The feral wolf's teeth snapped inches from my throat.

I twisted left, drove my blade up through its ribcage, and felt the hot spray of blood across my knuckles. It dropped with a gurgling whine. Around me, the Rogue Lands stretched in endless gray—dead trees, cracked earth, and the constant stink of decay.

"Arielle!" Silas's voice cut through the chaos. "Three more on your six!"

I didn't turn. I could hear them—the scrape of claws on stone, the ragged breathing of wolves who'd lost their humanity years ago. My wolf, Kira, surged beneath my skin, eager and vicious. She'd only awakened two years into my exile, born from rage and survival, and she was nothing like the gentle creature I'd imagined as a child.

I spun, caught the first attacker mid-leap with a kick that sent it sprawling. The second lunged low. I sidestepped, grabbed its scruff, and slammed it into the third. Bone cracked. They didn't get up.

Silas appeared at my side, blood streaking his jaw. "That's the last of them."

"For now." I wiped my blade on my thigh, scanning the camp. Twelve rogues—my pack, though we'd never call it that—were checking the perimeter. We didn't trust easily. Couldn't afford to.

I was Arielle Hoffman, the girl the Moonshadow Pack threw away. Now I was the Queen of Rogues, and I trusted no one.

Two hours later, I was patrolling the northern border when Kyler's scent hit me.

Pine and arrogance. My stomach twisted, but I kept walking. Kira snarled in my head. *He's here. Let me rip his throat out.*

*Not yet,* I told her.

"Arielle." His voice came from the shadows, smooth and commanding. Alpha tone, like he still had any right to use it on me.

I stopped. Turned. Kyler stepped into the dim light, flanked by six enforcers. He looked the same—sharp jaw, cold eyes, the kind of face that made people forget he had no soul.

"You're trespassing," I said.

"I'm here to bring you home."

Home. The word was a knife between my ribs. "I don't have a home. You made sure of that."

His jaw tightened. "Reyna's dying."

I laughed. Couldn't help it. "And?"

"She needs your blood. You're the only one with the right type."

"Let her die."

Kyler's eyes flashed. "You don't mean that."

"I mean every word." I took a step closer, let him see the scars on my arms, the coldness in my face. "You threw me to the wolves, Kyler. Literally. Now you want me to save the woman you chose over me? Go to hell."

He raised his hand. Red dots appeared on my chest—sniper lasers. I froze.

"Look around," Kyler said quietly. "My men have your entire camp in their sights. Silas. The others. One word from me, and they're dead."

Kira roared, but I forced her down. My hands shook with the effort. "You're bluffing."

"Try me."

I stared at him. Saw the desperation beneath the Alpha mask. He wasn't bluffing.

"You come back," he continued, "give Reyna what she needs, and I let your rogues live. Simple."

Nothing about this was simple. But I thought of Silas, who'd taught me to fight. Of the others, who'd become something close to family. I couldn't let them die for my pride.

"Fine," I said. "But if you're lying—"

"I'm not."

The ride back to Moonshadow territory was silent. I sat in the back of Kyler's SUV, wrists zip-tied, watching the Rogue Lands disappear behind us. The enforcers kept their distance. Smart.

When we pulled up to the pack house, I felt the weight of a hundred stares. Wolves lined the driveway, whispering. I recognized some of them—the ones who'd laughed when Kyler rejected me, who'd called me worthless.

Now they looked at me like I was a ghost.

I walked through the front doors with my head high, ignoring the way my heart hammered against my ribs. The house smelled the same. Lavender and wood smoke. It made me sick.

Kyler led me to the pack hospital, a sterile wing on the east side. We passed empty rooms, a nurse who wouldn't meet my eyes, and finally stopped at a door marked "Private."

Inside, Reyna lay in a hospital bed, pale and trembling. She looked up when I entered, and her eyes widened.

"Arielle," she whispered. "Thank the Goddess—"

"Save it." I turned away from her, and that's when I saw the second bed.

Elder Jackson.

She was barely recognizable—skin like paper, hair gone white, her breathing shallow and labored. Tubes ran from her arms. Machines beeped softly.

My chest tightened. Elder Jackson had been the only one who'd ever loved me. The only one who'd tried to stop Kyler that night.

"What happened to her?" My voice came out rough.

Kyler shifted behind me. "She's been sick for months. The healers can't figure it out."

I moved closer to her bed, ignoring Reyna's whimpering. Elder Jackson's eyes were closed, but her lips moved slightly, like she was trying to speak.

I reached for her hand. It was cold.

"Arielle." Kyler's voice was impatient. "We need to start the transfusion. Now."

I looked at Reyna, then at Elder Jackson, then at Kyler. Something was wrong here. Something beyond the obvious.

But I didn't have a choice.

"Fine," I said. "Let's get this over with."

As the nurse prepared the IV, I kept my eyes on Elder Jackson's face, and I made myself a promise: I'd find out what was really happening here.

And someone was going to pay.

The Pack Doctor was a wiry man with cold hands and colder eyes. He didn't look at me when he approached with the needle—just grabbed my arm like I was livestock.

"How much are you taking?" I asked.

He didn't answer. Just tied the tourniquet tight enough to bruise and positioned the needle over my vein.

I glanced at the collection bag hanging from the IV stand. It was massive. Enough to drain me halfway.

"That's too much," I said.

He ignored me. The needle pierced my skin.

I moved fast. Grabbed his wrist, twisted hard. He yelped as the needle clattered to the floor, and I shoved him back against the wall. Kira surged beneath my skin, ready to tear him apart.

"Touch me like that again," I said quietly, "and I'll break more than your wrist."

"Arielle." Kyler's voice cut through the room, sharp and commanding. "Stand down. Now."

The Alpha tone hit me like a wave—or it should have. I felt the pressure of it, the weight trying to force my knees to buckle, my head to bow. But it slid off me like water off stone.

I turned to face him. "No."

His eyes widened. Just for a second, but I saw it. Shock. Maybe fear.

"What did you say?" His voice was quieter now, dangerous.

"I said no." I stepped toward him, and he actually took a step back. "Your Alpha tone doesn't work on me anymore, Kyler. I'm not your pack. I'm not your anything."

Reyna whimpered from her bed. The sound grated on my nerves.

Kyler's jaw clenched. "You agreed to help."

"I agreed to give blood. Not to let your doctor drain me dry." I crossed my arms. "Here's the deal. I'll give what's safe—nothing more. And I want unsupervised visits with Elder Jackson. Every day. No guards, no cameras."

"That's not—"

"Those are my terms." I held his gaze. "Take them or leave them. But if you refuse, I walk. And Reyna dies."

Silence stretched between us. I could see him calculating, weighing his options. He had none, and we both knew it.

"Fine," he said finally. "But if you try anything—"

"You'll what? Exile me again?" I smiled without humor. "Been there. Survived that."

The transfusion took an hour. I sat perfectly still while the doctor—keeping his distance now—drew a reasonable amount of blood. Reyna watched me the whole time with those wide, innocent eyes. Like she hadn't stolen everything from me.

I didn't look at her once.

When it was done, Kyler escorted me to Elder Jackson's room and left without a word. The door clicked shut behind him.

I was alone with her.

She looked worse up close. Her skin had a grayish tint, and her breathing rattled in her chest. I pulled a chair close to her bed and took her hand. It felt like holding paper.

"Elder Jackson," I whispered. "It's me. It's Arielle."

No response. Just the steady beep of the heart monitor.

I leaned closer, and that's when I smelled it.

Sweet. Metallic. Wrong.

My wolf stirred, uneasy. I knew that scent. I'd encountered it once in the Rogue Lands when a wolf had been poisoned by a rival pack. Wolfsbane—but not the raw kind. This was refined. Concentrated.

Someone was poisoning her.

Rage flooded through me, hot and vicious. Kira snarled in my head, demanding blood. I forced myself to breathe, to think.

Elder Jackson's fingers twitched in mine.

Her eyes fluttered open—just barely. Clouded and unfocused, but aware.

"Arielle," she breathed. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm here." I squeezed her hand gently. "I'm here. You're going to be okay."

Her other hand moved, trembling, reaching for something under her pillow. I helped her, and she pressed something small and cold into my palm.

The Luna's Amulet.

I stared at it. The silver pendant was ancient, passed down through generations of Moonshadow Lunas. It should have been Reyna's now—or locked away until Kyler's true mate was found.

"Why—"

"Record everything," Elder Jackson whispered. Her grip tightened on my hand with surprising strength. "Trust... no one."

Then her eyes closed again, and she went still.

Panic shot through me. "Elder Jackson?"

The heart monitor beeped steadily. She was still alive. Just unconscious.

I slipped the amulet into my pocket and sat back, my mind racing. Record everything. She knew something. Something worth dying to tell me.

I stayed with her until a nurse came to check vitals, then let myself be escorted back to my assigned room—a guest suite on the third floor that felt more like a cell.

The door locked behind me with a soft click.

I paced the room as darkness fell outside. My thoughts churned. Wolfsbane. The amulet. Elder Jackson's warning. It all pointed to something bigger than Reyna's mysterious illness.

This was murder. Slow and deliberate.

I moved to the balcony, needing air. The night was cold, the moon hidden behind clouds. Below, the pack grounds stretched out in shadows.

That's when I felt it.

Warmth. Safety. The phantom sensation of being watched—but not threatened. Protected.

I'd felt this before. In the Rogue Lands, during my first winter when I'd nearly frozen to death. A massive black wolf had appeared, circling my makeshift shelter, keeping the feral packs at bay. I'd never seen it clearly, just glimpses of dark fur and golden eyes.

The same presence was here now.

I scanned the treeline at the edge of the property. There—a figure stood in the shadows between two pines. Too far to see clearly, but I felt the weight of his gaze.

Golden eyes gleamed in the darkness.

My breath caught. Kira went utterly still, and for the first time since her awakening, I felt her... calm. Like she recognized something I didn't.

The figure didn't move. Just watched.

And somehow, I knew—whoever he was, he wasn't here to hurt me.

The clouds shifted, and moonlight broke through. For just a second, I saw him clearly.

Tall. Powerful. Radiating an authority that made Kyler's Alpha presence look like a candle next to the sun.

Then the shadows swallowed him again, and he was gone.

I stood on that balcony for a long time, my hand pressed against the amulet in my pocket, wondering who—or what—was hunting in the darkness.

And whether he was my salvation or my doom.

The dining room was too bright. Crystal chandeliers threw harsh light across the long mahogany table, making everything feel exposed. I sat at the far end, as far from Kyler and Reyna as possible, but it wasn't far enough.

Kyler had insisted I attend dinner. "Pack unity," he'd said. "We need to show everyone you're here willingly."

Lies. All of it.

Reyna sat beside him, looking remarkably recovered for someone who'd been dying yesterday. Her color was back, her eyes bright. She wore a cream silk dress that probably cost more than most wolves made in a month, and she kept touching Kyler's arm like she was marking territory.

I wore the same clothes I'd arrived in. Jeans. Boots. A black tank top with a tear in the shoulder. I didn't belong here, and I wasn't going to pretend otherwise.

The Beta and Gamma sat across from me, along with a handful of senior pack members. They all avoided my eyes. Cowards.

"Arielle." Reyna's voice was sugar-sweet. "I never got to properly thank you for your... donation."

I cut into my steak. Didn't look up. "Don't."

"No, really. It must have been so difficult for you to come back here. To the place that rejected you." She paused, letting the words sink in. "Tell me, what's it like living in the Rogue Lands? I've heard it's absolutely filthy. All that dirt and violence. No wonder you look so... rough."

Silence fell across the table. Everyone waited to see what I'd do.

I set down my knife and fork. Looked at her directly. "It's honest. No one pretends to be something they're not. No one poisons the people who trust them."

Reyna's smile faltered. Just for a second.

"And the dirt washes off," I continued. "But insecurity? That sticks. Must be exhausting, constantly worrying you're not enough. That he'll wake up one day and realize what a mistake he made."

Her face went white, then red. "How dare you—"

"I dare because I have nothing left to lose." I leaned back in my chair. "You took everything from me. So yeah, I'll say whatever I want."

Kyler's fist slammed into the table. Glasses jumped. Wine sloshed. "Enough."

I met his eyes. Saw the anger there, but something else too. Something that looked almost like hunger. It made my skin crawl.

"Arielle, apologize," he said.

"No."

His jaw clenched. The Alpha aura pressed down on the room, making the other wolves shift uncomfortably. But it didn't touch me. Not anymore.

Reyna stood abruptly. "I'm not feeling well. I need to lie down."

She left in a rustle of silk and fake tears. Kyler watched her go, then turned back to me. The look in his eyes made Kira growl low in my mind.

"You're dismissed," he said quietly.

I left without another word.

I was in my room, trying to wash the stink of that dinner off my skin, when I heard the door open.

I spun, water dripping from my hands. Kyler stood in the doorway, swaying slightly. The smell of whiskey rolled off him in waves.

"Get out," I said.

He closed the door behind him. Locked it. "We need to talk."

"No, we don't."

He moved closer. I backed up until I hit the wall. He braced one hand beside my head, leaning in. His breath was hot against my face.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he said. His words slurred together. "Even after everything. Even after I—"

"Rejected me? Exiled me? Tried to kill me?" I shoved at his chest, but he didn't move. "Get away from me."

"The bond," he muttered. "It's still there. I can feel it. Can't you feel it?"

I felt nothing but disgust. "You broke that bond. You don't get to claim it now."

His hand moved to my waist. "I can forgive you. For the Rogue Lands. For what you became. You can stay here. Be mine. Not as Luna—Reyna has that—but as... something else."

The word he didn't say hung in the air. Mistress.

Rage exploded through me. Kira surged forward, lending me her strength. I grabbed his wrist, twisted hard, and used his own momentum to throw him across the room.

He hit the door with a crash that probably woke half the floor.

I stood over him, breathing hard. "Touch me again, and I'll rip your throat out. I don't care what you do to me after. It'll be worth it."

He stared up at me, shock and something darker flickering across his face. Then he scrambled to his feet and left without a word.

I locked the door behind him. My hands were shaking.

I didn't sleep that night. Just sat by the window, watching the shadows, wondering if those golden eyes were still out there.

The scream came at dawn.

I was up and moving before I fully processed it. Ran down the hallway in bare feet, following the sound of chaos. Other wolves poured out of their rooms, confused and frightened.

The pack hospital. Again.

I shoved through the crowd. Inside, Reyna was on the floor, convulsing. Blood poured from her mouth, dark and thick. The Pack Doctor knelt beside her, shouting orders at nurses.

Kyler stood frozen in the doorway, his face gray.

"What happened?" someone asked.

"Poison," the doctor said. "In her blood. It's killing her."

Reyna's eyes found mine through the chaos. She raised one shaking hand, pointing directly at me.

"Her," she gasped. "Arielle... poisoned... the blood..."

Every head turned toward me.

Kyler's expression shifted from shock to cold fury. "Seize her."

The Beta and Gamma moved fast. They grabbed my arms before I could react, forcing me to my knees. Silver cuffs snapped around my wrists. They burned.

"I didn't—" I started.

"Shut up," Kyler snarled. He looked at his enforcers. "Take her to the cells. Now."

They dragged me away as Reyna's screams echoed behind us, and I realized with cold certainty that I'd just walked into a trap.