The silence in my private studio felt suffocating after Julian's public humiliation. My hands shook as I locked the door behind me, the sound echoing in the small space I'd carved out for my most personal work. Luna paced restlessly within me, her confusion and pain bleeding through our connection.

"He used our bond against us," I whispered to the empty room, my fingers unconsciously touching the spot on my neck where Julian's mark still burned. The betrayal felt like poison in my veins, but beneath the hurt, something harder was crystallizing—determination.

I moved to my desk with mechanical precision, pulling out fresh notebooks and my laptop. If Julian wouldn't believe me, I'd gather evidence so overwhelming that even he couldn't dismiss it. My wolf whimpered, urging me to return to our mate, to submit and make peace. But my human mind was clearer than it had been in years.

"No, Luna," I said firmly. "He made his choice."

I started with what I knew. Evie's submission had been too perfect, too polished for someone who'd only recently shifted. The techniques she'd used weren't beginner-level work—they were advanced methods I'd spent years developing. But if she'd stolen from me, chances were I wasn't her first victim.

Opening my laptop, I accessed the pack's design database and began cross-referencing Evie's work history. The timestamps told an interesting story. Her first submission had been three months ago—a simple border pattern that had earned praise from the design council. But when I looked closer, something nagged at me about the style.

I pulled up Elena Hart's portfolio from the same time period. Elena was a senior designer, someone I'd worked with for years. Her signature style included delicate flourishes that took years to master. And there, in Evie's "original" border pattern, were Elena's exact flourishes.

My heart pounded as I documented the similarities, taking screenshots and noting the timestamps. But I needed more than visual evidence—I needed testimony.

I reached out through the pack's mind-link, carefully targeting Elena. *Elena, are you free to talk? Privately?*

Her response came quickly, tinged with curiosity. *Of course, Sylvia. Everything alright?*

*Can you come to my studio? I need to show you something.*

Elena arrived within minutes, her graying hair pulled back in its usual practical bun. She took one look at my face and closed the door behind her. "What's wrong?"

I turned my laptop screen toward her, showing the comparison between her work and Evie's. "Does this look familiar?"

Elena's face went pale as she leaned closer. "That's... that's my border pattern. From the Spring Festival project." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I wondered why the council seemed unimpressed when I submitted my portfolio for the advancement review. They said my work looked 'derivative.'"

The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. "She submitted your work before you could present it officially."

"But how did she even access it? My preliminary sketches were in my private files."

I thought about Evie's sudden emergence in pack circles, her convenient friendship with younger wolves who had access to various departments. "She's been cultivating relationships. Gathering information."

Elena sank into the chair across from me. "I have the original sketches. Dated. Witnessed by my assistant."

"I need you to document everything. Timestamps, witnesses, original materials." I opened a new file on my laptop. "We're going to build a case."

Over the next hour, I reached out to three more designers through private mind-links. Maya Torres, a promising young warrior who did decorative work in her spare time, confirmed that her ceremonial pattern had appeared in one of Evie's submissions two weeks before Maya's official presentation. Daniel Cross, who worked part-time in archives while training for his warrior trials, discovered that his historical recreation project had been "adapted" by Evie for a recent heritage display.

Each conversation added another layer to the pattern of theft. Evie wasn't just plagiarizing—she was systematically stealing from pack members who were too junior, too specialized, or too trusting to immediately recognize the theft.

As I compiled the evidence, Luna's distress grew stronger. She couldn't understand why we weren't returning to Julian, why we weren't trying to fix our bond. The mate instinct was powerful, urging submission and reconciliation. But every piece of evidence I uncovered strengthened my human resolve.

"Look at this," I murmured to my wolf, showing her the timeline I'd created. "Five designers. Eight stolen pieces. All submitted under Evie's name over the past three months."

Luna whimpered, torn between her instinctual need for our mate and her growing understanding of the injustice we'd uncovered.

I saved the final document, my evidence now undeniable and comprehensive. Original sketches, witness testimonies, timestamp comparisons, and pattern analysis—everything an Alpha would need to render judgment.

But as I stared at the completed file, one thought echoed in my mind: Julian had chosen to protect this thief over his own mate. The sacred bond we'd forged three years ago, the connection blessed by the Moon Goddess herself, meant less to him than his political convenience.

That realization cut deeper than any physical wound ever could.

The council chamber felt smaller than usual with so many Alphas present. I stood in the back corner where senior designers traditionally observed alliance negotiations, my evidence folder pressed against my chest like armor. The morning light streaming through the tall windows did nothing to warm the cold knot in my stomach.

Alpha Marcus sat at the head of the long oak table, his expression carefully neutral as he welcomed the visiting delegations. But it was Alexander Reid who commanded my attention—the Silver Ridge Pack Alpha carried himself with a quiet authority that didn't need to dominate the room to be felt. His dark hair was touched with silver at the temples, and when his eyes swept the chamber, they lingered briefly on me before moving on.

Julian stood near the front, his Beta pin catching the light. Beside him, Evie wore a cream-colored dress that practically screamed innocence, her newly shifted status making her the center of attention among the younger wolves. She caught my gaze and smiled—sweet, triumphant, unbearably smug.

Luna growled low within me, but I forced myself to remain still. Not yet.

"We're pleased to resume negotiations for the alliance project," Marcus began, his Alpha voice carrying easily through the chamber. "Beta Vasquez has assured me that the design concerns have been addressed."

Julian stepped forward, his movements confident. "Indeed, Alpha. I'd like to present Evie Anderson, whose fresh perspective and natural talent have created a design that I believe will exceed all expectations."

My fingers tightened on the folder as Evie moved to the presentation board, where my stolen work was displayed in enlarged format. She began her presentation with practiced ease, describing the crescent moon motif as if she'd spent months developing it instead of simply copying my sketches.

"The silver threading represents the connection between our packs," Evie explained, gesturing to details I'd agonized over. "The way it interweaves with the lunar phases symbolizes—"

"Why did you choose to offset the eastern corner?" Alexander's voice cut through her rehearsed speech, his tone politely curious but his eyes sharp.

Evie blinked, her hand dropping to her side. "The eastern corner?"

"The deliberate imperfection in the pattern." Alexander leaned forward slightly. "It's an unusual choice. What was your reasoning?"

I watched Evie's throat work as she swallowed, her confidence faltering. "It's... aesthetic balance?"

"Interesting." Alexander's expression didn't change, but something in his tone suggested he wasn't convinced. "And the thread count variation in the outer bands—that serves what purpose?"

"Structural integrity," Evie said quickly, but her voice had lost its certainty.

Julian moved closer to her, his presence a clear message of support. "Alpha Reid, if I may—the technical specifics are less important than the overall vision. Evie has created something that honors both our packs' traditions."

"Has she?" Alexander's gaze shifted to Julian, and I saw the flicker of doubt in my mate's eyes before he masked it. "Because the more questions I ask, the less convinced I am that the designer truly understands her own work."

Murmurs rippled through the chamber. Other visiting Alphas exchanged glances, their interest piqued by Alexander's challenge. Marcus frowned, his fingers drumming once on the table—a sign I recognized as his thinking tell.

"The lunar phases progress counterclockwise," Alexander continued, his attention back on Evie. "That's contrary to traditional pack symbolism. Explain your choice."

Evie's face had gone pale. "It's... it represents forward thinking? Breaking from tradition?"

"Or," Alexander said quietly, "it's an error made by someone who didn't understand the symbolic meaning behind the original design."

Julian's jaw clenched, and I felt the surge of his Beta aura even from across the room. "Alpha Reid, I must object to this interrogation of our pack's designer. Evie has proven her talent—"

"Has she?" The question came from Marcus, who was now studying the design board with new scrutiny. "Alexander raises valid concerns. Beta Vasquez, you vouched for this work personally."

The weight of multiple Alpha gazes turned toward Julian, and for the first time since this nightmare began, I saw uncertainty cross his features. Evie looked at him desperately, silently begging for rescue, but the questions had done their damage. Even the pack members who'd been nodding approvingly during her presentation now wore expressions of doubt.

I felt Luna surge within me, sensing the shift in the room's energy. The moment was coming—the moment when truth would either emerge or be buried forever under political convenience.

My hands steadied on the folder. Not yet, I told my wolf. But soon.