The morning sun filtered through the infirmary windows, casting long shadows across the stone floor. I sat on the edge of the examination table, my fingers nervously twisting the thin cloth of my dress. The Head Healer's face was grave as he studied the scroll in his hands, his eyes darting between the parchment and the strange device he'd used to measure my aura.

"Tessa Meyer," he said finally, his voice carrying the weight of decades of practice. "I've completed your pre-mating examination."

Something in his tone made my heart stutter. I'd expected the usual clearance, the standard blessing before tomorrow's ceremony with Max. Instead, I saw the deep furrows of concern etched into his weathered face.

"What's wrong?" I asked, though part of me already knew I didn't want the answer.

He set the scroll down carefully, as if it contained something fragile and dangerous. "Your aura readings indicate a condition we call Wolfsbane Rot."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating.

"Wolfsbane Rot?" I repeated, the name tasting bitter on my tongue. "What does that mean?"

"It's a degeneration of the wolf spirit." His eyes held genuine regret. "Your wolf is dying, Tessa. And when she goes, she'll take your human form with her."

My breath caught. "Is there a cure?"

He shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry. You have weeks, perhaps months at most."

The room seemed to tilt around me. Tomorrow, I was supposed to mate with Max, become Luna of the Blood River Pack. We were going to have pups and build a life together. Now, I was being told I was dying.

I stumbled out of the infirmary clutching the diagnostic scroll, my legs barely supporting me. The bright morning light felt like a mockery of the darkness spreading inside me.

---

I needed Max. Needed his strength, his reassurance that somehow this would all work out. Even if I couldn't tell him yet about my diagnosis, just being near him would help me find the courage to face whatever came next.

His private Alpha quarters were in the east wing of the Pack House. I'd only been there a handful of times—it was sacred space, reserved for the Alpha and his closest advisors. But today, I didn't care about protocol.

The heavy oak door was slightly ajar. Strange. Max usually locked it when he was inside.

"Max?" I called softly, pushing the door open wider.

The sight before me froze my blood.

Max stood by his desk, his powerful arms wrapped around a woman's waist. My sister's waist.

"—can't explain it, Sasha," he was saying, his voice low and intimate. "The bond with Tessa feels like a duty, but you..." He buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply. "You're the one I choose."

Sasha's eyes were closed, her face tilted upward in ecstasy. "I've always been yours, Max. Since before the Moon Goddess interfered."

"But tomorrow's the ceremony," he murmured against her skin.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered back. "We have history. Real history. Not some mystical bond that just snapped into place."

I backed away silently, my hand pressed against my mouth to stifle any sound. The diagnostic scroll crumpled in my fist.

"My fragile flower," Max said, his voice carrying the tenderness I'd always dreamed of hearing. "I need to protect you, always."

---

I made it halfway down the hallway before my stomach revolted. I collapsed against the wall, vomiting until there was nothing left but bitter bile.

Dying. Betrayed. All in one morning.

I somehow made it back to my room, locking the door behind me. My hands shook as I pulled out a small travel bag from beneath my bed.

Wolfsbane Rot. A death sentence with no appeal.

And Max—my fated mate, my Alpha, my everything—loved my sister.

I packed mechanically: a change of clothes, what little money I had saved, a small knife for protection. Then I sat at the small desk and pulled out a piece of paper.

*Max,* I wrote, my handwriting unusually steady. *I can't be your Luna. Please don't look for me.*

No explanation. No accusation. No formal rejection that would weaken his Alpha status. Just... goodbye.

I sealed the note and tucked it into my bag. Then I remembered—the scent-masking potion in the pack stores. Hunters used it to mask their trails from prey. It would work just as well for me.

The storage room was empty this time of morning. I slipped inside, found the small vial labeled "Forest Mist," and dropped it into my pocket.

One last look at the room that had been my home for the past month. Tomorrow, Max would wake up and find me gone. He would think I'd abandoned him—the coward's way out.

But the truth was far worse: I was sparing him the pain of watching his mate waste away before his eyes. And I was sparing myself the agony of seeing him with her every day.

I took one deep breath, squared my shoulders, and prepared to disappear.

The ceremonial Pack Run was supposed to be my moment. As Max's future Luna, I should have been running at his side, leading the Blood River Pack through the forest paths. Instead, I found myself constantly sidelined, watching as Sasha effortlessly maneuvered herself between Max and me.

"Keep up, Tessa," Max called over his shoulder, his powerful black wolf form accelerating ahead. I pushed myself harder, my grey wolf form struggling to match his pace.

Just as I closed the distance, Sasha darted forward, her sleek brown form cutting me off. She nudged against Max's flank, and he responded instantly, nuzzling her neck.

"This is the path I used to patrol when we were pups," Max said through the mind-link, his voice warm with nostalgia. "Remember, Sasha?"

"Of course I do," she replied, her mental voice honey-sweet. "You always took the eastern ridge first, then circled back through the hollow oak."

I froze mid-stride. That was my memory—Max had shown me that path during my first shift, when he'd secretly guarded my perimeter. How did Sasha know?

"The howl you taught me," Max continued, "the one that echoes across three valleys."

He lifted his muzzle and released a haunting call that sent shivers down my spine. It was the same howl he'd used to signal me during our private meetings.

Sasha answered with a perfect harmonizing howl, as if they'd practiced together for years.

I trailed behind them, my paws kicking up dust as they raced ahead. Every movement, every call between them felt choreographed—a dance they'd perfected without me.

---

"The Moon Stone has blessed countless Alphas and Lunas," Max explained as we approached the sacred clearing later that evening. "Tonight, it will bless us too."

The massive white stone gleamed in the twilight, its surface etched with ancient pack symbols. Max had brought me here for a private ritual before tomorrow's ceremony—a gesture that should have warmed my heart.

"I want to recreate something special," he said, leading me toward a small grove of wildflowers. "When I first realized you were important to me."

He pointed to a cluster of bright yellow blooms—sunflowers. I hated sunflowers. They reminded me of funeral homes and cheap roadside stands.

"They're beautiful," I lied, forcing a smile.

"They remind me of you," Max said, though his eyes darted toward the tree line where Sasha stood partially hidden. She must have followed us.

As we walked back toward the Moon Stone, my foot caught on an exposed root. I stumbled forward, twisting my ankle against a sharp rock. Pain shot up my leg.

"Max," I gasped, reaching for him.

Before I could say more, a soft whimper floated from the trees. Sasha stepped into view, rubbing her arm where a small scratch had appeared.

"Max, I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling. "I just wanted to see the ritual."

Max immediately dropped my hand and rushed to her side. "Don't apologize, my fragile flower," he murmured, examining the barely visible mark. "Are you hurt? Let me see."

I sat in the dirt, my ankle throbbing, watching as he cradled her wrist and blew gently on the scratch.

---

The Pack House bustled with activity as servants prepared for tomorrow's ceremony. No one noticed me slip into my room, locking the door behind me.

I placed my Luna pendant—a silver crescent moon embedded with moonstones—on my pillow. Beside it, I laid the note I'd written earlier: "I am not the wolf you need. Be with the one you chose."

My hands trembled as I uncorked the small vial of Forest Mist. The scent-masking potion smelled of burnt herbs and something acrid—wolfsbane, perhaps.

"To new beginnings," I whispered, tipping the vial against my lips.

The liquid burned like fire down my throat, coating my insides with a bitter film that would neutralize my scent. I coughed, tears streaming down my face.

When the worst of the burning subsided, I shouldered my small bag and crept down the service stairs at the back of the Pack House.

The northern border was miles away, but I had to try. Every step stretched the mate bond thinner, like a rubber band pulled to its breaking point.

I shifted into my wolf form—sleek and grey and unremarkable. The perfect escape vehicle.

As I sprinted toward the border, the bond between Max and me pulled painfully in my chest. But with each yard of distance I put between us, a strange lightness began to replace the pain.

Freedom tasted bittersweet on my tongue as I ran into the gathering darkness, leaving behind everything I'd ever known.

The morning light filtered through the curtains of my small room at the edge of the Blood River territory. I'd been gone for hours, but I knew Max would only just be waking up. Discovering I'd left.

I imagined him bursting into my room, his powerful frame filling the doorway, eyes wild with confusion. He'd see the empty bed, the open window. Then he'd spot the note I'd left on my pillow.

*Max, I can't be your Luna. Please don't look for me.*

Short. Sweet. Devastating.

---

"Alpha!" The Beta's voice echoed down the hallway outside Max's quarters. "You need to see this!"

I could picture Max's face—the initial confusion giving way to anger as he read my words. His jaw would tighten, that muscle in his cheek twitching the way it always did when he was barely containing his rage.

"Find her," he'd snarl, his Alpha tone vibrating through the walls. "Now!"

But then—then would come the real revelation.

The door to his quarters burst open with such force that it slammed against the wall. The Head Healer stood there, his face ashen, hands trembling.

"Alpha," he gasped, clutching a scroll identical to the one I'd received yesterday. "There's been a terrible mistake."

Max would turn, his eyes flashing dangerously. "What mistake?"

"The blood samples—" The healer swallowed hard. "They were mislabeled. I mixed up the Meyer sisters' tests."

The silence that followed would be deafening.

"What are you saying?" Max's voice would be deadly quiet.

"I'm saying that Tessa doesn't have Wolfsbane Rot." The healer's voice cracked. "Sasha does."

The realization would hit Max like a physical blow. I could almost see him stagger back, his hand gripping the edge of his desk for support.

"No," he'd whisper. "No, that can't be right."

"I retested both samples three times," the healer would continue, his voice heavy with guilt. "Tessa's wolf is perfectly healthy. But Sasha—" He'd shake his head. "She's been dying for years."

Max would remember all the times he'd dismissed me as strong, independent—not needing his protection. While he'd been coddling Sasha, treating her like delicate glass because he thought she was healthy.

And now I was gone.

---

"TESSA!"

Max's howl tore through the forest as he raced through the trees, his massive black wolf form moving with desperate speed. His paws bled from running on sharp rocks, but he didn't feel the pain.

Behind him, Marcus, his Beta, tried to keep pace.

"Alpha, please! We need a strategy! She's masked her scent—we can't just run blindly!"

But Max wasn't listening. His mind was fracturing under the weight of his mistake. The bond between us stretched thinner with every passing minute.

"Tessa!" His howl echoed across three valleys, the same howl he'd taught me during my first shift. "Come back!"

I imagined his powerful legs carrying him deeper into the forest, following a scent trail that was already fading. The Forest Mist potion would be working its magic, neutralizing my scent.

He'd run until his paws were raw, until his lungs burned with each breath. But the bond between us would go silent as I crossed into neutral territory where magic was dampened.

---

The cold bit through my thin clothes as I stumbled through the transition zone near the Northern Glaciers. My ankle throbbed from yesterday's injury, and exhaustion weighed down my limbs.

I'd been running for nearly twenty-four hours straight. The scent-masking potion had taken its toll on my system, leaving me dizzy and disoriented.

Just a little further, I told myself. Just make it to the Glaciers.

A low growl froze me in place.

Three pairs of yellow eyes watched me from the shadows between the trees. Rogues—wolves without packs, without honor.

"Well, well," the largest one said, stepping into the dim light. "What do we have here? A little Omega wandering all alone?"

I backed away slowly, my hand moving to the knife at my belt. "I'm just passing through."

"Nothing passes through our territory without paying a price," another rogue snarled.

They circled me, their movements practiced and predatory. I knew I couldn't outrun them, not in my weakened state.

When the first one lunged, I dodged sideways, using agility over strength. My knife flashed in the moonlight, catching one rogue across the shoulder.

"Feisty little thing," the third rogue growled, circling wider.

I fought with everything I had—kicking, slashing, dodging. But I was outnumbered. A heavy weight slammed into my back, sending me sprawling onto the frozen ground.

"Look at her," one of them sneered, standing over me. "Not so tough now."

The largest rogue raised his clawed hand for what would be a killing blow.

Suddenly, howls erupted from the trees. Five massive wolves burst into the clearing, their fur white as snow.

"Frost Fang Patrol!" one shouted through the mind-link. "Stand down!"

The rogues scattered like leaves in the wind.

A smaller wolf with kind eyes moved toward me cautiously. "Can you hear me?" he asked through the link.

I tried to respond, but darkness was closing in. The last thing I felt was a gentle touch as a wolf with warm brown eyes nudged my hand.

"Luna?" he whispered.

Then everything went black.