My half-sister mastered the rare art of truth-speaking.

In her lifetime, she could only speak three truths.

But each one would come to pass.

“I wish for my brother to rise to prominence.”

My half-brother, Jayce Gordon, became a respected Gamma, basking in his newfound status.

“I wish for my mother to be elevated to Luna.”

My mother, the Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, died suddenly, and her stepmother, Rosemary Harvey, took her place as the pack’s matriarch.

“And finally—”

She glared at me with venom in her eyes, her lips twisting into a cruel smile. “I wish for my sister to be rejected by her mate and forced to bond with a rogue. Barren and cursed, yet surrounded by descendants!”

Her words became reality.

I was cast out of the Silver Moon Pack, left to wander as a rogue, and bound to Cruz Ellis, a scarred and broken werewolf with a damaged aura.

But how could a rogue have descendants?

Unless he was the Lycan King, and I, his Queen.

---

My half-sister suddenly fell silent.

Rumors spread that she had learned the ancient art of truth-speaking from a mysterious mentor.

In her lifetime, she could only speak three truths, but each one would come to pass.

On the day of the pack’s ascension ceremony, the entire pack gathered in anticipation.

But my half-sister stood under the shade of a tree, a cold smirk on her lips.

“The next Gamma of the Crimson Fang Pack will be my brother, Jayce Gordon.”

Jayce Gordon was known as the pack’s most useless Omega—lazy, unskilled, and barely able to hold his own in a fight.

Everyone shook their heads and laughed, refusing to believe her.

But when the announcement was made, Jayce Gordon’s name was called, and he stepped forward as the new Gamma of the Crimson Fang Pack.

From that day on, my half-sister’s reputation as a truth-speaker spread like wildfire.

Suitors from powerful packs flocked to her, eager to win her favor and secure her abilities for their own.

Among them, the Luna of the Crimson Fang Pack carefully considered her options and chose Xander Baker, a charismatic Delta from a neighboring pack.

But my half-sister was not satisfied.

“That old hag dares to pair me with a Delta? She’s clearly looking down on me! Doesn’t she know her place?”

She raised her voice to the heavens and declared, “I wish for the Luna to die suddenly, for my mother to take her place, and for me, Mabel Morgan, to become the true heir of the Crimson Fang Pack!”

As soon as the words left her lips, a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, and the Luna collapsed, her eyes wide with terror.

The next morning, at the Luna’s funeral, the Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack officially named Rosemary Harvey as the new Luna, and my half-sister became the pack’s heir.

With two truths spoken and fulfilled, I was filled with dread.

I hid in the packhouse, avoiding her at all costs, knowing full well how much she resented me.

“Mabel Morgan, you’re nothing but a jealous, bitter Omega. You’ll never be anything more than a shadow in my life,” I once told her.

The day the Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack chose me as his mate, she shattered every piece of jewelry in the packhouse, her face twisted with rage.

“Tallulah Ellis, I swear on the Moon Goddess, I will surpass you tenfold, a hundredfold, a thousandfold!”

“When I rise to power, I’ll watch you crumble, rot, and suffer for the rest of your miserable life.”

She didn’t have to wait long for that day to come.

The day my half-sister Mabel Morgan entered the Crimson Fang Pack as its new Luna, she forced me to attend the ceremony with a decree from the Lycan King himself.

I tried to feign illness, but there was no escape. Reluctantly, I stepped into the grand hall where she was preparing for the marking ceremony. The moment I crossed the threshold, I heard the soft click of the door locking behind me.

"Tallulah," Mabel’s voice slithered from behind an ornate screen adorned with silver and moonlight motifs. Her eyes gleamed with malice as she stepped into view. "I’ve been waiting for you."

She smiled, a predator’s smile, and spoke three truths—a rare and dangerous gift she possessed. "May you be rejected by your mate and forced into a bond with a rogue. May you never bear children, and may your life be filled with shame and disgrace."

Before I could react, Cruz Ellis, the rogue she had named, burst into the room, his aura crackling with anger.

"Tallulah Ellis," he growled, his voice low and accusing. "You’ve dishonored the Silver Moon Pack. To think you’d stoop so low as to bond with a rogue like me. You’ve humiliated us all."

Rogue?

What was he talking about?

I stared at him, stunned, but before I could defend myself, others began to gather around, their voices rising in unison, each one confirming the impossible.

"I saw it with my own eyes," one Delta said, his tone harsh. "Tallulah was seen with Cruz in the forest during the pack run. She’s tainted the pack’s honor."

"Disgraceful," another sneered. "She deserves to be cast out."

The accusations piled up, each one more damning than the last. They claimed I had bonded with Cruz willingly, that I had betrayed the pack’s trust. But it wasn’t true. I had been at the pack’s healing center, tending to our injured Beta, Jerry Anderson. How could I have been with Cruz?

"I didn’t do this!" I protested, but my voice was drowned out by the crowd’s jeers. Even my own memories seemed to shift, as if Mabel’s words had rewritten reality itself. Someone even told me that Jerry Anderson had passed away years ago, that I was delusional to think he was still alive.

"Sister, please," Mabel interrupted, her voice trembling with false concern as she dropped to her knees before me. "Tallulah made a mistake, but she’s still family. Please, have mercy on her."

Her act was flawless, and the onlookers were moved by her apparent devotion. Even Cruz’s anger seemed to waver, though his eyes remained hard.

"Fine," he said coldly, his gaze locked on mine. "If you’re so desperate for a rogue, then I’ll give you one. You’ll bond with me, and you’ll live with the shame of it."

The crowd parted, and there he stood—Cruz Ellis, a rogue with a scarred face and a damaged aura, his wolf’s presence weak and fractured.

And just like that, I was bound to him, a rogue, in a ceremony that felt more like a punishment than a union.

I was cast out of the Crimson Fang Pack with nothing to my name.

Even the clothes I wore were stripped from me by the omegas, leaving only a thin, damp undershirt clinging to my skin. The rain had soaked through it, making it nearly transparent.

My half-sister, Mabel Morgan, approached surrounded by her entourage, wrapped in a luxurious fur coat, a heated stone clutched in her hands. Her scent, a mix of rosemary and bitterness, wafted toward me, sharp and mocking.

"The former Delta has quite the figure, doesn’t she?" her servant Monica sneered, stepping forward and addressing the pack warriors nearby. "What do you think, boys?"

The warriors, rough and crude, erupted into laughter and whistles, their eyes raking over me with lecherous glee.

"She’s got more curves than the finest omega in the market!" one jeered.

"Imagine getting a taste of that," another added, his voice dripping with vulgarity.

"Who needs to imagine? She’s a rogue’s mate now—fair game!"

I stood there, my heart numb, my head bowed.

Monica grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet her cold, sneering gaze. "Can’t handle a little humiliation, Delta? You’ve got decades of this ahead of you. Better get used to it!"

With that, she spat on me, her saliva hitting my cheek as she and the others turned to follow Mabel, their laughter echoing in the cold air.

The sky was clear, the faint scent of pine and damp earth lingering in the breeze. The oak trees outside the pack house were bare, their leaves scattered on the ground.

I stood frozen, letting the spit dry on my skin. My eyes drifted to the stone wolves guarding the entrance.

Years ago, an omega had been falsely accused of theft and cast out. She had thrown herself against those statues, her blood staining the ground.

I had laughed at her then, called her weak. Now, I understood. In this world, a woman without protection was better off dead.

I walked forward, as if in a trance, imagining the cold stone against my forehead, the release it would bring.

But Cruz Ellis pulled me back.