Liv POV

The heavy bass of the music thrummed through the floorboards, syncing perfectly with the anxious, rabbit-fast beating of my heart.

I wasn't supposed to exist in this world.

I smoothed down the skirt of the pale blue dress I had scavenged from a thrift store. It was simple fabric, nothing like the shimmering designer gowns the high-born females wore, but it was clean. It was the color of a moonstone, and for tonight, that had to be enough.

I stood deep in the shadows of the grand archway, clutching a tray of empty champagne flutes like a shield. It was the only prop that allowed me to blend into the background, invisible to the enforcers scanning the crowd.

The ballroom was a dizzying sea of silk and tuxedos. The air was thick, almost suffocating, heavy with scents-vanilla, sandalwood, musk. The combined pheromones of hundreds of wolves in one enclosed space made my head spin.

And then, the air shifted.

It cut through the cloying perfume and the heat of bodies like a blade of pure ice. Rain. Ozone. Pine.

My breath hitched in my throat. My inner wolf scrambled to her feet, her tail wagging with a tentative, desperate hope.

Mate. Mate is here.

Helpless against the pull, I followed the scent.

Marcus stood near the center of the room, a dark gravity that drew every eye. He looked devastating in a black tuxedo, his dark hair swept back, his jawline hard enough to break a hand against. He radiated power, the air around him vibrating with the sheer, crushing force of his Alpha aura.

And draped over his arm like a trophy was Izzy.

She wore a dress of crimson silk that clung to every curve, looking every inch the Luna she was scheming to become. She leaned in, whispering something into his ear, and Marcus nodded, his expression grim and distant.

A pang of jealousy, sharp and hot, pierced my chest.

He doesn't know, I told myself, repeating the mantra. He just doesn't know yet.

I took a step forward, drawn by the magnetic, biological pull of the bond. I just needed to get closer. Just a few feet to feel the warmth of him.

Suddenly, Izzy turned.

Her eyes locked onto mine across the crowded room. There was no surprise in her gaze. She looked... ready.

She let go of Marcus's arm and glided toward the buffet table near where I was hiding. As she passed a large potted fern, I saw her hand flick out. A thick, sealed manila envelope slid from her clutch and landed silently on the plush carpet, right near the hem of my dress.

She kept walking, disappearing into the throng of dancers.

I frowned. Had she simply let it fall?

Instinct took over-the ingrained habit of an Omega used to cleaning up after the elite. Without thinking, I crouched down and picked it up. It was heavy.

"Excuse me," I started to say, intending to chase after her to return it.

"What do you have there, Omega?"

The voice was deep, booming. A Beta warrior I recognized-one of Izzy's cousins-stepped directly into my path, blocking my exit.

"I... Miss Vance dropped this," I stammered, holding out the envelope. "I was just-"

"Did she?" The Beta snatched it from my hand with aggressive speed. He tore the seal open. His eyes widened, a performance for an audience I didn't know was watching.

"Alpha!" he roared, turning his head. "Alpha Thorne!"

The music didn't stop, but the chatter died instantly. The silence rippled outward from us like a shockwave.

Marcus turned. His golden eyes swept over the crowd and landed, with terrifying weight, on me.

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet ten degrees. He stalked toward us, the crowd parting like the Red Sea before a storm. His scent changed instantly. The fresh rain was gone, replaced by the acrid smell of burning ozone and terrifying, lethal rage.

"What is this?" Marcus demanded, his voice a low growl that vibrated in the cavity of my chest.

"I found her trying to hide this, Alpha," the Beta lied smoothly, holding up the papers. "It contains the patrol schedules for the northern border. And a complete list of our silver reserves."

Gasps rippled through the room. That was classified information. Giving that to Rogues-wolves without a pack, savage and lawless-was high treason.

"No!" I shook my head, my hands beginning to tremble violently. "No, I just picked it up! Izzy dropped it!"

"Isabelle?" Marcus looked at Izzy, who had materialized at his side. Her face was a perfect mask of shock and betrayal.

"Marcus, I..." Izzy's voice trembled with practiced precision. "I don't know what she's talking about. Why would I have those documents here? I keep them in the safe, just like you asked."

She looked at me, her eyes wide and watery. "Liv, how could you? I know you needed money for your father's medical bills, but selling us out to Rogues?"

"Liar!" I screamed, panic rising in my throat like bile. "I never-"

"Silence!" Marcus roared.

The power of his voice hit me like a physical blow to the gut. The Alpha's Command.

My vocal cords paralyzed instantly. My mouth snapped shut against my will, teeth clicking together. My inner wolf whined, cowering in the dirt of my mind, terrified of her mate's aggression.

Marcus snatched the papers. He scanned them, his face twisting into a snarl. He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw him truly look at me.

But there was no love. No recognition of the soul-bond that tied us together. Only disgust.

"You dare?" he whispered, the sound deadly soft. "You dare betray this pack? You dare use the blood of our kin to sell us to slaughter?"

He thought I was a traitor. He thought the lowest creature in his pack had sold him out.

"Kneel."

The command crashed down on my shoulders like a falling beam. I had no choice. My knees buckled, hitting the hard marble floor with a sickening crack. Tears streamed down my face, hot and fast, but I couldn't lift a hand to wipe them away. I couldn't move.

"Please," I tried to push the word through the paralysis, but it came out as a strangled, broken whimper.

Marcus towered over me, a god of vengeance. "I should kill you where you stand."

"Marcus, wait!" My father's voice rang out. I couldn't turn my head, but I heard the raw desperation in his tone. "She's innocent! She would never-"

"Hold him back," Marcus ordered without looking away from me.

I heard a scuffle, then the sickening sound of a blow and my father's pained grunt.

Izzy stepped closer to Marcus, placing a delicate hand on his heaving chest. "Marcus, don't kill her here. It will ruin the ball. Lock her up. Let's find out who she's working for first."

She looked down at me, and for a split second, her mask slipped. A cold, viper's smile curved her lips.

"Take her to the cells," Marcus commanded, his voice devoid of any warmth. "And make sure she speaks to no one."

Two warriors grabbed my arms and dragged me backward. My heels scraped uselessly against the floor. Through the blur of tears, I watched Marcus turn back to Izzy, his hand resting protectively on her waist.

He was cradling the viper and caging the dove.

As the darkness of the hallway swallowed me, my inner wolf let out a sound I had never heard before. It wasn't a growl. It was the sound of a heart breaking.

Liv POV:

The dungeon reeked of rust and stagnant despair.

I was curled in the furthest corner of a cell that was barely large enough to stand in. The floor was damp, seeping a bone-deep cold into my limbs. But it wasn't the cold that made me shake.

It was the silver.

The bars of the cell were coated in it. The shackles biting into my ankles were pure sterling. For a human, silver is just jewelry. For a wolf, it is poison. It burns on contact, a slow, sizzling heat that leeches the strength right out of your marrow.

My skin where the shackles touched was seared raw, the flesh blistering. My healing ability, usually fast like all wolves, was paralyzed.

I coughed, and the taste of copper filled my mouth. Blood.

I had been here for three days. Or maybe four. It was hard to tell in the suffocating dark.

The heavy iron door creaked open. Light flooded in, blinding me.

"Comfortable, Olivia?"

I squinted against the glare. Isabelle stood there, holding a tray. The smell wafting from it made my stomach cramp violently.

It wasn't food. It was the sickly-sweet, cloying scent of Wolfsbane.

"Go away," I rasped. My voice was wrecked from screaming for my father on the first night.

Izzy laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. She signaled the guard to leave. Once we were alone, she walked up to the bars. She didn't look like a glamorous socialite now. In the dim light, her eyes were cold and predatory.

"Marcus is so disappointed in you," she said, tilting her head. "He's upstairs right now, discussing your execution with the Elders. He thinks you're a spy for the Red River Rogues."

"You... framed me," I whispered.

"Of course I did." She shrugged elegantly. "You're an Omega, Liv. You're nothing. But you have something I want."

She leaned closer, sniffing the air. "I can smell it on you. It's faint, buried under the fear and the dirt, but it's there. That pull. You're his Mate, aren't you?"

My blood ran cold. She knew.

"He doesn't know," she continued, answering my unspoken question. "Marcus is so arrogant. He thinks his Mate would be a warrior queen. A majestic Alpha female. Not... this." She gestured to my huddled form with disgust. "He can't smell past his own prejudice."

"Why?" I asked, tears leaking from my eyes. "You have everything."

"I want to be Luna," she hissed, gripping the silver bars. Her skin sizzled slightly, but she ignored it, her ambition stronger than the pain. "And I won't let a stray dog like you ruin my destiny just because the Moon Goddess made a mistake."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial. She poured the purple liquid onto the piece of stale bread on the tray.

"Eat up, Liv. It's Wolfsbane concentrate. It won't kill you fast. It just... weakens the wolf. Makes you delirious. Confused. So when Marcus comes to interrogate you, you'll just babble nonsense. You'll look exactly like the guilty, mad traitor he thinks you are."

She slid the tray under the bars.

"If you don't eat it," she whispered, "I'll have your father removed from the Council. Maybe he'll have a nasty accident on the stairs."

She smiled, straightened her blazer, and walked out.

I stared at the bread. My body was screaming for food, but my inner wolf was howling in terror.

Don't eat it. Please, don't.

But I thought of my dad. He was the only one who had tried to stop them.

I took the bread. My hand trembled. I took a bite.

It tasted like ash and burning sugar.

Hours later, the fever took me. I lay on the stone floor, shivering violently. Hallucinations danced in the corners of my vision. I saw Marcus, but his face was melting like wax. I saw Izzy, but she had the head of a snake.

The door opened again.

"Get up."

It was Marcus.

I tried to scramble back, but my limbs felt like lead. The Wolfsbane was working. My mind was a fog.

"I didn't..." I slurred, my tongue heavy. "I didn't do it..."

Marcus looked down at me through the bars. His face was granite. Hard. Unyielding.

"You look pathetic," he spat. "High on something? Guilt, perhaps?"

"Poison," I mumbled, trying to reach for him. "Izzy... poison..."

"Isabelle has been nothing but gracious," he snapped. "She begged me to spare your life. She thinks you can be rehabilitated."

He gripped the bars. "But I don't tolerate traitors, Olivia. And I don't tolerate weaklings."

He turned to the guards behind him.

"Bring her to the courtyard. It's time to end this."

My inner wolf whimpered one last time, curling into a ball in the deepest recess of my mind. She was dying. And so was I.

Liv POV:

Rough hands dragged me from the darkness into the unforgiving sunlight.

The sudden brightness seared my retinas, blinding me. I was limp, my bare feet dragging through the sharp gravel of the pack courtyard. The fresh air should have been a relief, but my lungs were too constricted by the Wolfsbane to take it in; every breath was a shallow, burning struggle.

The entire pack had gathered. Hundreds of eyes bore into me. Watching me. Judging me.

They threw me down at the foot of the Alpha's platform. I landed hard on my injured side, coughing up a mixture of bile and blood into the dust.

Marcus towered above me. He looked like a deity of judgment, tall and terrible. Izzy stood beside him, her face composed into a carefully crafted mask of tragic sorrow. She was holding his hand.

That touch. It was a privilege that should have been mine.

Marcus stepped forward. The crowd fell into a suffocating silence.

"Olivia Hayes," his voice boomed, amplified by the crushing weight of his Alpha authority. "You have been found guilty of treason. You have conspired with Rogues to endanger the Obsidian Pack."

"No," I whispered, my denial lost in the dirt. No one heard me.

"For your crimes," Marcus continued, looking down at me with eyes as cold as the silver cuffs biting into my wrists, "I hereby strip you of your rank. You are no longer Omega. You are nothing."

That was a sentence worse than death. Being a Rogue was a death sentence, but being 'nothing' erased my very existence. Yet, what came next was the true execution.

Marcus took a deep breath. His broad chest heaved. I saw his hand twitch at his side.

Was his wolf fighting him? Did the beast know the truth even if the man refused to see it?

But Marcus was a man of iron will. He crushed his instincts beneath his duty.

He locked his gaze with mine, and I felt the bond between us stretch, taut and painful, like a violin string pulled to its breaking point.

"I, Marcus Thorne, Alpha of the Obsidian Pack, reject you, Olivia Hayes, as my mate."

The world stopped.

It wasn't a metaphor. The pain hit me like a physical shockwave. It started in my chest-a tearing, ripping sensation, as if someone had reached inside my ribcage and pulled my heart out by the roots.

My inner wolf threw back her head and screamed. A sound of pure, unadulterated agony that shattered against the inside of my skull.

NO! MATE! NO!

I convulsed on the ground, my back arching involuntarily. It felt like the marrow in my bones was dissolving. The bond, that beautiful, golden thread that had tied my soul to his, turned black and shattered.

The backlash hit Marcus, too. He staggered back, clutching his chest, a look of genuine shock crossing his features.

But Izzy was there instantly, whispering in his ear, steadying him. "It's okay, Marcus. It's just the bond breaking. It proves how deep her deception went. It proves she used dark magic to mimic the tie."

I lay gasping in the dirt, my vision greying out at the edges. I had to finish it. If I didn't complete the ritual, the lingering pain would kill me slowly over days. I had to sever it now.

I looked up at him. Through the tears and the blood, I looked at the man I had loved since I was a child. The man who had just destroyed me.

I summoned every scrap of strength remaining in my broken body.

"I, Olivia Hayes..." My voice was a broken rasp, wet with blood. "...accept your rejection."

Snap.

The connection vanished. The silence that followed was deafening. It left behind a hollow, empty void where a soul used to be.

I collapsed, darkness rushing in to claim me.

"Get her out of here!" Marcus roared, though his voice sounded strained. "Dump her at the border. If she returns, kill her."

"NO!"

A blur of motion. A feral growl.

My father, David Hayes, broke through the line of guards. He was an Elder, an older wolf, but rage had given him the speed of a warrior. He shoved a guard aside and fell to his knees beside me.

"Liv! Livvy, look at me!"

He touched my face with trembling hands. He saw the burns. He smelled the acrid stench of Wolfsbane.

He looked up at Marcus, and for the first time in his life, there was no respect in his eyes. Only hatred.

"You did this," my father snarled, gathering my broken body into his arms. "You blinded fool. You didn't just reject a traitor. You tortured your own Mate."

"She is a spy, David!" Marcus shouted, though he was leaning heavily against the podium, his face pale.

"She is my daughter!" David stood up, lifting me effortlessly. I was so horrifyingly thin now. "And I am done with this pack. I am done with you."

"If you leave with her, you are Rogue," Marcus threatened. "You lose everything, David. Your pension. Your home. Your rank."

My father looked down at me, brushing a strand of dirty hair from my face.

"I have everything I need right here."

He turned his back on the Alpha. He turned his back on the pack.

And he walked away.

As my consciousness faded completely, the last thing I saw was the moonstone. It had fallen out of my pocket during the struggle. It lay in the dirt, dull and grey-just a worthless rock.

Just like me.