I was arranging fresh sunflowers in the living room—Mae's favorite—when I heard the commotion at the pack house entrance. Voices carried through the hallway, one in particular making my wolf stir uneasily within me.

"She's back," whispered my wolf, Sera, her voice laced with warning.

I set down the vase and moved toward the sound, my heart pounding against my ribs. The pack house was usually quiet this time of afternoon, with Robert handling business matters in his office and Mae at school. But today felt different.

The moment I turned the corner, I saw her—Melanie King—standing in our foyer like she belonged there. Her honey-blonde hair fell in perfect waves around her shoulders, and despite her claimed illness, she looked radiant. Robert stood beside her, his hand resting protectively on her lower back.

"Siena," Robert said, his voice carrying that formal tone he used when addressing pack members rather than his mate. "Look who's returned to us."

Melanie's eyes met mine, a smile playing on her lips that never quite reached her eyes. "Hello, Siena. It's been too long."

My wolf bristled. "Too long since she tried to claim what's ours," Sera growled.

I swallowed hard, forcing my face into a neutral expression. "Welcome back to Moonstone Pack, Melanie."

Robert's fingers tightened on Melanie's waist. "Melanie isn't just visiting. She's come home."

The way he said "home" made my stomach twist. This was my home—mine and Mae's and Robert's. Not hers.

"There's something you should know," Robert continued, his eyes darting to Melanie's pale face. "Melanie is sick. Very sick."

Melanie's performance was flawless—she swayed slightly, her hand fluttering to her chest. "I didn't want to burden anyone, but..."

"Kidney failure," Robert finished for her, his voice tight with concern. "She needs a transplant immediately."

I watched as Melanie leaned into Robert's embrace, her eyes closing briefly. "The doctors gave me weeks, maybe less," she whispered. "I just wanted to see Robert one last time."

The calculation behind her words was so transparent it made my skin crawl. Yet Robert nodded, his expression grave with worry.

"You'll stay here," he said, not a question but a command. "We'll find a donor."

---

Over the next few days, Robert barely left Melanie's side. He canceled pack meetings, missed Mae's school play, and ate dinner in Melanie's room rather than with his family.

I found him there one evening, sitting beside her bed while she sipped broth from a spoon he held.

"You remember that summer by the lake?" Melanie was saying, her voice soft and nostalgic. "When you promised we'd be together forever?"

Robert's eyes softened in a way I hadn't seen in months. "I remember everything, Mel."

My throat tightened as I watched them through the doorway. This was a side of Robert I'd never seen—gentle, attentive, completely captivated.

"I'm afraid," Melanie whispered, reaching for his hand. "Not of dying, but of never experiencing true happiness again."

Robert squeezed her fingers. "You will. I promise."

I backed away silently, my heart cracking with each step.

Later that night, when Robert finally came to our bedroom, he didn't touch me. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.

"Melanie needs me," he said simply.

"And what about Mae?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "She needs her father."

His jaw tightened. "This is bigger than that."

---

"Mrs. Alpha," Elena Martinez said, her hands trembling as she closed her medical file. "I've completed the compatibility tests."

I sat across from her in the pack hospital, Mae's small hand in mine. Robert stood by the window, his back to us, while Melanie lay on the examination table, her eyes closed as if sleeping.

"And?" Robert demanded, turning sharply.

Elena's eyes darted to Melanie before meeting Robert's gaze. "Melanie's condition is critical. Without a transplant in the next few days..."

She didn't finish the sentence.

"Who's compatible?" Robert asked.

Elena swallowed hard. "Two perfect matches have been identified."

I felt Mae's hand tighten in mine.

"Siena," Elena said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And... and Mae."

The room went silent. I stared at Elena, trying to read her expression. There was something there—fear? Guilt?

"This is good news," Robert said, relief evident in his voice. "We can proceed immediately."

But Elena's eyes were fixed on mine, pleading. "Alpha Robert, perhaps we should discuss this privately. There are... complications."

"Complications?" I echoed, my arms instinctively wrapping around Mae.

Before Elena could answer, Melanie stirred on the table, her eyes fluttering open. "Is it true?" she asked weakly. "Will I live?"

I watched as Elena's face crumpled, as if she were fighting some internal battle. Finally, she nodded.

"Yes," she said, the word hanging heavy in the air. "But there's something you should know first."

I clutched Mae's small hand tighter as Robert's eyes darkened with that familiar alpha glow. The pack hospital waiting room had fallen silent, all eyes on us—their Luna and her pup being evaluated as if we were nothing more than spare parts.

"Robert, please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "There must be other donors. Other options. Mae is just a child."

Melanie lay on the examination table, her face a perfect mask of suffering. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her eyes glistening with tears that never quite fell. "I never wanted this."

Robert's jaw tightened as he stepped closer to us. "This isn't up for discussion, Siena."

"It's my body," I said, louder now, aware of the pack members watching. "And Mae is my daughter."

"She's my daughter too," Robert snapped, his alpha aura flaring. "And as Alpha of this pack, I make the decisions."

Elena stood frozen beside her medical equipment, her hands trembling slightly. I caught the flicker of something in her eyes—guilt? Fear?

"Alpha Robert," she began hesitantly, "perhaps we should consider—"

"Silence!" Robert's voice cracked like a whip. "Prepare them both for surgery. Now."

The word hung in the air between us, heavy with authority. I felt it pressing down on me, the alpha command settling into my bones like ice.

"No," I gasped, fighting against it. "Robert, don't do this."

But he was already turning away, his hand resting gently on Melanie's shoulder. "It's decided."

I watched as pack members filed out of the room, their expressions ranging from pity to judgment. None of them would meet my eyes.

"Mommy?" Mae's voice was small, frightened. "Are you okay?"

I forced a smile for her sake. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Don't worry."

But inside, Sera was howling with rage and fear. "He's using his alpha command on us! On his own family!"

The command settled deeper, making my limbs heavy. I couldn't fight it—no wolf could fight their alpha's direct order.

---

The operating room was cold and bright. I lay on one table while Mae was on another, separated by a curtain that did little to muffle the sounds from her side.

"Mommy?" Mae called, her voice trembling. "I'm scared."

"I'm here," I managed, though the alpha command made even speaking difficult. "Everything will be fine."

Through the gap in the curtain, I saw Melanie watching me, her eyes calculating despite her weakened state. She leaned close to Elena, whispering something that made the healer's face pale.

"Wait," I tried to say, but the command forced me to lie still as Elena approached with a syringe.

"This will help you relax," she murmured, her eyes avoiding mine.

I saw her glance at Melanie, who nodded slightly.

"What about Mae?" I asked desperately. "Will she be okay?"

Elena's hands trembled as she prepared another syringe. "She'll... she'll be taken care of."

The drugs pulled me under before I could ask more.

---

I drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of pain and voices.

"Is it done?" Melanie's voice, stronger than it had been in days.

"Yes," Elena whispered. "Her kidney is prepped for transport as you requested."

"And the child?"

A pause. "I did as you asked. The wound isn't properly sealed. She won't... she won't survive the night."

A soft laugh from Melanie. "Perfect. Robert will be devastated, but he'll need someone to comfort him. And soon enough, you'll have your payment."

I tried to scream, to move, but my body wouldn't respond. The alpha command still held me in its grip.

---

When I finally woke fully, the hospital room was dim and quiet. My side throbbed with pain, but something worse gripped my heart—a terrible emptiness.

"Mae?" I called weakly.

No answer.

I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the stabbing pain. The bed beside mine was empty, the sheets neatly made.

"Where's my daughter?" I demanded as a nurse entered.

Her eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm sorry, Luna Siena."

Those three words told me everything. The room spun around me as I struggled to breathe.

"No," I whispered. "No, no, no."

The door opened again, and pack members began filing in—their faces solemn, judgmental.

"The Luna couldn't even protect her own pup," someone murmured.

"Maybe she never deserved to be Luna."

"If she were truly worthy, the Moon Goddess would have protected the pup."

Their words cut deeper than any knife could have. I curled into myself, my arms wrapping around the empty space where Mae should have been.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard Robert's anguished howl—too late to save our daughter, too late to undo what he had done.

And somewhere deeper inside me, something broke beyond repair.

The hospital room was silent except for the steady beep of monitors. I stared at the ceiling, counting the tiles as tears slid silently down my temples into my hair. My body ached from the surgery, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow emptiness in my chest.

"Mae?" I whispered again, though I knew there would be no answer.

The door opened, and a nurse entered—not to check on me, but to collect more of my belongings. Her eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"Where's my daughter?" I asked, my voice cracking.

She busied herself with gathering my robe. "I'm just following orders, Luna."

"Where is she?" I demanded, forcing myself to sit up despite the stabbing pain in my side.

The nurse finally looked at me, her expression a mixture of pity and judgment. "The pup didn't make it through the night. I'm sorry."

Didn't make it. Such clinical words for something so devastating.

"When?" I whispered.

"Several hours ago. Alpha Robert has been... comforted by Melanie's recovery."

The way she said it—like Melanie's survival somehow balanced out Mae's death—made my wolf snarl within me.

"Get out," I said quietly.

She hurried from the room, leaving me alone with my grief.

---

Three days later, I was released from the hospital. No one came to fetch me—not Robert, not even a pack driver. I made my way back to the pack house alone, each step sending pain through my still-healing incision.

As I approached the main entrance, I heard laughter from inside—warm, genuine laughter that made my skin crawl. I pushed open the door to find Robert and Melanie seated in the living room, surrounded by get-well gifts. Pack members hovered around them like orbiting planets.

"Siena," Robert said, noticing me. His voice held none of the warmth it once did. "You should be resting."

I stood frozen in the doorway, taking in the scene. Melanie sat in my usual chair, wearing one of my shawls around her shoulders. Her hand rested on Robert's arm as she smiled up at him.

"Where is Mae?" I asked, my voice loud enough to cut through their conversation.

The room fell silent.

"Everyone out," Robert commanded, and the pack members filed past me, their eyes averted.

When we were alone, Robert stood. "You know where she is."

"I want her ashes," I said, stepping forward. "Now."

Robert's eyes narrowed. "That's not how we do things in this pack. The Alpha decides—"

"I don't care what you decide anymore," I cut him off, my voice surprisingly steady despite the storm raging inside me. "I am taking my daughter's remains, and then I am rejecting you as my mate."

The words hung in the air between us. Robert's face paled.

"You can't—"

"I can," I said, feeling Sera rise within me, lending me strength. "I, Siena Carroll, reject you, Robert Tucker, as my mate."

Melanie gasped from her chair. "You can't do that!"

I turned to her, seeing for the first time the calculation behind her concern. "Watch me."

Robert's alpha aura flared, filling the room with pressure that made my knees weak. But I stood firm.

"Get out of my sight," he growled.

"This was my home first," I reminded him. "And I want Mae's ashes. Now."

---

I waited in the pack cemetery as the sun set. Elena Martinez approached, her hands trembling as she clutched a small urn.

"Luna Siena," she whispered, her eyes darting around as if expecting to be caught. "I shouldn't be here."

"You're the only one who's shown me any kindness," I said softly, reaching for the urn.

Elena hesitated before placing it in my hands. "There's something you should know."

I looked up at her, waiting.

"Your daughter..." Elena's voice broke. "Her death wasn't from surgical complications."

My fingers tightened around the urn. "What do you mean?"

"Melanie ordered me to leave the wound unsealed." Elena's eyes filled with tears. "She said... she said the child was in the way."

The world seemed to stop. "What?"

"During the surgery, she made me leave Mae's wound partially open." Elena's hands shook violently now. "I tried to fix it afterward, but it was too late."

I stared at her, unable to process what she was telling me.

"She's been selling organs to rogue networks," Elena continued, her voice barely audible. "Yours and Mae's kidneys were never meant for her."

My wolf howled within me, a sound of pure rage and grief that threatened to tear through my human form.

"Why are you telling me this now?" I asked, my voice deadly calm despite the storm inside me.

Elena's eyes met mine, filled with guilt and fear. "Because a healer should never cause harm. And because no one deserves what happened to your daughter."

As she walked away, leaving me alone with Mae's ashes and the truth of her murder, I felt something shift inside me—a resolve hardening like steel in fire.

Melanie had taken everything from me. But she had forgotten one thing: a grieving mother is the most dangerous creature of all.