The pack hospital smelled like antiseptic and lies.

I pushed through the double doors with Buster's prescription clutched in my hand—a simple arthritis medication I could've made myself if Ember hadn't burned my entire laboratory's worth of supplies. My fingers still bore faint burn marks from trying to salvage what I could from the flames.

The hallway was chaos. Construction workers hauled equipment past me, their boots tracking dust across floors I used to keep pristine. The sound of drills and hammering echoed off the walls, making my already-pounding head throb worse.

I stopped dead when I reached the trauma ward.

My trauma ward. The one I'd designed after three years of research. The one I'd funded by selling my potions to neighboring packs under the name "Silver Witch." The specialized equipment for silver poisoning treatment, the isolation rooms for infection control, the herb garden visible through the windows—all of it paid for with my own money while Hayes was blind and the pack council dismissed my proposals as "unnecessary expenses."

Now it was being gutted.

"Careful with that!" Ember's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. She stood in the center of the destruction wearing designer workout clothes that probably cost more than the medical equipment being carted away. "I want the massage tables positioned to catch the morning light. And make sure the aromatherapy diffusers are installed by tonight."

A massage table. Where my silver-burn treatment station used to be.

"What are you doing?" The words came out strangled.

Ember turned, her perfect face lighting up with false delight. "Aria! I was hoping you'd stop by. I wanted to thank you personally for all your hard work on this space. It's going to make the most wonderful Luna wellness center."

"This is a trauma ward." I stepped forward, my wolf snarling inside me. "We need this. Silver poisoning cases, rogue attacks—"

"Can be treated in the general ward." Ember waved a dismissive hand. "Hayes agrees that pack morale is just as important as physical health. And what better way to boost morale than giving our Luna a proper space to relax and rejuvenate?"

Our Luna. She said it like she'd already been crowned.

"You can't just—" I grabbed a worker's arm as he lifted one of my custom-built detox stations. "Stop. That equipment is irreplaceable."

"Actually," Ember's voice went cold, "I can do whatever I want. I'm the Alpha's chosen mate. You're just the help." She moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. "I know your little secret, Silver Witch. All those miracle potions you've been selling? The ones that made you enough money to build this sad little project?"

My blood went cold.

"Once you're gone—and you will be gone, Aria—I'll take over your client list. Your recipes. Your reputation." Her smile was poison-sweet. "After all, who's going to believe a scarred, rejected Omega over the Silverclaw Pack's beautiful new Luna?"

She reached out and traced one of the silver scars on my cheek. I jerked back, but not before I saw the satisfaction in her eyes.

"These are so tragic," she cooed loud enough for the workers to hear. "You really should consider covering them. They're quite disturbing."

I left before I did something I'd regret. Or maybe something I wouldn't regret at all.

Hayes's office was on the top floor of the pack house, all windows and power. I'd been there a thousand times during his blind years, helping him navigate paperwork, reading reports aloud, being his eyes.

Now the door was closed. Locked.

I knocked anyway.

"Enter." His voice carried that new Alpha authority, the one that made weaker wolves' knees buckle.

He sat behind his massive desk, Marcus standing beside him with border maps spread out between them. Hayes looked up, and I watched his expression shift from neutral to annoyed.

"I'm busy, Aria."

"The Blood Moon Pack is moving on the northern border." I stepped forward, ignoring Marcus's warning look. "I have contacts—rogues who owe me favors. They've seen Ian's scouts. He's planning something."

Hayes leaned back in his chair, a smile playing at his lips. "Rogues who owe you favors? What, did you heal their mange?"

Marcus shifted uncomfortably.

"This is serious," I pressed. "Ian tried to kill you once. He knows you were vulnerable. If he thinks—"

"If he thinks what?" Hayes stood, his Alpha aura pressing against me like a physical weight. "That I'm still the weak, blind Alpha who needed a glorified maid to function? I'm not that person anymore, Aria. I'm stronger than I've ever been."

"Your wolf just awakened. You need time to—"

"I need you to stop pretending you understand war strategy." He moved around the desk, towering over me. "You're a healer. A mediocre one, apparently, given your own scars never healed properly. Stick to bandages and leave pack security to those of us who actually know what we're doing."

The dismissal stung worse than the rejection bond.

"Hayes—"

"Alpha Spencer," he corrected coldly. "And you're not welcome in my office anymore. If you have medical concerns, submit them in writing to Marcus. He'll decide if they're worth my time."

He turned his back on me. Conversation over.

I was halfway down the stairs when I heard the commotion from the training grounds.

Shouts. Not the usual sounds of sparring, but genuine alarm.

I ran.

The pack's warriors were gathered in a circle, and in the center, Hayes was on one knee, his hand pressed to his temple in that gesture I knew too well. Blood trickled from his nose.

A young Delta stood over him, looking horrified. "Alpha, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine." Hayes stood, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. His voice was steady, but I saw the tremor in his fingers. "I was going easy on you. Wanted to see if you'd take advantage of an opening."

The lie was smooth. Practiced.

But I'd seen what really happened. The way his eyes had unfocused. The way he'd missed a block that should've been instinctive.

His vision was failing.

The antidote was breaking down.

And he had no idea that the only person who could save him was the one he'd just thrown away.

I smelled Ember's perfume before I heard her voice—expensive, cloying, the kind that announced her presence like a warning siren.

I was in the basement Omega quarters, unpacking what little remained of my belongings into a space that smelled of mildew and neglect. My hands were still raw from the burns, my wolf still whimpering from the rejection pain that hadn't faded.

Then I heard Buster yelp.

I dropped the box I was holding and ran.

The kitchen hallway was flooded with afternoon sunlight, warm and golden. Buster had found a patch of it near the service entrance and curled up there, probably seeking comfort in the heat. He looked so small in that moment, so fragile.

Ember stood over him, her face twisted with disgust. Two warriors flanked her, looking uncomfortable but obedient.

"Get rid of it," she said, her voice sharp. "This manged cur is contaminating the Luna's space."

"Ember, he's just sleeping—" one of the warriors started.

"Did I ask for your opinion?" She rounded on him. "Hayes has been in a foul mood all morning, and I'm tired of tripping over reminders of his pathetic past. Dispose of it. Now."

The warrior's hand moved to the silver blade at his belt.

Something inside me snapped.

I didn't think. Didn't plan. I just moved.

The aura that erupted from me wasn't warm like a healer's touch. It was cold. Metallic. It tasted like silver and moonlight and ten years of swallowed rage. The air around me shimmered, and I felt my wolf surge forward—not to shift, but to dominate.

"Down!" The command tore from my throat.

Both warriors dropped to their knees instantly, their heads bowing as if an invisible hand had shoved them to the ground. Their weapons clattered against the tile.

Ember's eyes went wide. "What—"

I stepped forward, and she actually took a step back. Good.

"Touch him again," I said quietly, "and you'll regret it."

Ember's shock lasted maybe three seconds before fury replaced it. Her hand came up fast, aiming for my scarred cheek.

I caught her wrist mid-swing.

Her bones felt delicate in my grip, like bird wings. Fragile. Breakable.

"Let go of me!" She tried to yank free, but I held firm.

"You want to hit me?" I asked. "Go ahead. Try."

Instead, I released her wrist and delivered a sharp, ringing slap across her perfect face.

The sound echoed in the hallway. Ember stumbled backward, her hand flying to her reddening cheek, her eyes filling with tears of shock and rage.

I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a whisper only she could hear. "If you touch this dog again—if you even look at him wrong—I will make sure you never walk again. Do you understand me?"

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"I asked you a question."

"You—you can't—Hayes will—"

"Hayes isn't here." I straightened, my aura still crackling around me like static electricity. "And even if he were, do you really think he'd choose you over his own pride? You're a placeholder, Ember. A pretty distraction. The moment you stop being useful, he'll discard you just like he discarded everyone else."

I scooped Buster into my arms. He was trembling, but his tail gave a weak wag against my chest.

The two warriors were still on their knees, staring at me like they'd never seen me before. Maybe they hadn't. Maybe none of them had.

I walked past Ember without another word, my head high, Buster safe in my arms.

Behind me, I heard whispers starting. Shocked murmurs. The kind that would spread through the pack like wildfire.

Let them talk.

I made it back to my basement room and had just settled Buster on the thin mattress when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Heavy. Angry.

Hayes.

He didn't knock. Just shoved the door open hard enough that it bounced off the wall.

"What the hell did you do to Ember?" His eyes were blazing, but I noticed the way he squinted slightly in the dim light. The way his hand came up to touch his temple.

"She tried to have Buster killed," I said calmly. "I stopped her."

"By assaulting my mate?"

"Your chosen mate," I corrected. "Not your fated one. There's a difference."

His jaw clenched. "You're walking a very thin line, Aria."

"Am I?" I stood, facing him fully. "Tell me something, Hayes. How's your vision?"

He went very still.

"It's flickering, isn't it?" I continued. "Blurring at the edges. Especially when you're stressed or using your Alpha aura too much. You probably thought it was just fatigue. Adjustment period. But it's getting worse, isn't it?"

"How do you—"

"Because I know exactly what's happening to you." I moved to the small bag I'd salvaged from the fire and pulled out a single vial filled with pale blue liquid. "For ten years, I performed daily energy transfers to sustain your Alpha aura. Every morning, while you slept, I channeled my wolf's strength into yours. It's why you never fully deteriorated. Why your wolf stayed dormant instead of dying completely."

The color drained from his face.

"I stopped the day you rejected me," I said. "The bond breaking severed the connection. Your wolf is trying to sustain itself on its own power, but it's not strong enough yet. The antidote woke it up, but it didn't fix the underlying damage."

"You're lying."

"Am I?" I held up the vial. "This is Moon Flower Serum. It'll stabilize you for a few days. Maybe a week if you're careful. But it's not a cure, Hayes. It's a bandage."

He stared at the vial like it was both salvation and poison.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because despite everything, I'm still a healer." I set the vial on the rickety table between us. "And because I want you to understand exactly what you threw away."

He grabbed the vial, his fingers shaking slightly. For a moment, he looked like he might say something—maybe even thank me.

Instead, he turned and walked out, his pride intact but his power crumbling.

I closed the door and leaned against it, my own hands trembling now that the adrenaline was fading.

Buster whined softly from the bed.

"I know, boy," I whispered. "I know."

But the truth was, I didn't know anything anymore. Except that the man I'd loved for ten years was falling apart, and I was the only one who could save him.

And I wasn't sure I wanted to.