I dropped the three leather-bound ledgers onto the mahogany dining table. The heavy thud rattled the silver spoons in their porcelain bowls.

"Open the first one," I told Elara.

She sat rigidly in the high-backed chair. She wore one of Kaelen's oversized gray shirts, the collar slipping off her frail shoulder to reveal a fresh bite mark on her collarbone.

I ignored it.

"Page forty," I instructed. "We start with the winter grain distribution."

Elara stared at the towering stack of books. "I... I don't know numbers very well."

"You don't need to calculate anything today. You just need to read the headings," I said, tapping the top cover. "Alpha Kaelen ordered me to train you. Read."

"It's too much," she whimpered, shrinking away from the table.

"It is the bare minimum," I countered. "The Luna feeds three hundred wolves. If you can't read a ledger, they starve."

She reached out with a trembling hand. Her fingers fumbled with the heavy leather cover. She turned one thick page. Then a second.

Her elbow jerked sideways. It caught the edge of her mug.

Hot milk flooded across the polished wood. The white liquid pooled directly over the open book, soaking instantly into the thick parchment.

"Oh, no!" Elara shrieked, jumping out of her seat. "I'm sorry!"

I stared at the ruined page. The black ink bled into a useless gray smear. The winter reserve fund. Three months of my precise calculations, erased in a single second.

Heavy footfalls pounded down the hallway.

Kaelen burst through the dining room archway. He didn't look at the table. He didn't check the dripping milk. He crossed the room in three massive strides and hauled Elara against his chest.

"Are you burned?" he demanded, inspecting her bare arms.

"I made a mess," she sobbed, burying her face into his shirt. "I ruined her book. She's going to hurt me."

Kaelen whipped his head toward me. His jaw locked tight.

"What is wrong with you, Seraphina?" he barked.

"She spilled her drink on the territory's financial records," I answered, keeping my tone perfectly flat.

"She is an Omega who spent her life surviving in the wild!" he yelled. "You slam complex financial data in front of an uneducated girl on her first morning here, just to make her feel stupid?"

"You told me to train her to take my place," I reminded him. "Lunas manage the treasury. If she cannot handle paper, she cannot handle the pack."

"I didn't mean to!" Elara cried, clutching his waist. "She just slammed them down. She looked so angry, Alpha. I told you she wouldn't accept me."

"Hate requires effort," I stated. "I simply expect competence."

"Competence?" Kaelen repeated, his eyes blazing. "She lived in the feral lands for three years. She survived on scraps. You sit in a heated manor and judge her for not knowing high-society mathematics?"

"I judge her for knocking over a cup," I replied. "Gravity works the same in the feral lands, does it not?"

"You did this to humiliate her," Kaelen accused.

"I gave her a book."

"You set a trap!" he roared, his voice shaking the glass chandelier above us.

He took a half-step backward, tucking Elara securely behind his broad shoulder. He shielded her from me. As if I were the threat. As if I were the monster in his home.

That tiny movement snapped a vital wire inside my head.

The agonizing, tearing pain of our broken mate bond vanished. The bleeding wound in my chest hollowed out. In its place, a freezing, morbid clarity settled over my mind.

I leaned over the table. I pinched the corner of the soaked parchment and tore it violently from the binding.

A loud rip echoed in the dining room. White milk and gray ink dripped onto the floorboards, splashing against the toes of my shoes.

"What are you doing?" Kaelen warned, his eyes narrowing.

I didn't answer. I walked past them to the roaring fireplace. I tossed the ruined ledger page directly into the flames.

The fire flared up instantly. Orange light danced across my face, baking my skin. I watched the paper curl, turn black, and turn to ash.

It wasn't just the winter budget burning in the hearth. It was the last, pathetic shred of hope I had harbored for this marriage. The illusion that Kaelen might realize his mistake was gone. Reduced to cinders.

Kaelen scoffed. "A tantrum doesn't suit you, Seraphina."

He stepped closer to me.

His scent washed over my face.

Pine and snow. It used to ground me. It used to mean safety. But today, a sickeningly sweet floral stench coated it—Elara's pheromones, rubbed deep into his clothes, his skin, his very pores. The smell of their night together clung to him like a second skin.

My stomach violently convulsed.

I clamped a hand over my mouth. A harsh, dry heave wracked my chest, forcing me to bend forward.

"Seraphina?" Kaelen’s expression shifted. His brows pulled together in sudden confusion. He reached a hand out. "Are you ill?"

I swatted his hand away before he could make contact.

"Don't touch me," I choked out.

I swallowed hard, forcing the bile back down my throat. I refused to vomit in front of them. I refused to give them another ounce of my dignity.

"Class is dismissed," I rasped.

I turned my back on my husband and his terrified new mate, marching straight out the side door.

The biting morning frost hit my face. I didn't grab a coat. I didn't stop moving until the stone manor disappeared behind the thick tree line.

The dead woods bordered the northern edge of the territory. Black, leafless branches clawed at the gray sky, offering no shelter from the biting wind. The snow crunched loudly beneath my feet.

I stopped next to a rotting oak tree.

I reached into the pocket of my slacks and pulled out a small, tightly rolled parchment. I flattened it against the rough bark.

A crimson crescent moon totem glared back at me.

It was an old symbol. A forbidden one.

I drew a silver hunting knife from my belt. I pressed the sharp edge to my left palm and sliced a clean line across the flesh.

Hot blood welled to the surface, bright and stark against the freezing air. I held my hand over the parchment, letting three heavy red drops hit the exact center of the crescent moon.

The blood soaked into the symbol, turning the faded crimson into a brilliant, wet ruby red.

A rustling sound near my boots caught my attention.

At the base of the oak lay a crow. Its neck was snapped at a brutal angle, its black feathers stiff with morning frost.

I knelt in the snow, ignoring the sharp cold seeping through my pants. I folded the blood-stained parchment into a tiny, tight square.

I pried open the dead bird's frozen beak. The beak cracked slightly under the pressure. I shoved the paper deep down its throat, past its stiff tongue.

"Find him," I whispered to the empty woods.

"Take another sack," Elara announced, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the central storehouse. "No one in Alpha Kaelen’s pack will go hungry tonight."

A cheer erupted from the gathering of lower-class wolves.

I stood in the shadows of the arched doorway, my pen scratching rapidly across the pages of my pocket notebook.

"Luna," Torin, the head vault guard, whispered beside me. "She is emptying the third silo."

"I can count, Torin," I replied, noting the missing tonnage.

"Should I lock the gates?" he asked, his hand dropping to the iron ring of keys at his belt. "We need this grain to survive February."

"Leave the gates open."

"But Luna—"

"I am not the Luna anymore," I corrected. "She is."

Torin stared at me, his jaw tightening. "She gave away three months of reserves in an hour."

"Then note the shortage in the official log," I instructed, snapping the small leather book shut. "And make sure you spell her name correctly."

Across the courtyard, Elara spotted me. She dropped a burlap sack into a grateful elder’s arms and jogged over, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Seraphina!" she called out, stopping a few feet away. "Did you see? I’m doing what you asked. I’m managing the people."

"You are handing out winter rations in November," I stated.

"They were cold," she argued, crossing her arms. "Alpha Kaelen said a true leader shows compassion. I’m showing them they matter."

"You definitely showed them something," I agreed.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you mad because they like me more than you?"

A sharp laugh escaped my throat. Torin flinched. Elara stepped back, her bravado faltering.

"I am thrilled for you, Elara," I told her. "You are doing an exceptional job. Keep distributing."

"I will," she shot back, lifting her chin. "I’ll feed the whole lower sector."

"Make sure you do."

I turned my back on the empty silos and walked away. Let her give it all away. Let Kaelen wake up to a starving territory. I was done fixing his mistakes.

The transition from afternoon to midnight brought a freezing rain that turned the northern woods into a black, slick nightmare.

I stood at the edge of the Blackwater River. The rushing current roared over jagged rocks, marking the absolute boundary of our lands.

Across the churning water lay the forbidden zone. The territory of Silas. The mateless Lycan King.

I pulled a heavy iron tube from the inside pocket of my wool coat. Inside rested the master defense blueprints for Kaelen’s entire territory. Every patrol route. Every blind spot. Five years of my strategic planning, rolled into a single parchment.

"Traitor," a voice hissed in my mind.

It wasn't Kaelen. It was the mate bond.

A violent spasm ripped through my chest. The mystical tether recognized my treason. It punished me instantly, squeezing my heart until my vision went white.

I collapsed.

My knees slammed into the freezing mud. Cold sweat instantly soaked through my shirt, plastering the fabric to my spine. I dug my fingers into the wet earth, fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit.

"Submit," the bond demanded, sending a fresh wave of agony down my arms. "Return to your Alpha."

"Never," I gasped out loud.

My hands shook violently. I forced my numb fingers to unscrew the iron cap. I checked the wax seal on the blueprints one last time.

Perfectly intact.

I shoved the parchment back inside and twisted the cap tight.

The bond flared again, a searing white-hot pain behind my eyes. It demanded loyalty. It demanded I protect my husband’s borders.

I dragged myself forward through the muck. The freezing water lapped at my boots.

"Take it," I whispered to the dark river.

I thrust my arm forward and dropped the iron tube into the rushing current.

It sank instantly, swallowed by the black water, destined for the Lycan King’s shores.

The moment the metal disappeared beneath the surface, the agonizing pressure in my chest vanished. The bond’s punishment broke.

A rush of icy, clear air filled my lungs. I inhaled deeply, the most flawless breath I had taken in days. I didn't feel guilt. I didn't feel fear.

A pure, unadulterated urge to destroy everything Kaelen loved washed over me. I smiled, letting a dark chuckle slip past my lips while kneeling in the freezing mud.

"You find treason amusing?" a deep, gravelly voice asked.

The sound didn't come from across the river. It came from directly above me.

I froze.

A pair of massive black military boots stepped into my line of sight.

The air around me instantly turned to ice. A suffocating aura of pure dominance slammed down on my shoulders, pinning me to the mud. The scent of crushed pine needles and raw gunpowder flooded my senses, so intense it burned the back of my throat.

This wasn't an Alpha.

This was a monster.

Before I could scramble backward, a large hand clad in black leather clamped around my jaw.

The grip was unyielding. The leather creaked as thick fingers dug into my cheeks, forcing my head up.

I stared into eyes the color of liquid mercury.

"Well?" the Lycan King demanded, his thumb tracing the corner of my mouth. "Are you going to answer me, little wolf?"