I stumbled through the pack house like a ghost, my body moving on autopilot while my mind replayed the scene in that neutral territory lodge over and over. Michael's arms around Sarah. Their lips locked together. The bitter taste of that 'prenatal tonic' still lingered on my tongue three days later, a constant reminder of my shattered world.

Luna, my wolf, had retreated deep within me, her presence a faint whimper of pain rather than the strong, vibrant force she once was. I could feel her curled protectively around the tiny life growing inside me, as if trying to shield our pup from the truth of its father's betrayal.

"Luna Rachel, the Alpha wants the monthly inventory reports by sundown," Beta Marcus said, his voice cutting through my fog. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied my face. "Are you... well?"

I forced my lips into what I hoped resembled a smile. "Of course. Just tired from the trip."

Marcus nodded, though doubt flickered across his features. "The Alpha returns tomorrow with Dr. Blake. They've been delayed by... additional negotiations."

The way he said it made my stomach twist. Did everyone know? Had I been the only one blind to their affair?

"Thank you, Marcus," I whispered, turning away before he could see the tears threatening to spill.

Nights were the worst. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw them together – Michael's powerful hands on Sarah's waist, her triumphant smile as she pressed that vial to my lips. The hallucinations felt so real that I would wake gasping, my nightgown soaked with sweat, Luna howling in despair within me.

*He never loved us,* she whimpered on the third night. *The bond was never true.*

"No," I argued aloud in the darkness of our bedroom – Michael's scent already fading from the sheets. "He must have loved us once."

But even as I spoke the words, I wondered if they were true. Had I imagined the tenderness in his eyes when we first mated? Had his promises of forever been nothing but carefully crafted lies?

Morning brought waves of nausea that had nothing to do with the pregnancy. I forced myself to eat, knowing our pup needed nourishment, but everything tasted like ash. The pack members I passed in the hallways averted their eyes, their whispers following me like shadows.

"Poor Luna..."

"...not even his..."

"...Dr. Blake said..."

I retreated to my moonpetal garden, the only place that still felt like mine. The delicate silver-blue flowers had been my first project as Luna, planted to bless our union. Now their sweet scent seemed to mock me as I knelt among them, pulling weeds with trembling hands.

The first cramp hit without warning – a searing pain that doubled me over. I clutched my stomach, a cry escaping my lips as Luna thrashed in panic.

*The pup! Our pup!* she howled.

Warm wetness spread between my thighs as I collapsed among the moonpetals. In the fading daylight, I could see the crimson staining my dress – bright and terrible against the pale fabric.

"No," I sobbed, curling around my belly. "Please, Moon Goddess, no."

But the pain only intensified, waves of agony washing over me as Luna's anguished whimpers echoed through my mind. I lay there alone, beneath the rising moon, as our dreams bled out onto the garden soil.

Hours later, hollow and empty, I dragged myself back to the pack house. The infirmary lights blazed, and Sarah's scent – that floral, poisonous scent – wafted from the open door. I pressed myself against the wall, desperate to avoid her.

"The Luna's condition is concerning," I heard her saying to someone inside. "I've examined her medical history, and there are... irregularities. The timing of her pregnancy doesn't align with the Alpha's last rut."

A murmur of shocked voices responded. My blood turned to ice as I realized what she was doing – planting seeds of doubt, turning the pack against me while I was at my most vulnerable.

I slipped through the shadowed hallways, blood still staining my dress, my soul as empty as my womb. Pack members stepped aside as I passed, their eyes averted – not in respect, but in judgment and pity. The whispers followed me like a poisonous cloud.

"Another Alpha's pup..."

"...tried to trick our Alpha..."

"...no wonder he turned to Dr. Blake..."

I reached our bedroom – no, Michael's bedroom now – and collapsed against the door, sliding to the floor as Luna's broken howls echoed through my shattered heart. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the fresh sheets on the bed, prepared for his return.

With Sarah.

The realization hit me with brutal clarity: this was never about a mistake or a moment of weakness. This was calculated. Planned. I had lost everything – my mate, my pup, my place in the pack.

And tomorrow, he would return to finish what they had started.

Night had fallen by the time I dragged myself back to my quarters, my body still aching from the loss of our pup. The hallways of the pack house were unnaturally quiet, as if the very walls were holding their breath. When I reached the door to my room—our room—a wave of wrongness hit me before I even touched the handle.

Something had changed.

I pushed the door open and froze. Sarah's floral scent assaulted me, overwhelming any trace of my own presence. My belongings had been moved—no, not moved. Discarded. My dresses were piled carelessly in the corner, some already torn as if deemed unworthy of salvaging. The photos of Michael and me that had adorned the dresser were gone, replaced by crystal bottles of Sarah's perfumes and medicines.

"No," I whispered, stumbling forward as Luna whimpered weakly inside me.

My gaze fell on the bedside table where I always kept a candle burning beside the handwritten sheet music of my mother's lullaby—the one she used to sing to me as a child, the one I had planned to sing to our pup. The candle was extinguished, the sheet music crumpled and tossed aside like garbage.

With trembling hands, I retrieved the paper, smoothing it carefully as tears blurred my vision. This small piece of my mother, of my past, was all I had left.

"I wouldn't bother with that," Sarah's cool voice came from behind me. "The pack has no use for Moonstone Pack sentimentality."

I turned to face her, clutching the sheet music to my chest. She stood in the doorway, her white healer's coat pristine, her dark hair falling in perfect waves around her shoulders. She looked like she belonged here—and I was the intruder.

"These are my quarters," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah's lips curved into a smile that never reached her eyes. "Were your quarters. Alpha Michael has requested I make myself comfortable here." She stepped inside, running her fingers possessively along the dresser. "I've already disposed of most of your... clutter. You can take what's left."

Luna snarled weakly, but I couldn't summon the strength to challenge Sarah. Not now, not when I was still bleeding from the loss of my pup—a loss I was beginning to suspect wasn't natural at all.

"Where am I supposed to go?" I asked, hating the broken quality in my voice.

"The Omega quarters have a spare room," she replied with cruel indifference. "Fitting, don't you think?"

I gathered what remained of my belongings—a few dresses, my mother's lullaby, a small wooden box of keepsakes—and left without another word. Each step felt like walking through deep water, my body numb with shock and grief.

The dinner bell rang as I descended the stairs, summoning pack members to the great hall for the evening meal. My instinct was to retreat, to hide away in the Omega quarters where no one would see my shame. But Luna, weak as she was, pushed me forward.

*We are still Luna,* she whispered. *Until he formally rejects us.*

The great hall fell silent as I entered. Dozens of eyes turned to me, some pitying, others cold with judgment. I took my usual seat at the head table, ignoring the whispers that followed me like shadows. Minutes later, Sarah swept in, her white coat exchanged for an elegant blue dress that highlighted her curves. She took the seat beside mine—the Luna's seat—with practiced grace.

"I've just completed my examination of Luna Rachel," she announced to the table of senior pack members, her voice carrying just enough to reach the closest tables. "I'm afraid the news isn't good."

I stared at my empty plate, unable to lift my eyes as she continued her performance.

"The pup she lost..." Sarah paused dramatically, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper that was still perfectly audible. "The timing doesn't align with Alpha Michael's cycles. And there are certain... markers in her blood that suggest she may have been with another wolf."

Gasps rippled through the hall. I felt the weight of accusation pressing down on me, suffocating me.

"That's a lie," I whispered, but my voice was lost in the growing murmurs.

Sarah placed a hand on my arm, her fingers digging painfully into my skin. "It's not your fault," she said loudly, her tone dripping with false sympathy. "Some she-wolves simply aren't meant to be Lunas. Their wolves seek... other arrangements."

The hall doors crashed open, silencing the whispers instantly. Michael stood in the entrance, his massive frame blocking the light from the corridor. His eyes found me immediately, burning with a rage I had never seen before.

"Rachel," he growled, the sound reverberating through the silent hall. "Come here."

Luna cowered within me as I rose on shaking legs. Every step toward him felt like walking to my execution. When I reached him, he gripped my arm with bruising force, dragging me into the center of the hall where all could witness what was to come.

"I, Alpha Michael Morrison," he began, his voice thundering through the space, each word a physical blow, "reject you, Rachel Morrison, as my mate."

His Alpha aura crashed over me like a tidal wave, crushing the breath from my lungs. The mate bond, already weakened by his betrayal, began to tear—a physical, excruciating pain that dropped me to my knees. Through tears of agony, I saw Sarah watching with thinly veiled triumph.

"You brought this on yourself," Michael snarled, his hand closing around my throat as he lifted me to my feet. "Trying to pass another wolf's pup as mine?"

"It was yours," I gasped, clawing at his hand. "I never—"

With a roar of rage, he shoved me backward. I stumbled, losing my balance, and crashed into the stone hearth. My head struck the edge with a sickening crack, and warmth spread across my scalp as blood seeped into my hair.

I lay there, dazed and broken, as my blood pooled on the frozen tiles of the great hall. Through blurring vision, I watched Michael turn away, his arm sliding possessively around Sarah's waist.

"Get her out of my territory by dawn," he commanded no one in particular. "Or I'll have her hunted down like the traitor she is."

As darkness closed in around me, Luna's fading voice whispered one final truth:

*We were never truly his.*