The greenhouse was my sanctuary in a pack house that had never felt like home. Dawn hadn't yet broken when I slipped inside, the familiar scent of damp soil and blooming flowers wrapping around me like an embrace I'd long been denied elsewhere. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for the watering can—a weakness I couldn't afford to show outside these glass walls.

I focused on the white lilies, my favorites. Their pure petals reminded me of what I once was—hopeful, untainted. Before the mate bond that became my prison.

"You're wilting too, aren't you?" I whispered to a drooping bloom, gently supporting its stem. My wolf, Luna, whimpered softly in the back of my mind. Once silver and strong, she now barely stirred, weakened by the sickness that had been consuming us both since I gave too much blood to save William three years ago.

A sudden tremor ran through my bones, stronger than the usual morning weakness. Luna whined, a sound of warning and resignation.

"I know," I murmured. "We need to see Elara."

The walk to the healer's cabin felt longer than usual. Each step required concentration as I kept my back straight, my face composed—the perfect image of a Luna that no one truly saw. The freesia and vanilla scent that marked me as William's true mate had dimmed over the months, just like everything else about me.

Elara's cabin smelled of herbs and ancient remedies. The elderly healer looked up from her mortar and pestle, her eyes widening slightly at my unannounced appearance.

"Luna Sarah," she said, quickly setting aside her work. "You should have sent word."

"Some things are better discussed without announcement," I replied, my voice soft but steady. "The weakness is worse, Elara. And Luna... she's fading faster."

Elara's weathered hands were gentle as she examined me, her fingers pressing against pulse points, her eyes studying the pallor of my skin. But I already knew what she would find. I'd been watching my own decay for months now, cataloging each new symptom, each fresh pain.

"The wolf sickness has progressed," she finally said, her voice heavy with the weight of her diagnosis. "The bond rejection has accelerated it beyond what I'd feared."

"How long?" I asked simply.

Elara's eyes filled with tears she couldn't professionally hide. "Six months, Luna. Perhaps less."

I nodded, absorbing the finality of it. Six months of watching William with Rebecca. Six months of being the phantom Luna, the mate who wasn't wanted. Six months of feeling my wolf slowly die within me.

"No one can know," I said firmly. "Especially not the Alpha."

"But Luna, perhaps if he knew—"

"He has made his choice, Elara." I cut her off, more sharply than I intended. "William chose Rebecca long ago. My death will simply free him to make it official."

I left the cabin with my secret safely contained, my scent carefully controlled to mask the fear and sorrow. The pack house loomed ahead, a beautiful prison where I lived as an unwanted obligation.

That evening, Marcus Thorne, the pack's Gamma, appeared at my door. His expression was carefully blank, but I caught the flash of pity in his eyes.

"Alpha William requests your presence in his study, Luna."

William's study was his domain, a place where I was rarely summoned. The rich scent of pine and rain—his scent—hit me as I entered, followed by the oppressive weight of his black wolf's aura pressing against my chest.

He didn't look up from his papers. "Sarah."

Not Luna. Never Luna from his lips.

"Rebecca's wolf is losing its sight," he said without preamble, his voice clipped and cold. "The healer says a Luna's healing essence can restore it. You will participate in a blood ritual to transfer your wolf's healing abilities to her."

My heart clenched painfully. Even now, knowing I was dying, he was asking me to give more of myself to the woman he truly wanted.

Luna whimpered in protest, but I silenced her. This was our reality.

"I will help Rebecca," I whispered, meeting his gaze directly for perhaps the first time in months. His eyes widened slightly at my boldness. "But first, I want you to complete our mating ceremony. Mark me as your Luna, just once."

William's black wolf stirred visibly beneath his skin, surprised by my request. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—confusion, perhaps, or the faintest hint of curiosity about the mate he had never truly known.

"Very well," he said finally. "If that's your condition."

As I left his study, a single thought sustained me: he would mark me before I died. One moment of the connection I had craved for three years. One moment of being truly his Luna before the darkness took me completely.

The ritual chamber was cold despite the candles I'd carefully arranged around its perimeter. My fingers trembled as I laid out the ceremonial herbs—lavender for calm, jasmine for bonding—in the ancient pattern passed down through generations of Lunas. The scent mingled with my fading freesia and vanilla, creating a bittersweet perfume that filled the sacred space.

"This needs to be perfect," I whispered to Luna, my wolf, who stirred weakly within me. She hadn't been able to fully emerge in weeks now, the sickness stealing her strength as surely as it was stealing mine.

I sprinkled moon-water along the altar's edge, watching how it caught the candlelight like scattered diamonds. Six months. That's all Elara had given us. Six months before the wolf sickness claimed us completely. If this was to be my only true moment as William's Luna, I wanted it to be beautiful.

Selecting silver-threaded ribbons from the ceremonial box, I practiced my vow in a trembling whisper. "I, Sarah Mitchell, accept you, William Sterling, as my mate, my Alpha, my heart..." The words caught in my throat. Three years of rejection hadn't dimmed my love for him, though it had broken everything else inside me.

Luna whimpered, a sound of both longing and warning. She knew better than I did that hope was dangerous.

"Just once," I promised her, arranging the final elements on the altar. "Just once to feel what it should have been."

Exhaustion pulled at me as I finished the preparations. The ritual chamber was ready, waiting for tomorrow night when William would finally mark me properly before I gave what remained of my healing essence to Rebecca. The thought should have been bitter, but instead, I felt an odd peace. At least I would have this one moment of connection before the end.

I slept deeply that night, Luna too weak to keep her usual vigilant watch over our dreams. I didn't hear the movements at the eastern border. Didn't sense the deception being woven in the darkness.

The pounding on my door came with the first light of dawn.

"Luna Sarah!" Marcus's voice was urgent. "Alpha William demands your presence at the eastern border. Now."

Confusion and alarm shot through me as I hurried to dress. The eastern border? There had been no scheduled inspection today. Luna stirred anxiously, sensing danger we couldn't name.

The morning air was crisp as I followed Marcus through the trees. Pack warriors stood in a tense circle at the border marker, their faces grim. And there, at the center, stood William—his powerful frame radiating fury, his black wolf rippling beneath his skin.

The scent hit me before I saw it: my scarf, the one I'd worn two days ago, lying torn and bloodied beside clear signs of rogue tracks. But I hadn't been here. I hadn't—

"Alpha," I began, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.

William's head snapped up, his eyes flashing golden with his wolf's rage. In three strides, he was before me, towering over my small frame. He snatched the scarf, thrusting it toward my face.

"Explain this," he growled, his Alpha tone reverberating through my bones, making Luna curl into herself in submission and fear.

"I don't—I haven't been to the eastern border in weeks," I whispered, confusion making my already weak knees tremble. "I don't understand."

"Rogues crossed our territory last night," William snarled. "And somehow, they knew exactly where our patrols wouldn't be. Your scent is all over their entry point."

Realization dawned like ice water in my veins. Rebecca. It had to be. But the accusation in William's eyes told me he'd already made his judgment.

"William, please," I reached for him, desperation making me forget my place. "I would never betray the pack. I would never betray you."

His face contorted with disgust as he stepped back from my touch. The warriors around us shifted uncomfortably, but none dared intervene. In their eyes, I saw it all—I was already condemned.

William's chest expanded as he drew himself to his full height, his Alpha aura crushing against me with suffocating force. When he spoke, it was with the formal, ritual words that I had dreaded for three years.

"I, Alpha William Sterling, reject you, Sarah Mitchell, as my mate."

The words slammed into me like physical blows. Our bond—already fragile and neglected—shattered completely. Luna howled in agony as something vital was ripped from within us. I fell to my knees, a scream tearing from my throat as white-hot pain coursed through every cell.

Through tears, I saw Rebecca standing at the edge of the clearing, her lips curved in a triumphant smile.

The ritual chamber would remain empty tonight.

I collapsed, my knees buckling beneath me as William's rejection tore through what remained of our bond. The world tilted, darkness edging my vision—but I never hit the ground. Strong arms caught me, the familiar scent of pine and leather enveloping me as Beta Daniel Cooper pulled me against his chest.

"I've got you," he whispered, his voice a gentle rumble against my ear as he carried me away from the prying eyes of the pack.

My body felt hollow, as if William's words had physically carved something essential from my chest. Luna, my wolf, had retreated so deeply within me that I could barely feel her presence—just a faint, agonized whimper echoing in the void where our mate bond had been.

Daniel set me down carefully on a fallen log hidden among the thick bushes at the edge of the clearing. His touch was cautious, respectful, so different from the cold dismissal I'd grown accustomed to.

"Breathe, Sarah," he urged, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead. Where he'd produced it from, I couldn't say. "Just breathe."

I struggled to focus on his face, noticing how his eyes lingered on my trembling hands, the silver flecks in my too-pale skin that had once been vibrant with life. There was knowledge in his gaze—a recognition of my deterioration that I'd tried so hard to hide.

"How long have you known?" I whispered.

"That you're sick?" Daniel's voice dropped lower. "I've watched you fade for months. The others don't see because they don't look. But I see you, Sarah."

The simple acknowledgment of my existence broke something in me. Tears spilled down my cheeks as his gentle aura washed over me, offering a moment's respite from the constant pain.

"He can't do this to you," Daniel muttered, his jaw tight with barely contained anger. "The ritual—in your condition—"

"He doesn't know," I said, wiping away tears with shaking fingers. "And he can't know. Promise me, Daniel."

Before he could respond, a commotion from the pack house drew our attention. Rebecca's voice carried across the grounds, high and panicked.

"I can't see clearly! My wolf—she's losing her vision!"

I watched from our hidden spot as she stumbled dramatically on the steps of the grand hall, falling into William's waiting arms. Her performance was flawless—the frightened gasp, the wide, unfocused eyes scanning desperately as if struggling to make out shapes.

"It's getting worse," she sobbed, clinging to William's shirt. "The healer said it's alpha-scent poisoning from the rogues. Without Sarah's essence, I'll go blind!"

Daniel's hand tightened on my shoulder. "She's lying," he hissed. "There's no such thing as alpha-scent poisoning."

But William's face had already hardened with resolve. His guilt over Rebecca's condition—a condition he believed he'd failed to prevent—was written plainly in the tense set of his shoulders. He would do anything to save his chosen mate, even after destroying his true one.

"The ritual will proceed as planned," William announced, his voice carrying across the clearing. "Tonight."

"Sarah, you can't," Daniel pleaded, turning back to me. "In your condition, giving up your wolf's healing essence could kill you."

I smiled sadly, touching his cheek with trembling fingers. "I'm already dying, Daniel. What difference does it make if it's six months or tonight?"

The night passed in a blur of pain and fevered dreams. When dawn broke, my door crashed open, and Gamma Marcus Thorne filled the doorway, his expression carefully blank.

"Luna Sarah," he said formally, though we all knew the title was now hollow. "Alpha William requires your presence for the ritual."

I rose on unsteady legs, not bothering with the ceremonial robes I'd prepared for what should have been my marking ceremony. What was the point of ceremony now? Luna whimpered as I followed Marcus through the frosted corridors, each step requiring more strength than I possessed.

The pack house's main hall had been transformed. The ancient stone altar stood at its center, surrounded by candles and symbols I recognized from forbidden texts. This was no healing ritual—this was something darker, more ancient. Something that required more than essence.

William stood impassive as Marcus forced me to my knees before the altar. His eyes, once a warm amber that had made my heart race, were now cold and distant. In them, I saw no recognition of what he was about to lose forever.

"Begin the ritual," he commanded, and Rebecca stepped forward, a triumphant smile playing at the corners of her lips.

As her hands reached for me, I realized with sudden clarity: this was never about healing. This was about taking everything I had left.