They dragged me down three flights of stairs. My wrists burned where the silver cuffs bit into skin. The Beta had one arm, the Gamma the other, and behind us came six more enforcers like I was some kind of monster.

Maybe I was.

We hit the main hallway, and that's when I saw them. Pack members lined the walls, watching. Whispering. Some looked scared. Others looked satisfied, like they'd been waiting for this moment since I came back.

"Keep moving," the Beta growled.

Kira stirred beneath my skin. *Let me out. Let me tear them apart.*

*Not yet,* I told her. But the rage was building, hot and vicious, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold her back.

The Gamma's grip tightened. "Don't even think about it."

I stopped walking.

They tried to pull me forward. I didn't budge. The silver burned, but I'd survived worse. Three years in the Rogue Lands had taught me that pain was just another language.

"I said move," the Beta snarled.

I looked at him. Really looked at him. Saw the fear beneath the bravado. "Make me."

His eyes widened. Then Kira exploded.

The shift tore through me like lightning. Bones cracked and reformed. My skin split and fur erupted, ash-grey and battle-scarred. The silver cuffs shattered as my wrists expanded, and suddenly I wasn't Arielle anymore.

I was Kira. Massive. Lethal. Free.

The Beta stumbled back, but not fast enough. I caught his arm in my jaws and bit down. Bone crunched. He screamed. I released him and he dropped, clutching the ruin of his arm.

The Gamma shifted mid-lunge, but he was too slow. I caught him by the throat and threw him. He crashed through the hallway window in an explosion of glass and wood. His wolf form hit the ground outside with a sickening thud.

Silence.

I stood in the center of the hallway, blood on my muzzle, surrounded by shattered silver and broken glass. The pack members pressed against the walls, eyes wide. Some of the omegas dropped to their knees, baring their necks in submission.

They felt it. The power radiating off me. Not Alpha power—something older. Wilder.

Then the tranquilizer dart hit my shoulder.

I snarled, spun toward the enforcers. They had guns raised, more darts loaded. Another one hit my flank. Then another.

The world tilted. My legs buckled. I tried to fight it, but the drugs were fast and strong. Kira howled in my head as I collapsed, my wolf form melting back into human skin.

I lay on the cold floor, naked and shaking, as boots surrounded me.

Kyler's face appeared above me. His expression was ice. "You just made a very big mistake."

I tried to speak, but my tongue was too heavy. The drugs pulled me under, and the last thing I heard was his voice, cold and final: "Break her legs. Make sure she can't shift again."

Pain woke me.

Not the dull ache of the tranquilizers. Sharp, white-hot agony that screamed through both legs. I tried to move and nearly blacked out again.

I was in a cell. Stone walls. No windows. A single bulb overhead cast sickly yellow light. The floor was lined with silver—thin strips embedded in the concrete that made my skin crawl just being near them.

My legs were twisted at wrong angles. Broken. Deliberately.

I bit down on a scream and forced myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. The pain was a living thing, but I'd survived worse. I had to believe that.

The Luna's Amulet was still around my neck. They'd missed it in the chaos. I clutched it with shaking fingers, and the metal warmed against my palm.

*Record everything,* Elder Jackson had said.

I didn't know how it worked, but I had to trust her. Had to believe there was a reason she'd given it to me.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. I tensed, every muscle screaming in protest.

The cell door opened.

Reyna stepped inside, and she was smiling.

She looked perfect. Hair glossy, skin glowing, wearing a pale blue dress that made her look innocent. Angelic. But her eyes were cold.

"Hello, Arielle," she said softly. "Kyler's gone to meet with the Council. He'll be back in a few hours. I thought we should have a little chat."

I said nothing. Just watched her.

She moved closer, careful to avoid the silver strips. "You know, I almost admire you. Coming back here, thinking you could expose me. It was brave. Stupid, but brave."

"I didn't poison you," I managed. My voice was rough.

"Of course you didn't." She laughed. "I poisoned myself. Just a little. Enough to make it look convincing. Enough to frame you."

My blood went cold.

"Elder Jackson was the same," Reyna continued, circling me like a predator. "Wolfsbane derivatives, administered slowly over months. She never suspected a thing. Too trusting, that one. She actually thought I cared about this pack."

I clutched the amulet tighter. *Keep talking,* I thought. *Tell me everything.*

"Why?" I whispered.

"Because she was in the way." Reyna crouched down, just out of reach. "As long as she was alive, I'd never truly be Luna. The pack still looked to her for guidance. Still loved her. I needed her gone."

"Kyler—"

"Kyler is a fool," she said flatly. "He thinks he's in control, but he's not. He never was. I've been pulling his strings since the day we met. And once Elder Jackson dies, once you're executed for her murder, I'll have everything I ever wanted."

She stood, smoothing her dress. "You'll die down here, Arielle. Slowly. The silver will poison your blood, and your broken legs will make sure you can't heal. No one's coming to save you. No one even knows you're innocent."

She walked to the door, then paused. Looked back. "I win. You lose. Just like always."

The door slammed shut. The lock clicked.

I sat in the darkness, pain radiating through my body, and pressed the amulet against my chest. It pulsed once, warm and steady, and I knew—somehow—that it had recorded every word.

Reyna had just confessed to everything.

Now I just had to survive long enough to make sure someone heard it.

I lost track of time in that cell. Hours blurred together in a haze of pain and silver poisoning. My legs throbbed with every heartbeat, the bones trying to knit back together but failing. The silver in the floor saw to that.

Kira was silent. Too weak to even whisper in my mind.

I clutched the Luna's Amulet and waited. For what, I didn't know. Rescue felt like a fantasy. Death felt inevitable.

Then I felt it.

A sharp, sudden warmth in my chest. Not pain—something else. Like a thread pulled taut, vibrating with urgency. It lasted only a second before fading, but it left me breathless.

Somewhere, far away, someone was calling for help.

I didn't understand it. Didn't have time to. Because footsteps echoed in the corridor, and this time there were many of them.

The cell door crashed open. Kyler stood there with four enforcers, his face carved from stone. Behind him, I could see the first gray light of dawn filtering through a high window.

Morning. Already.

"Get her up," Kyler said.

The enforcers hauled me to my feet. I screamed. Couldn't help it. My legs buckled immediately, and they had to drag me, my broken limbs scraping against the floor. The silver burned everywhere it touched.

They pulled me up the stairs, through hallways I barely recognized. My vision swam. I tasted copper.

When we emerged into the open air, the cold hit me like a slap. The pack grounds stretched before me, and they were full. Hundreds of wolves gathered in a massive circle around a wooden post in the center. A tribunal platform had been erected overnight—rough and hastily built, but functional.

This was real. They were really going to kill me.

The enforcers chained me to the post. Silver chains. They wrapped around my wrists, my waist, my throat. I couldn't move. Could barely breathe.

Kyler stepped onto the platform. His voice carried across the silent crowd. "Members of the Moonshadow Pack. We are gathered here at dawn to witness justice."

Justice. The word was poison in his mouth.

"Arielle Hoffman stands accused of two counts of attempted murder. She poisoned the blood she donated to our future Luna, Reyna Ortiz. And she has been slowly poisoning our beloved Elder Jackson for months."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. I saw shock on some faces. Satisfaction on others.

"Elder Jackson slipped into a coma last night," Kyler continued. His voice was steady, but I saw his hands shake. Just slightly. "The healers say she may not wake. And it is because of this traitor. This rogue who came back to destroy us from within."

I tried to speak. The chain around my throat made it impossible.

Reyna appeared beside Kyler, wearing white. Mourning colors. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, playing the grieving victim perfectly.

"The tribunal has reviewed the evidence," Kyler said. "And the sentence is death. Immediate execution."

No trial. No defense. Just a performance.

He descended from the platform and walked toward me. In his hands, he carried a massive blade—the Alpha's executioner sword, passed down through generations. The metal gleamed in the dawn light.

I met his eyes. Saw nothing there I recognized. The boy I'd grown up with was gone. Only this hollow, broken thing remained.

"Any last words?" he asked quietly.

I smiled. Tasted blood. "You'll regret this."

His jaw tightened. He raised the blade.

The crowd held its breath.

I closed my eyes and thought of Elder Jackson. Of the Rogue Lands. Of golden eyes watching from the shadows. Of that strange warmth in my chest that felt like hope.

I thought of Silas. Wondered if he knew. If he'd tried to help.

The blade began its descent.

And then the world exploded.

A roar shattered the morning—not a wolf's howl, but something deeper. Primal. A sound that made the earth tremble and the sky seem to darken.

Kyler froze, the blade inches from my neck.

Every wolf in the pack grounds dropped to their knees. Not submission—compulsion. An aura so crushing, so absolute, that even Kyler staggered.

I looked up.

At the edge of the grounds, emerging from the treeline, came an army.

Wolves in formation. Massive. Battle-ready. Their fur was midnight black, and they moved with military precision. At their head walked a man, and the moment I saw him, everything inside me went still.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair and golden eyes that burned like fire. He wore black combat gear and radiated power that made Kyler look like a child playing dress-up.

The Lycan King.

Enzo Montgomery.

He walked through the crowd like they didn't exist. Wolves scrambled out of his way, pressing themselves flat against the ground. His gaze locked on mine, and I felt that thread in my chest pull taut again.

Mate.

The word whispered through my mind, and Kira stirred for the first time in hours.

Enzo stopped ten feet from Kyler. His voice was quiet, but it carried across the entire grounds. "Step away from her."

Kyler's face had gone white. The blade trembled in his hands. "This is pack business. You have no authority—"

"I have every authority." Enzo's eyes flashed gold. "That woman is my mate. And you just tried to execute her."

The crowd erupted in whispers. Shock. Fear. Confusion.

Kyler looked at me, then back at Enzo. I saw the calculation in his eyes. The desperate attempt to find a way out.

"She's a criminal," he said. "She poisoned—"

"She poisoned no one." Enzo took a step forward. Kyler took two back. "But you're going to wish she had. Because what I'm about to do to you will make poison look merciful."

He raised one hand, and his army moved forward as one.

The Moonshadow Pack didn't stand a chance.