The east wing of the pack house had been abandoned for months, its dusty corridors and empty rooms serving as a monument to our financial struggles. Which was why the sound of hushed voices drifting from behind the heavy oak door made my blood run cold.

I pressed myself against the wall, my wolf's enhanced hearing picking up every whispered word.

"She's controlling you, Albert." Angelica's voice was soft, persuasive. "Can't you see it? Every dollar she gives comes with strings attached."

"Birdie isn't like that," Albert replied, but his tone lacked conviction. "She's always supported the pack—"

"Has she? Or has she been positioning herself to take over?" The sound of footsteps moved closer to the door. "Think about it. She controls all the finances now. She's isolated you from pack decisions. Next, she'll demand Alpha authority."

My heart hammered against my ribs. How could Albert even entertain such accusations? After everything I'd sacrificed, everything I'd given up for him and this pack?

"I don't know..." Albert's voice wavered. "Sometimes she looks at me like she's calculating something. Like she's keeping score."

"Because she is." Angelica's words dripped with false sympathy. "She's been planning this from the beginning, Albert. Using your gratitude against you. Making you dependent on her money so she can pull it away whenever you don't obey."

The floorboards creaked as someone moved closer to the window. "She's not the sweet, devoted mate she pretends to be. She's a manipulator. And if you don't act soon, she'll destroy everything you've built."

I backed away from the door, my hands shaking. How had Angelica twisted my love and support into something so sinister? How had Albert forgotten that I'd given him everything willingly, never asking for anything in return except his love?

Three days later, my search for answers led me to Angelica's room. She'd left for town with Luna Moreno, giving me the opportunity I'd been waiting for. My wolf urged caution as I slipped inside, but I needed proof of what she'd done to me.

The room was meticulously organized, every surface gleaming. Too clean. Too perfect. I moved systematically through her belongings, checking drawers and closets until my fingers brushed against something hidden beneath her mattress.

A small glass vial, half-empty, with crystalline residue clinging to its sides. The scent hit me immediately—bitter, acrid, unmistakably wolfsbane. My stomach lurched as memories of that terrible dinner flooded back. The burning throat, the trembling hands, the way my wolf had retreated in terror.

But it was what I found next that made my blood freeze. Hidden behind a loose baseboard was a ceramic bowl—the same pattern as our dinner service. Dark stains marred its bottom, and when I leaned closer, the wolfsbane scent was overwhelming.

She'd kept it. Like some twisted trophy.

I gathered both pieces of evidence with trembling hands, my wolf snarling with rage. This was it. This would prove everything. Albert would have to believe me now.

I found him in his office, bent over pack reports that I knew he couldn't afford to ignore much longer. The vial and bowl clinked softly as I set them on his desk.

"Albert, I need you to see this."

He looked up, his eyes immediately focusing on the evidence. For a moment, hope bloomed in my chest as his expression shifted to confusion, then recognition.

"What is this supposed to be?"

"Proof." I kept my voice steady, professional. "Angelica poisoned me with wolfsbane. This is the vial she used, and the bowl she served it in. I found them hidden in her room."

Albert picked up the vial, turning it over in his hands. But instead of the shock and horror I expected, his face hardened.

"You planted this."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "What?"

"This is exactly what Angelica warned me about." He set the vial down with deliberate calm. "You're so desperate to get rid of her that you'd fabricate evidence. Frame an innocent pack member."

"Albert, please. Look at the facts—"

"The facts?" He stood, his Alpha aura pressing against me. "The fact is that you've been acting erratically ever since I started making independent decisions. The fact is that you've been using money to control me, and when that stopped working, you've resorted to this."

My wolf whimpered as his rejection of the truth settled like lead in my stomach. "I would never—"

"Wouldn't you?" His eyes were cold, distant. "You've already proven you'll cut off pack funding when you don't get your way. Why wouldn't you plant evidence too?"

The pack meeting that evening felt like a funeral—my funeral. Albert stood at the head of the great hall, his presence commanding as always, while I sat in my usual place at his right side. But everything had changed.

"Pack members," Albert began, his voice carrying easily through the room. "Recent events have made it clear that we need to make some temporary adjustments to pack leadership."

My blood turned to ice.

"Luna Birdie has been under significant stress lately, and her recent illness has made it difficult for her to fulfill her duties effectively." His words were careful, diplomatic, but they cut like knives. "Therefore, Angelica Phillips will be assuming Luna responsibilities while Birdie focuses on her recovery."

The room erupted in murmurs. Some pack members looked confused, others relieved. Angelica stepped forward from her place among the general population, her face a perfect mask of humble acceptance.

"I'm honored to serve the pack in whatever capacity Alpha Albert deems necessary," she said, her voice carrying just the right note of reluctant duty.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shift and tear her throat out. Instead, I sat frozen as my world crumbled around me.

"Luna Birdie will be moving to the guest quarters to ensure she gets the rest she needs," Albert continued, not meeting my eyes. "Angelica will take residence in the Luna suite to better fulfill her new responsibilities."

The final blow. Not only was I being stripped of my title and duties, but I was being physically displaced from the rooms that had been my sanctuary for four years.

As the meeting dissolved into scattered conversations, I remained seated, watching Angelica accept congratulations and well-wishes from pack members who'd once looked to me for guidance. She caught my eye across the room and smiled—sweet, innocent, victorious.

I'd lost everything. My mate's trust, my position, my home within our home. And the woman who'd orchestrated it all was now wearing my crown.

The mountain air bit at my cheeks as I followed Albert's scent trail deeper into the pine forest. Something felt wrong about this hunt—the way he'd insisted I stay behind, the secretive glances between him and his warriors, the tension that had been building for weeks since I'd been stripped of my Luna duties.

But I couldn't shake the protective instinct that had driven me to follow anyway. My wolf whined anxiously beneath my skin, sensing danger that I couldn't name.

Albert's scent led me up a rocky slope where loose stones scattered under my boots. The trail grew fainter as wind whipped through the trees, carrying away the familiar musk and cedar that had once meant safety to me. Now it only reminded me of how far we'd fallen.

I pushed through a thicket of mountain laurel, branches catching at my jacket, when the ground simply disappeared.

The hidden ravine swallowed me whole. I tumbled down the steep embankment, rocks and roots tearing at my clothes, mud splashing across my face as I hit the bottom with a bone-jarring thud. Pain shot through my ribs as I lay gasping in the shallow creek that ran along the ravine floor.

For long minutes, I could only breathe and assess the damage. Nothing broken, but my jacket was torn, my jeans soaked through with muddy water. Debris clung to my hair, and when I touched my cheek, my fingers came away bloody from where a branch had scratched me.

The climb back up took forever. My hands kept slipping on the wet rocks, and by the time I hauled myself over the edge, I was covered head to toe in mud and creek water. My scent was completely masked by the earthy smell of wet soil and decaying leaves.

I heard voices before I saw them—Albert's commanding tone cutting through the forest air. Relief flooded through me as I stumbled toward the sound, eager to explain what had happened, to see concern in his eyes instead of the cold indifference I'd grown used to.

"There!" someone shouted. "By the oak grove!"

I stepped into the clearing, raising my hand in greeting. "Albert, I—"

The words died in my throat as I saw his expression. No recognition. No relief. Only the hard, predatory stare of an Alpha who'd found his prey.

"Rogue," he snarled, his wolf pressing against the surface. "How dare you trespass on pack lands?"

My blood turned to ice. "Albert, it's me. It's Birdie—"

But he wasn't listening. The mud and debris had completely masked my scent, and in his paranoid state, he saw only what he expected to see—an intruder, a threat to be eliminated.

"Take her," he commanded his warriors, his voice carrying the full weight of Alpha authority. "Strip her. Rogues don't deserve the dignity of clothing on our territory."

Hands seized my arms before I could react. Marcus Reid, his Beta, hesitated for a moment, his nostrils flaring as if trying to catch my scent. But Albert's next words cut through any doubt.

"Now! She's probably been spying on us for weeks. This is what happens to trespassers who think they can infiltrate the Moonstone Pack."

Tears streamed down my muddy cheeks as rough hands tore at my jacket, my shirt. "Albert, please! Look at me! It's Birdie!"

But my voice was lost in the chaos of his rage, in the warriors' grunts of effort as they followed their Alpha's orders without question. The cold mountain air hit my exposed skin like a slap.

"Break her legs," Albert ordered, his voice devoid of mercy. "Let her crawl back to whatever hole she came from and tell them what happens to rogues who dare enter our territory."

The first blow to my shin sent agony shooting up my leg. I screamed—not from the pain, but from the soul-deep anguish of watching my mate, my husband, my everything, order my destruction without a flicker of recognition.

"ALBERT!" I shrieked his name with everything I had left, my voice carrying across the mountainside like a wounded animal's cry.

The second blow never came. The warriors froze, their hands still gripping my arms as my broken voice echoed through the trees. Albert's face went white as realization crashed over him like a wave.

"Birdie?" he whispered, his Alpha mask cracking. "Oh, Moon Goddess... Birdie?"

I couldn't speak through the pain radiating from my shattered leg. Could only stare at him through tears and mud, watching him see me—really see me—for the first time in months.

"What were you doing here?" His voice hardened again, panic making him cruel. "Why were you following us? This is your fault—you shouldn't have been here!"

Even now, even after ordering my torture, he couldn't accept responsibility. Couldn't apologize. Could only blame me for caring enough to worry about his safety.

The warriors released me, and I crumpled to the forest floor, my broken leg useless beneath me. Albert stood over me, his face a mask of anger and guilt, while I dragged myself inch by agonizing inch toward the tree line.

No one helped me. No one followed.

I was truly alone.