. I could smell her fury beneath the false joy, sharp and acrid.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of congratulations and planning. The Elders insisted on additional medical precautions. Elder Margaret wanted to consult with the pack's healer about pregnancy-safe anesthesia. Elder Vale began discussing nursery arrangements.

Through it all, I played my part. Grateful. Overwhelmed. A little scared.

When Selah finally left the room, I caught the scent of her tears.

Good.

After the Elders departed, Xander requested a private meeting in his study. Giana followed without being asked, her heels clicking against the hardwood like a countdown.

The study door closed with a soft click. Xander moved to the window, his back to me. Giana stood by the fireplace, her expression carved from ice.

"Six weeks," Xander said quietly. "You're sure?"

"Yes." I wrapped my arms around myself. "I know the timing is terrible, but—"

"The timing is convenient." Giana's eyes were cold. "Remarkably so."

I let my chin tremble. "I don't understand."

"Don't you?" She took a step toward me. "Right before the surgery, you suddenly discover you're carrying the heir?"

"I'm scared." I didn't have to fake the emotion in my voice. Fear was easy. I'd lived with it for eight years. "What if something goes wrong? What if the surgery hurts the baby? What if I die on the table and our child grows up without a mother?"

Xander turned. His face was haggard, his aura barely a whisper. "Nothing will go wrong."

"You can't promise that." I moved closer, letting desperation creep into my tone. "I need to know that if something happens to me, our baby will be protected. That he'll inherit what's rightfully his."

"He will," Xander said. "You have my word."

"Words aren't enough." I met his eyes. "I want a Blood Oath. Transfer the Pack House deed and Silver Creek territory to my name. I'll hold it in trust for our child. If I survive the surgery, you can have it all back. But if I don't..."

I let the sentence hang.

Giana laughed, sharp and ugly. "You want us to sign over our most valuable assets because you're suddenly pregnant?"

"I want to protect my baby." I turned to her. "Surely you understand that. You're a mother."

The barb hit home. Her face tightened.

"It's reasonable," Xander said slowly. He was calculating, I could see it. Thinking he could kill me later, annul the contract, take it all back once he was healthy. "If it gives you peace of mind."

"I want my grandmother to be the magical guarantor," I added. "Elder Estrella Martinez. She's respected. Powerful. If she binds the oath, everyone will know it's legitimate."

Xander and Giana exchanged glances. I could almost hear their thoughts: Estrella would never side with an Omega over her own daughter. She'd find a way to break the contract if needed.

They had no idea I was counting on exactly that assumption.

"Fine," Xander said. "We'll draw up the papers tomorrow."

I nodded, pressing my hand to my stomach. "Thank you. I just want our baby to be safe."

As I left the study, I felt their eyes on my back. Suspicious. Calculating. Trapped.

Sera purred in my mind. *Phase two complete.*

Now I just had to convince my grandmother to seal her own fate.

The pack garden smelled like jasmine and rot. I was deadheading roses when Selah found me, her vanilla scent cutting through the morning air like a blade.

"We need to talk."

I didn't look up. Just kept snipping brown petals, letting them fall into my basket. "About what?"

"Don't play stupid." Her voice was low, vicious. "That baby. It's not real."

My hands stilled on the shears. I turned slowly, meeting her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Xander hasn't touched you in months." She stepped closer, her Beta aura pressing against me. "I know because—"

She stopped. Caught herself.

"Because what?" I tilted my head, all innocent confusion. "Because you've been watching us so closely? That's a little obsessive, Selah."

Her jaw clenched. "You're lying about being pregnant."

"Am I?" I set down the shears and brushed dirt from my hands. "That's funny. I remember a very specific night after the pack run last month. Xander came to our room smelling like pine smoke and whiskey. He was... enthusiastic."

I watched her face carefully. That night, Xander had been with her. I'd smelled her scent on him when he finally stumbled home at dawn. But she couldn't admit that without exposing everything.

"You're lying," she repeated, but her voice wavered.

"Why would I lie?" I moved closer, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Between you and me, I think Xander's getting bored with his side flings. He told me he missed the real thing. The mate bond. Said casual encounters were starting to feel... empty."

The color drained from her face.

"But maybe I'm wrong." I shrugged, picking up my basket. "Maybe he's still interested in whoever he's been sneaking around with. Though I doubt it. He's been so attentive lately."

Selah's hands were shaking. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" I smiled, sweet as poison. "Anyway, I should get back to the house. The baby makes me tired, and I need to rest before the surgery."

I walked past her, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. Her scent was sour with fear and doubt.

Good.

Let her wonder. Let her question everything Xander had promised her. Let the insecurity eat her alive from the inside.

That night, I sat in Xander's office with his laptop open in front of me. The access codes had been easy—he'd given them to me weeks ago for "hospital billing purposes." As if I were too simple to handle anything more complicated.

The financial records loaded slowly. Years of transactions, carefully hidden in subfolders within subfolders. But I'd always been good with numbers. Good at finding patterns.

There. A transfer of fifty thousand dollars to an offshore account. Another hundred thousand three months later. Payments to luxury hotels. Private gambling clubs. Wire transfers to my grandmother's personal account.

I downloaded everything onto an encrypted drive, my heart steady despite what I was seeing. Xander and Giana had been bleeding the pack treasury dry for years. Funding Giana's gambling addiction. Paying for Estrella's expensive lifestyle. All while the pack struggled with basic maintenance and security.

I compiled it into a neat dossier. Added timestamps. Cross-referenced pack financial reports that showed false numbers. Made it impossible to deny.

Then I created an anonymous email account and sent it to the Lycan Council's auditor with a simple subject line: "Gross Misappropriation of Pack Treasury - Moonshadow Pack."

I hit send and closed the laptop.

Sera hummed with satisfaction. *Now we wait.*

Two days before the surgery, they came.

Lycan Council enforcers in black uniforms, their authority absolute. I was arranging flowers in the entry hall when they arrived, their boots heavy on the marble floor.

"We're here to see Alpha Xander Cooper," the lead enforcer said.

Giana appeared at the top of the stairs, her face pale. "What is this about?"

"Financial investigation. All Cooper family assets are frozen pending audit."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Giana's scream could probably be heard in the next territory. "Xander! Fix this! Do something!"

But Xander was too weak to do anything. He lay in bed upstairs, his skin gray, his aura barely a flicker. The enforcers served their papers and left, and Giana stood in the foyer, shaking with rage and terror.

"How will we pay for anything?" she hissed. "The surgery. The staff. The—"

"I have some savings," I said quietly.

They all turned to look at me.

"It's not much." I twisted my hands together. "But it's enough to keep the lights on. Pay the essential staff. I can transfer it to the pack account."

Elder Vale, who'd arrived to check on the situation, looked at me with something like respect. "Luna Adelina, that's very generous."

"It's my duty," I said simply. "To the pack. To my mate. To our child."

Giana's face twisted, but she couldn't refuse. Not with the Elders watching.

I was saving them. Again.

And they hated me for it.

Xander's bedroom smelled like sickness and dying things. I sat beside his bed with a bowl of soup, watching his chest rise and fall in shallow breaths. His once-commanding presence had withered to almost nothing.

"Adelina," he whispered.

"I'm here." I lifted a spoonful of broth to his lips. The soup was laced with valerian root and chamomile—mild sedatives that would keep him foggy and compliant. "You need to eat."

He swallowed obediently. His eyes were glassy, unfocused.

"The baby," he murmured. "Our son."

"He's fine." I stroked his hair, the gesture automatic after eight years. "Strong. Just like his father."

"Good." His eyes drifted closed. "That's good."

I fed him another spoonful. And another. Keeping him weak. Keeping him dependent. Making sure no one else got close enough to notice that my scent was all herbs and lies.

"Everything will be better after the surgery," I whispered. "You'll be strong again. We'll raise our son together. The pack will thrive."

Lies. All lies.

But he believed them. I could see it in his face, the desperate hope of a dying man clinging to false promises.

"I love you," he breathed.

I didn't answer. Just kept feeding him soup, watching his aura flicker like a candle in the wind.

One more day until the surgery.

One more day until everything burned.