The coffee in my mug had gone cold hours ago, much like the bed I’d woken up in.

Seven years. That’s how long I had been the Luna of the Silverclaw Pack. Seven years of sleeping in the guest suite while my mate, Alpha Jax Marshall, slept down the hall behind a locked door. To the pack, I was the “Iron Luna”—stoic, unshakeable, and frigid. They whispered that I was too cold to carry a pup, that my womb was as barren as my expression.

They didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know that the only thing colder than my demeanor was the secret I kept to protect their Alpha’s fragile ego.

“Luna Camille,” Beta Eugene’s voice grated on my nerves, pulling me back to the present. We were in the conference room, the morning sun highlighting the dust motes dancing over the heavy oak table. “As I was saying, the budget for the border patrols needs to be increased. Again.”

I looked at the spreadsheet in front of me. “Eugene, we increased the patrol budget by fifteen percent last month. Where is that money going? The receipts don’t match the requisition forms.”

Eugene leaned back, a smug smile playing on his lips. He was a greasy man, his ambition wearing him like a cheap suit. “Security isn’t cheap, Luna. Perhaps if you spent less time scrutinizing pennies and more time focusing on… domestic matters, the Alpha wouldn’t be so stressed.”

The insult was veiled, but sharp. *Domestic matters.* Code for: *Why haven’t you given us an heir?*

I kept my face perfectly smooth. “My husband’s stress levels are managed just fine, Beta. Your inability to account for ten thousand dollars, however, is a stress I will not ignore. Audit the logs. Or I will.”

I stood up, signaling the end of the meeting. As I gathered my files, the door opened and Jax walked in. He looked tired, dark circles bruising the skin under his eyes. His aura, usually a crushing weight, felt brittle today.

“Jax,” I said softly. I reached out instinctively to brush a piece of lint from his dark blazer.

He flinched.

It wasn’t just a step back; it was a violent recoil, his whole body seizing as if I were holding a branding iron. He stumbled into the doorframe, his breath hitching.

“Don’t,” he hissed, his eyes wide with panic before they hardened into anger. “I told you, Camille. Give me space.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I forced it down. Eugene was watching, his eyes gleaming with malicious amusement.

“My apologies, Alpha,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ll leave you to your business.”

I walked out with my head high, but inside, I was bleeding. It was the condition. The curse. Whatever you wanted to call it. Jax’s wolf rejected the touch of any female. It caused him physical agony. We hadn’t touched in seven years. No marking. No mating. Just a sham marriage held together by my silence and his shame.

I needed air. I headed toward the mess hall for lunch, hoping the noise of the pack would drown out the ringing in my ears. The cafeteria was bustling. Pups were running between tables, and the smell of roasted chicken filled the air.

Then, the chatter stopped.

The silence rippled outward from the serving station like a wave. I followed the collective gaze of two hundred wolves.

Jax had entered the mess hall. Beside him was the new intern, Ezra Ramirez. She was small, with wide, innocent doe eyes and a scent that was sickly sweet—like vanilla dipped in syrup. She was laughing at something he said, walking too close.

Suddenly, Ezra tripped over her own feet. It was clumsy, almost theatrical. She pitched forward, right into Jax’s chest.

I froze. I waited for the flinch. I waited for Jax to shove her away, to double over in pain, to roar at her for daring to make contact.

It never happened.

Jax caught her. His large hands gripped her waist firmly, stabilizing her. He didn’t recoil. He didn’t wince. Instead, he leaned in, his nose burying itself in the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply, a shudder running through his massive frame—not of pain, but of… relief.

“Careful,” Jax murmured, his voice a low rumble that carried across the silent room. He didn't let go. His thumb caressed the fabric of her shirt.

Ezra looked up at him through her lashes, her cheeks flushing pink. “Thank you, Alpha. I’m so clumsy.”

A murmur broke out across the hall. *He touched her.* *Did you see that?* *The Alpha touched her.*

I felt like the floor had opened up beneath me. For seven years, I had lived like a nun, guarding a man who couldn't be touched, only to watch him hold another woman in the middle of the pack house. The humiliation was a physical blow to the gut.

I turned on my heel and marched out before anyone could see the Iron Luna crack.

I went straight to his office. My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I needed to know. Was he cured? Had the doctors finally found a solution, and he just hadn’t told me? Or was she… was she his *true* mate?

I tore through the filing cabinets. I told myself I was looking for Eugene’s missing ledgers, but my hands were shaking too hard for math. I checked the safe. Nothing. I checked the bottom drawer of his mahogany desk.

Buried under a stack of old territory maps, I found a crumpled receipt from a pharmacy two towns over.

*Prenatal vitamins.*

My breath hitched. I dug deeper, my fingernails scraping against the wood. There, wrapped in a tissue at the very back of the drawer, was a plastic stick.

Two pink lines.

A positive pregnancy test.

The world tilted on its axis. The silence of the room screamed at me. Jax wasn’t just cured. He wasn’t just touching her. He had broken the one sacred vow we had left. He had slept with her.

The Iron Luna didn’t cry. But as I stared at that little plastic stick, I realized the iron was rusting, and the woman underneath was ready to scream.

The plastic stick felt like a burning coal in my hand, yet my fingers refused to let go. When the office door creaked open, I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The air suddenly grew heavy, charged with the ozone scent of Alpha power.

“Jax,” I said, my voice trembling not with fear, but with a rage so cold it burned. I turned slowly, holding the pregnancy test up to the light. “Explain this.”

Jax stopped in the center of the room. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t look ashamed. He looked… relieved. He walked to his desk, bypassing me entirely as if I were a piece of furniture.

“It is exactly what it looks like, Camille,” he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “It is the future of the Silverclaw Pack. Something you failed to provide for seven years.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “Failed? You haven’t touched me in seven years! You told me it was agony. You told me your wolf would kill me if you tried!”

“And it would have,” he snapped, finally meeting my eyes. His gaze was hard, devoid of the affection he used to fake so well. “But with Ezra… it is different. She is my cure. The Moon Goddess sent her to me. She is my True Fated Mate.”

“So I was just a placeholder?” I stepped forward, my voice rising. “I protected your secret. I let the pack call me barren. I let your mother spit on my name to keep you safe! And you—”

“Enough!”

The command slammed into me like a physical blow. He used the Alpha Tone. My wolf whimpered in submission, forcing my knees to buckle. I caught myself on the edge of the desk, gasping for air as the supernatural weight of his order crushed my vocal cords shut.

Jax leaned in close, his face inches from mine. “You are the Luna by law, Camille. But Ezra? She is the Luna by blood. She carries my heir. You will not ruin this. You will play your part.”

The humiliation was a bitter pill, but I swallowed it. I had no choice.

Two days later, the preparation for the Annual Alpha Summit was a blur of silk and hairspray. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the master suite—a room I was rarely invited into. I reached for the velvet box on the vanity, my fingers brushing the cool latch. Inside were the Silverclaw Ceremonial Emeralds, a heavy necklace worn by every Luna for five generations.

“Not those,” Jax’s voice cut through the silence.

I froze. “These are the Luna’s jewels, Jax. Tradition dictates—”

“Tradition dictates that the mother of the future Alpha wears the protection of the pack.” He snatched the box from my hand and turned to the chaise lounge where Ezra sat, looking small and wide-eyed in a gown of shimmering gold.

“Ezra needs to test the weight,” Jax said, walking over to her. He looked back at me, his eyes cold. “Help her with the clasp, Camille. Your fingers are nimble.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. He wanted me to dress his mistress in my jewels.

“Of course, Alpha,” I whispered, the taste of ash in my mouth.

I walked over to Ezra. She smelled of vanilla and artificial sweetness. As I fastened the heavy emeralds around her neck, she looked up at me in the mirror. Her lips curled into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s so heavy, Luna Camille,” she cooed, touching the gems. “I don’t know how you bore it for so long.”

“You get used to the weight,” I said stiffly, pulling my hands away as if burned. “Just don’t trip.”

The Summit was held in a sprawling ballroom in the neutral territory of the capital. Chandeliers dripped crystals from the ceiling, and the air buzzed with the power of fifty gathered Alphas. I walked a step behind Jax, my neck bare, while Ezra walked on his arm, the emeralds glittering at her throat.

We sat at the front table. I could feel the eyes of the other packs on us. Whispers traveled like wildfire. *Why is the Luna unadorned? Who is the girl?*

Then came the auction. It was a charity event, a display of wealth and power. The auctioneer unveiled the final item: a rare Moonstone necklace, said to bless the wearer with fertility and safe childbirth.

“Bidding starts at five hundred thousand,” the auctioneer announced.

“One million,” Jax’s voice rang out instantly.

I grabbed his arm under the table. “Jax,” I hissed. “Eugene said the border patrol budget was tight. We cannot afford—”

“Two million,” a rival Alpha called out.

Jax shook off my hand. “Five million.”

The room gasped. Five million dollars. That was half our liquid assets. Money we needed for winter supplies, for the infirmary, for the pack.

“Sold! To Alpha Marshall of the Silverclaw Pack!”

Jax stood up, striding to the stage to collect the box. He didn’t return to his seat immediately. Instead, he took the microphone. The room fell silent.

“This pack has waited a long time for a future,” Jax announced, his voice booming with pride. He turned and beckoned Ezra to the stage. She floated up the stairs, feigning shyness.

Jax opened the box, revealing the glowing moonstone. In front of the entire council, in front of Alpha Makenna Davis of the Blood Moon Pack who watched with narrowed, pitying eyes, Jax clasped the necklace around Ezra’s neck, right above my emeralds.

“To Ezra,” Jax declared, raising a glass of champagne. “To the true mate of my soul, and the mother of the future Alpha.”

The applause was polite, confused, scattered. But the ringing in my ears was deafening. He hadn’t just bought a necklace. He had publicly declared me obsolete. I sat frozen in my chair, the Iron Luna rusting into dust, while the man I had protected for seven years sold our pack’s safety to adorn the woman who was stealing my life.

The limousine was silent, a luxurious coffin speeding down the wet highway. Outside, the rain blurred the world into streaks of gray, but inside, the air was thick enough to choke on. I sat pressed against the cold window, trying to ignore the way Ezra toyed with the five-million-dollar Moonstone necklace draped over her throat. My throat.

Jax sat between us, but his body was angled entirely toward her. His hand rested protectively on her stomach, his thumb tracing circles over the silk of her dress.

“Are you warm enough?” he murmured, his voice softer than I had heard it in years.

“I’m fine, Alpha,” Ezra cooed, shooting a glance at me. “Though the heater seems a bit… weak.”

I gritted my teeth. “The climate control is set to seventy-two, Ezra. Perhaps it’s the weight of the jewelry dragging you down.”

Jax’s head snapped toward me, a growl rumbling in his chest, but before he could speak, the driver shouted.

“Rogue!”

A massive, mangy wolf leaped from the embankment, landing directly in our headlights. The driver swerved hard to the left. The tires screeched, losing traction on the slick asphalt.

The world flipped.

Metal screamed against pavement. Glass shattered in an explosion of diamonds. My body was thrown like a ragdoll, slamming against the roof, then the door, then the roof again as the car rolled down the steep embankment.

When we finally came to a halt, the silence was more terrifying than the noise.

I was upside down. The seatbelt cut into my chest, and warm, sticky blood trickled into my eye from a gash on my forehead. My ribs screamed in protest with every shallow breath. I tried to move, but my legs were pinned beneath the crushed metal of the front seat.

“Jax?” I croaked, the taste of copper filling my mouth. “Jax, are you okay?”

I heard a grunt, then the sound of metal tearing. Jax, his Alpha strength surging despite the crash, kicked his door open. He crawled out, stumbling into the muddy grass.

“Jax! I’m trapped!” I screamed, panic rising as I smelled the acrid scent of leaking fuel. Smoke began to curl through the vents. “Jax, help me!”

He looked through the shattered window. Our eyes met. For a second, I thought he was reaching for me.

Then, a whimper came from the other side of the car.

“My baby… Jax, the baby…” Ezra sobbed.

Without a word, Jax turned his back on me. He scrambled over the chassis to the other side. I watched, paralyzed with horror, as he ripped the rear door off its hinges with a roar of effort. He reached in, unbuckling Ezra with frantic, trembling hands. She didn’t look hurt—scared, yes, but whole.

“I’ve got you,” he panted, pulling her into his arms. “I’ve got you, Ezra.”

“Jax!” I screamed again, the smoke thickening, stinging my eyes. “The fuel tank! Jax, please!”

He didn’t look back. He sprinted away from the wreckage, shielding Ezra’s body with his own, leaving me pinned in the dark.

A spark ignited.

Orange flames licked up the side of the car. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the fire to consume me, realizing with absolute clarity that my mate had left me to burn.

*Hiss.*

White foam exploded from the ceiling vents. The emergency fire suppression system kicked in, coating me in freezing chemical slush. It choked the flames just inches from my face, leaving me shivering, broken, and utterly alone in the wreckage.

***

The hospital room was blindingly white. The steady beep of the monitor was the only thing grounding me to reality. My chest was wrapped tightly in bandages, and my skin felt raw and tender from the chemical burns.

The door banged open.

My heart leaped, thinking it was a doctor, but it was Jax. He looked wild, his hair disheveled, soot still smearing his cheek. He marched to the side of my bed, not asking how I was, not looking at the burns on my arms.

“You need to get up,” he demanded.

I stared at him, disbelief numbing the physical pain. “I have three broken ribs, Jax. I have chemical burns because you left me in a burning car.”

“Ezra is in distress,” he snapped, his eyes flashing with Wolf gold. “The crash… the stress… the doctor says there’s a risk to the heir. She’s cramping.”

“That’s unfortunate,” I rasped, my voice cold. “But I am not a doctor.”

“No, but you are a battery,” he growled.

He grabbed my wrist. A jolt of pain shot up my arm, but he didn’t let go.

“I know what you can do, Camille. I’ve seen you do it with the wounded sentries, even if you try to hide it. You have a reserve of vitality. A strange… healing hum.”

I tried to pull away. It was true—I had a dormant ability, a warmth in my blood that could soothe minor wounds, though I didn’t understand where it came from. But using it drained me, left me exhausted for days. In my current state, it could kill me.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “Jax, look at me. I’m barely holding on. If I give her energy now, my heart—”

“I don’t care about your heart!” he roared, the sound vibrating through my bones. “I care about my son! You failed to give me one, so you will save the one she carries!”

The air in the room grew heavy, crushing. The Alpha aura descended like a lead blanket.

“I command you,” he boomed, his voice layering with the supernatural weight of the Alpha Tone. “**Heal her.**”

My wolf whined in submission, betraying me. My body moved without my permission. I tried to scream, to fight the order, but my limbs felt like they belonged to a puppet master.

Jax dragged me out of the bed. I stumbled, gasping as my broken ribs ground together. He marched me down the hall, my bare feet slapping against the cold tile, trailing IV lines that ripped from my skin.

We entered Ezra’s suite. She was lying on a plush bed, scrolling on her phone, looking perfectly fine. When we entered, she quickly dropped the phone and clutched her stomach, putting on a face of agony.

“Jax, it hurts,” she whimpered.

Jax shoved me toward her. “Do it, Camille. Now.”

My hands shook as I hovered them over her stomach. I could feel the command squeezing my throat, forcing me to push. I reached deep inside, finding that small, flickering flame of life that kept me going.

And I gave it away.

I felt the energy leave me in a rush, a golden warmth flowing from my palms into Ezra. Her skin flushed with health, her eyes brightening, while I felt coldness seep into my marrow. My vision blurred. The edges of the room went black.

Ezra sighed in contentment, the *supposed* cramps vanishing instantly.

My knees hit the floor. The last thing I heard before the darkness swallowed me whole was Jax’s voice, soft and tender.

“Is the baby safe, my love?”

He didn’t even hear the sound of my body hitting the linoleum.