I sat on the edge of the narrow bed in my guest room, staring at my hands. They were steady, but inside, everything was shaking. The mate bond pulsed with each heartbeat, a constant reminder of what I'd lost—what had been taken from me. Three years of sacrifice, of building alliances, of healing rogues who would one day become pack assets... all for him. For us. And this was how it ended.

Sable stirred within me, her anger a low, rumbling presence. *We won't be erased quietly,* she growled.

*No,* I agreed, pressing my thumb against my wrist to ground myself. *We won't.*

I closed my eyes and reached for the pack's mind-link network—that sacred, intimate connection that bound us all together. As Luna-in-waiting, I still had access, even if Tru thought he'd stripped me of everything else.

With deliberate calm, I crafted my message. No accusations, no hysteria. Just the truth, wrapped in perfect politeness.

*'Pack of Black Moon,* I began, my mental voice clear and steady, *'I, Elliot Parker, wish to extend a formal welcome to Ila Ford, who appears to have found comfort in the Luna suite during my absence. May she find all the happiness there that I once did.'*

I released the link and waited. One breath. Two. Then the network erupted.

Shock rippled through the pack bonds like a stone dropped in still water. I could feel the whispers blooming, the questions forming. *The Luna suite? With the Alpha? But what about Elliot?*

My phone buzzed with messages. I ignored them all, but I could imagine what they said. The pack was talking, and that was exactly what I wanted.

I was still sitting there, a small, satisfied smile playing on my lips, when my door burst open. Tru stood there, his face contorted with rage.

'What the hell do you think you're doing?' he snarled, his Alpha aura flaring.

I met his gaze steadily. 'Welcoming your pregnant Omega to her new home. Isn't that what you wanted?'

His eyes narrowed dangerously. 'You think you're clever, don't you? Making trouble the moment you return.'

'I'm simply being a good Luna,' I replied softly. 'Though it seems I'm the only one who remembers what that means.'

Tru's jaw clenched. 'We'll see about that. I've organized a Welcome Run for tonight. Followed by a pack dinner. You will attend, and you will behave.'

'Of course,' I said, my voice honey-sweet. 'I wouldn't miss it.'

He stalked away, and I knew the real battle was just beginning.

Hours later, I stood at the edge of the gathering clearing as the pack assembled for the run. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of amber and blood. I wore a simple black dress—understated, elegant, nothing like the garish display Ila had made of my things.

Tru took his place at the head of the gathering, Ila at his side. She wore a flowing white dress that seemed designed to emphasize a pregnancy that, to my healer's eyes, looked suspiciously flat. Her hand rested possessively on his arm as she looked out at the pack with a triumphant smile.

'I've asked Ila to organize tonight's celebration,' Tru announced, his voice carrying across the clearing. 'She's put together something special to welcome Elliot back to the pack.'

The emphasis on 'welcome' was subtle but unmistakable. This wasn't a celebration—it was a setup.

As if on cue, Ila stepped forward, her voice sweet and cloying. 'I hope everyone enjoys the evening I've planned. It's so important we all come together as one family.'

The run itself was mercifully brief. I kept to the edges, watching as Ila stayed close to Tru, playing the role of the fragile, pregnant mate-to-be. I marked how some pack members avoided looking at me, while others cast curious, assessing glances my way.

Afterward, we gathered in the great hall for dinner. Long tables had been arranged in a U-shape, with the head table raised slightly above the rest. Tru took his place at the center, and I watched with cold amusement as Ila automatically moved to sit at his right—the Luna's chair.

'Elliot,' Tru called, his voice carrying just enough Alpha command to make it an order, 'you'll sit there.'

He pointed to a place at the far end of the hall, among the unranked wolves—the lowest position at the table. A deliberate insult.

I walked the length of the hall, feeling every eye on me. As I passed Dania Edwards, she leaned toward her companion, loud enough for me to hear: 'Three years away, and she comes back a failure. No wonder he replaced her.'

I took my seat with perfect grace, my face a mask of calm. Inside, Sable was snarling, but I kept her contained. This dinner wasn't about surviving humiliation—it was about gathering intelligence. And as I watched the pack's shifting loyalties play out across the room, I realized just how much I had to work with.

Morning light filtered through the infirmary windows as I pushed open the familiar wooden door. The scent of antiseptic and healing herbs greeted me like old friends, a welcome relief after last night's calculated humiliation at the Welcome Run. This place, at least, couldn't be taken from me. I'd built the Black Moon Pack's medical program from the ground up, training healers and establishing protocols that had saved countless lives over the years. My fingers trailed over the neatly organized shelves—my organization, my system, my legacy.

Sable stirred within me, her presence a comforting warmth. *They can't erase what we've built here.*

'Elliot.'

I turned to find Maren Cole standing in the doorway, her silver-streaked hair pulled back in a practical bun. The senior healer's eyes held a mixture of relief and something else—caution. She closed the door quietly behind her.

'It's good to have you back,' she said, her voice deliberately low. 'Though I imagine you've noticed some... changes.'

I met her gaze steadily. 'I've noticed.'

Maren glanced toward the door, then moved closer. 'The supplies,' she whispered. 'All the medical equipment and funding you arranged during your time with the rogue rehabilitation programs. It's all gone.'

'Gone?' I repeated, though I already knew the answer.

'Rerouted,' Maren confirmed, her voice tight with anger. 'Ila and the Alpha have been using your resources for her so-called healing rituals. Vague treatments, undocumented procedures. Nothing that can be verified.'

My thumb pressed against my wrist, grounding me as the betrayal sank deeper. Three years of negotiations, of building relationships with suppliers, of securing funding that would have transformed our pack's medical capabilities—all diverted to cover Ila's lies.

'How long?' I asked, my voice steady despite the storm building inside me.

'Since you left,' Maren admitted. 'They started small, but it's grown. The records are... creative.'

I nodded, filing away this information. Evidence. Proof. The first pieces of what would become my counterattack.

'Thank you, Maren,' I said simply. 'For remembering what loyalty means.'

She squeezed my hand briefly before stepping back. 'Some of us never forgot.'

Later that afternoon, I found myself in the pack gardens, seeking a moment of peace among the wildflowers. The path wound between tall hedges, creating a maze of quiet corners where I could breathe without feeling the weight of curious stares.

I was examining a particularly vibrant patch of moonflowers when a familiar scent drifted on the breeze. Sweet, cloying, and entirely false.

'Elliot.'

Ila stood a few feet away, her white dress fluttering in the breeze. She looked every bit the innocent victim she was pretending to be, one hand resting protectively over her supposedly pregnant belly.

'Taking in some fresh air?' I asked pleasantly, as if we were merely acquaintances passing in a hallway.

'It's important for the baby,' she replied, her voice honey-sweet. 'The doctor says I need to stay active.'

I nodded, stepping closer under the pretense of examining a nearby bloom. As I leaned past her, I inhaled deeply, my enhanced werewolf senses capturing every nuance of her scent.

There it was—or rather, there it wasn't. The distinct hormonal markers of pregnancy were completely absent. Instead, I detected only the musky scent of a normal Omega, mixed with something else. A faint, unfamiliar note that didn't belong to anyone in our pack.

Rogue.

My eyes narrowed slightly as I processed this new information. Not only was Ila's pregnancy a lie, but she was also involved with someone outside the pack. Someone who left their scent on her skin.

'How wonderful,' I said, stepping back with a smile that didn't reach my eyes. 'You're positively glowing.'

Ila preened at the compliment, completely missing the calculation behind my words. She had no idea that with just one breath, I'd uncovered the first thread in the web of lies she and Tru had spun.

As I walked away, Sable's satisfaction rumbled through me. *The hunt has begun.*