The night air carried the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine as I walked alone through the Moon Garden. My footsteps crunched softly on the gravel path, each sound echoing in the midnight silence. Ten years. Ten years since I'd buried my pup beneath these silver moonflowers that bloomed only in darkness.

I traced my fingers over the marble statue of Mael—my beautiful boy, forever frozen in playful innocence. The moonlight caught the polished stone, making it seem almost alive.

"Hello, my little wolf," I whispered, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. "Mother's here."

The silence that answered me felt heavier than usual. For the first time in a decade, Kane wasn't here. We always came together on this night—to remember, to grieve, to hold each other in the darkness that never quite healed.

"He'll come," I told the statue, straightening the small silver pendant I'd placed around its neck. "He's just... delayed."

But as the minutes stretched into an hour, the empty space beside me remained empty. No familiar scent of pine and winter frost. No warm hand on my shoulder. Just me and the moon and my dead pup's memorial.

I rose to my feet, a strange hollowness expanding in my chest. Something was wrong. Kane had never missed this night—not once in ten years.

"That's odd," I murmured, noticing something I'd overlooked in my grief.

Small wooden stakes had been driven into the flowerbeds—construction markers with red paint. They formed a perfect rectangle around the garden's edge, right through the beds where Kane and I had planted moonflowers together, one for each month of Mael's short life.

My fingers closed around one of the stakes, yanking it free from the earth. Fresh soil clung to its base. These hadn't been here yesterday.

"What is this?" I whispered, my Alpha senses suddenly alert.

No one would dare authorize construction in the Moon Garden without my knowledge. No one would dare touch this sacred ground.

I followed the scent trail—not Kane's, but something else. Something that smelled of power tools and paper plans. It led me away from the garden, toward the west wing of the pack house.

The corridor was silent as I moved through it, my footsteps barely audible against the plush carpet. I tracked the scent to a door I rarely used—a guest suite in the farthest corner of the wing.

Voices drifted through the heavy oak door. One of them made my blood freeze.

"The old bitch actually thinks I'll show up tonight," Kane's voice, dripping with mockery. "As if I'd waste another minute pretending to care about that depressing garden."

My hand flew to my mouth, stifling the gasp that threatened to escape. I pressed closer to the door, my enhanced hearing picking up every word.

"It's so morbid, Kane," a female voice replied—young, breathy. Jemma Ellis. The little Omega influencer who'd been circling our pack like a vulture in designer clothes. "All those dead flowers and that creepy statue."

"They'll be gone soon enough," Kane replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "I've already got the permits to bulldoze it. The Aviary will be magnificent—all glass and light, just like you deserve."

"When?" Jemma's voice was eager, excited.

"Right after the Spring Solstice. Right after I reject her." Kane's voice dropped lower, but I heard every word. "The look on her face when I mark you instead... it'll be worth every moment I've spent pretending to care about her pathetic mourning."

I stumbled back from the door, my legs suddenly unsteady. The hallway tilted around me as Jemma's delighted laughter echoed through the wood.

I didn't burst into the room. I didn't tear out their throats as my wolf demanded. Instead, I walked away—each step measured, each breath controlled.

My office was dark when I entered, but I didn't turn on the lights. Instead, I went straight to my desk and opened the bottom drawer—the one that never opened.

My fingers closed around the small silver handle, cool metal against my palm. Inside lay Mael's baby clothes, his favorite stuffed wolf, the tiny shoes he'd never outgrown.

I didn't pull it open. Not today. Today was for something else.

"Shadow," I called softly into the darkness.

A figure materialized from the corner—one of my elite spies, invisible until summoned.

"Alpha," they replied, voice neutral.

"Begin surveillance on Beta Kane," I ordered, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "Document every meeting, every call, every movement. No intervention—just observation."

"Immediately, Alpha."

"And Shadow? Only those in my inner circle. No one else is to know."

They melted back into the shadows, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the silver glow of my Alpha aura—now hardened into something colder, sharper.

Kane thought he could destroy what we'd built. He thought he could replace me, erase our son's memory, and walk away unscathed.

He was about to learn how wrong he was.

The drawer handle felt warm now under my palm—warmer than it should have been. Almost alive.

Almost hungry.

The pack luncheon was a sea of designer dresses and practiced smiles. I watched from my position at the head table as Jemma Ellis fluttered from group to group, her laughter too loud, her gestures too grand. She was trying so hard to belong.

"Alpha Hudson," Elder Blackwood nodded respectfully as she took the seat beside me. "The salmon is excellent today."

"Enjoy it while you can," I replied, my voice low enough that only she could hear. "Things are about to change."

Her eyes flickered with curiosity, but she asked no questions. Elena Blackwood had survived decades in pack politics by knowing when to stay silent.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket—a message from Shadow confirming the dossier had been placed exactly where I'd instructed. The maître d' would be finding it any moment now.

"Excuse me," I said, rising gracefully. "I need to attend to some pack business."

I moved through the crowd with practiced ease, nodding at council members, pausing to exchange pleasantries with the Beta's wife. All the while, I tracked Jemma's movements from the corner of my eye.

She was hovering near the refreshment table, her hand resting possessively on Kane's arm as she giggled at something he said. The diamond bracelet on her wrist caught the light—new, expensive. A gift from my Beta.

"Alpha," the maître d' approached, his expression carefully neutral. "There's something you should see."

He led me to his station where a manila folder lay open. Inside were documents bearing the official seal of the Northern Territories—records of pack lineage that were supposed to remain confidential.

"How unfortunate," I murmured, scanning the top page. "Jemma Ellis's grandmother... a Rogue traitor banished for collaborating with human hunters."

"Should I remove it, Alpha?"

"No," I replied, closing the folder with deliberate slowness. "Knowledge is meant to be shared, isn't it?"

By evening, the whispers had spread like wildfire through the pack's elite circles. I sat in my office, watching through the window as Jemma was escorted from the pack's exclusive shopping district, her face streaked with tears.

"Shadow reports the Ellis girl has been banned from three establishments already," my assistant informed me. "The council members' wives have closed ranks against her."

"Good," I said, turning back to my desk. "Now for phase two."

---

The excavators arrived at dawn.

I stood at my office window, watching as the massive machines rumbled through the pack grounds toward the Moon Garden. My wolf stirred restlessly within me, a low growl building in my throat.

"Alpha," my assistant's voice cracked through the intercom. "Beta Kane requests your presence at the construction site."

I found him directing workers, blueprints in hand, his expression smug with satisfaction. The red construction markers I'd noticed days ago now formed a grid across the garden—right through Mael's memorial.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, my voice carrying across the lawn.

Kane turned, his smile not reaching his eyes. "Ah, Anastasia. Perfect timing. I was just about to call you."

"What are you doing to my son's memorial?" Each word felt like glass in my throat.

"Your son's memorial," he repeated, his emphasis making it sound like an accusation. "It's been ten years, Ana. Don't you think it's time to move on?"

I stepped closer, feeling my Alpha aura flare. "You have no right—"

"I have every right," he cut me off, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "As your Beta and your mate, I'm doing what's best for you. That garden is a monument to weakness. It's bad for pack morale."

The workers had stopped, their eyes darting between us. This was becoming a spectacle—exactly what I'd wanted to avoid.

"The marble statue will be removed today," Kane continued, gesturing to the workers. "I've had it redesignated as non-essential pack property."

"You wouldn't dare," I breathed, my hands curling into fists.

"Watch me," he replied, his eyes challenging. "This isn't up for discussion, Anastasia. It's already decided."

---

That night, I retreated to my private meditation chamber, seeking to establish a mind-link with the Lycan King's representative. Something was wrong with Kane—deeply wrong—and I needed outside intervention.

I closed my eyes, focusing my energy on the ancient connection that all Alphas shared with the royal court.

*Your Majesty's representative,* I projected, following the ritual protocol. *Alpha Hudson of Silver Moon Pack requests urgent communication.*

The response should have been immediate—a warm rush of connection along the psychic pathways that bound all werewolves together.

Instead, I hit a wall.

Not just any wall—a Void Block. Cold, impenetrable darkness that should not exist in our world.

I gasped, clutching my temples as pain lanced through my skull. This wasn't just interference—this was active suppression. Forbidden dark magic being used to isolate me.

"Alpha?" My guard's concerned voice came through the door.

"I'm fine," I called, my voice steady despite the throbbing pain. "Just a headache."

I pressed my fingers against my temples, documenting the sensation. The magical signature was distinctive—a corruption of ancient binding spells that no werewolf should know how to cast.

Kane wasn't just betraying me—he was breaking our most sacred laws.

And he had no idea I'd just found his most damning secret yet.

The first sign of Kane's smear campaign appeared on my office door.

I stared at the red spray paint letters—'MAD ALPHA'—blazing across the polished wood. My fingers traced the fresh paint, still tacky to the touch.

"Shadow," I called quietly.

A figure materialized from the corner. "Yes, Alpha?"

"Have this cleaned immediately." My voice remained steady despite the rage burning beneath my skin. "And find out who did this."

"Already in progress, Alpha." Shadow's voice was neutral, but I caught the flicker of disgust in their eyes. "The security footage shows three Omegas—paid agitators, not pack members."

I nodded, unsurprised. Kane was getting bolder.

By midday, the whispers had spread through the pack like wildfire. I sat in my office, watching through the window as pack members gathered in small groups, their eyes darting toward the pack house before leaning in to whisper.

"Alpha," my assistant's voice came through the intercom. "Jemma Ellis has posted another story."

I pulled up her profile on my tablet. There she was—all perfect makeup and practiced concern—speaking directly to the camera.

"I'm just worried about our pack," she said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "We all know Alpha Hudson has been... struggling since Mael's passing. Ten years of grief can change a person."

The comments section below was flooded with pack members' responses—some expressing concern, others outright calling for evaluation of my fitness to lead.

"Shadow," I called again.

"Jemma's post has reached over five thousand views in the last hour," Shadow reported. "Kane's funding her account through a shell company."

I set down the tablet, my mind racing. This wasn't just a personal attack—this was calculated political maneuvering. Kane was systematically undermining my authority.

"Schedule a strategy meeting for this afternoon," I ordered. "All council members and senior warriors."

---

The conference room fell silent as I entered. Twelve pairs of eyes followed me to the head of the table.

"Thank you for coming," I began, my voice deliberately erratic. I let my hands tremble slightly as I arranged my papers. "I've called this meeting to discuss... to discuss..."

I paused, letting confusion ripple across their faces.

"Alpha?" Elder Blackwood prompted gently.

"Yes, yes, of course." I cleared my throat. "Intelligence reports indicate a group of Rogues moving illicit Moonstones near our northern border."

I spread out a map, pointing to an area well-known for its danger and lack of clear jurisdiction.

"These stones represent a significant threat to pack stability," I continued, allowing a hint of wildness to enter my eyes. "I propose we intercept them."

"Alpha," General Lopez spoke up, his weathered face creased with concern. "That area is disputed territory. Any action there could spark inter-pack conflict."

"Exactly!" I slammed my fist on the table, making several council members flinch. "We must protect what's ours!"

I felt their eyes on me—some concerned, others calculating. From the corner of my eye, I saw Kane exchange a glance with Ridge Ellis.

"Who will lead this mission?" I asked, my gaze sweeping across the room before landing on Kane.

"Beta Warren," I said, my voice suddenly decisive. "You will lead our warriors to intercept these Rogues."

Kane straightened, his expression carefully neutral. "Of course, Alpha."

"Good." I nodded rapidly. "The mission launches at dawn tomorrow."

---

The forest was silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves as I watched through the drone feed. My loyal Gamma operator controlled the device from a concealed position half a mile away.

"There he is," the Gamma whispered.

On the screen, Kane emerged from the trees, his team fanned out behind him. They'd successfully intercepted the Rogue shipment—over fifty Moonstones glinting in the early morning light.

"Log them all," Kane ordered his lieutenant. "Every single one."

I watched as the lieutenant began cataloging the stones, each one tagged and recorded according to pack protocol.

When the lieutenant stepped away to transmit the report, Kane moved swiftly. His hands dipped into the collection bag, pulling out handfuls of Moonstones that he quickly transferred to a smaller pouch at his waist.

"Got him," the Gamma whispered.

"Keep recording," I replied, my voice cold. "Every second."

Kane worked methodically, skimming exactly half the stones before returning to his position as if nothing had happened.

"Transmission complete," the lieutenant reported. "Twenty-five Moonstones secured and logged."

"Good," Kane nodded. "Let's get these back to the pack house."

I switched off the feed, a cold smile forming on my lips.

"Send the footage to my private server," I instructed the Gamma. "And make sure it's secure."

"Already done, Alpha."

I stood, stretching my arms above my head. The trap was set. Now all that remained was to spring it at exactly the right moment.

As I walked back toward the pack house, I could hear Kane's voice echoing through the trees—directing his team, playing the role of loyal Beta perfectly.

Soon enough, he'd learn what happened when you stole from an Alpha.