
I sacrificed my entire life to build this pack.
I gave up my warrior training to raise my son and manage the territory while my mate became Alpha.
That was why I thought I was the most cherished Luna in the world.
Until his first love returned.
During the deadliest Rogue attack our pack ever faced, the emergency shelter initiated its lockdown.
I fell behind because I was dragging a wounded omega servant to safety.
Just as I reached the heavy steel doors, his first love covered her face and sobbed that she was terrified the monsters would get inside.
My ten-year-old son lunged forward and slammed his hand onto the lockdown button.
My mate wrapped his arms around the boy, making no move to stop the doors from closing.
"Mom is a wolf, she can survive out there!" my son yelled.
"She needs protection!"
Outside, three giant Rogues blocked my only escape route.
***
I stopped dead in the hallway, my eyes locked on the metal trash can. Tangled among crumpled papers and empty snack wrappers lay the gray wool sweater I spent the entire last month knitting.
Lucas had turned ten exactly one week ago. I stayed up late every night, working the needles until my fingers cramped, making sure the fit would be perfect for his first winter training sessions. When I handed him the neatly wrapped box, he pulled the sweater out, wrinkled his nose, and tossed it onto his unmade bed.
"This is tacky," he had complained. "None of the other kids wear handmade stuff."
Now, it was actual garbage. I reached into the bin and pulled the heavy fabric free. The sleeves I had carefully measured were stained with dried soda.
I dropped the ruined garment back into the trash and shoved open the door to the adjacent guest room.
Six months ago, Celeste arrived at our pack borders claiming she had nowhere else to go. She took this room, the one sharing a wall with my son's bedroom. Right now, she sat cross-legged on the rug in a thin silk nightgown, a game controller in her hands. Next to her sat Lucas. He wore a stiff, neon-green hoodie with a crooked logo—a mass-produced cheap thing Celeste bought him yesterday at a gas station.
"Lucas," I said, my voice cutting through the bright cartoon music blasting from the television. "You are supposed to be at the training grounds. Defense drills started twenty minutes ago."
Lucas groaned, not taking his eyes off the screen. "I'm busy."
"Pause the game. Go change your clothes."
"No!" He slammed the plastic controller onto the hardwood floor. It bounced, the battery cover snapping off and skittering under the bed. "You're always ruining everything! Celeste actually lets me have fun. You just want me to sweat in the mud."
"Celeste is not your mother," I snapped, stepping further into the room. "I am. Get up."
"I don't want you to be my mother!" Lucas yelled, his face turning red. "I want to stay here. You're boring and mean."
"Watch your mouth," I warned, pointing a finger at him. "Get your boots on right now, or you are grounded for a month."
"Rose, don't yell at him," a deep voice rumbled from the hallway.
The floorboards creaked behind me. Adrian stepped into the room, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. I expected my mate to back me up. I expected the Alpha of our pack to enforce the rules. Instead, he walked right past me and placed a large hand on Lucas's head, ruffling his hair.
"Is there a problem in here?" Adrian asked, his tone mild.
"He's skipping his defense drills," I said. "And throwing tantrums when I tell him to fulfill his duties."
Adrian sighed, turning to face me. "Give the kid a break. He just turned ten."
"Ten is when pups start learning how to protect themselves. You know this, Adrian. It is pack law."
"And you know you're projecting," he shot back, his voice dropping into a patronizing register. "Just because you quit your own warrior training six years ago to help me secure the Alpha position doesn't mean you get to micromanage his entire life."
The words felt like a physical slap. I stared at him, my jaw tight. "I gave up my rank for you. I stepped down so you would have the support you needed to lead this pack. And now you're using my sacrifice against me?"
"I am pointing out a fact," Adrian said, crossing his arms. "You hover. You suffocate him. Not everyone needs to be a soldier every second of the day. Let the boy play his game."
"He threw his controller," I pointed out. "He screamed at me. Are you going to correct his behavior, or are you going to reward it?"
"I am going to tell you to lower your voice," Adrian warned, his eyes narrowing. "You are acting irrational."
"I am acting like a mother trying to raise a capable wolf!"
"You are acting jealous," Adrian corrected coldly. "You are upset because he likes hanging out with Celeste more than he likes doing your grueling drills."
Celeste scrambled to her feet, clutching her hands to her chest. Her silk nightgown slipped slightly off one shoulder, revealing pale skin.
"Alpha Adrian, please don't fight," she whispered, her voice trembling. "This is my fault. I just wanted Lucas to relax for an hour. I didn't mean to cause trouble between you two. I should have told him to go to training."
Adrian's expression softened instantly. He reached out, wrapping his fingers around her bare arm. "Don't apologize, Celeste. You did nothing wrong. You're just being good to him."
He rubbed his thumb over her skin. She looked up at him through thick eyelashes, her bottom lip quivering.
"I just hate seeing you argue," Celeste murmured. "It makes me feel like a burden. Maybe I should leave the pack house."
"You are not going anywhere," Adrian replied softly. "You are under my protection. No one is going to make you feel unwelcome in this home."
He shot a glare in my direction, making it perfectly clear who he was talking about.
I stood three feet away, watching them. Adrian, Celeste, and Lucas. They looked like a family. A perfect, happy family, while I stood on the outside like an unwanted intruder. Six years of marriage, of building this life from the ground up, reduced to a bad joke in my own home. My son wore her clothes. My husband held her arm.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. I swallowed the bitter taste coating my tongue. Fine. If Adrian wouldn't parent our son, I would force the issue.
I marched past them, heading straight for the television stand.
"What are you doing?" Adrian demanded.
"I am taking the console," I said, grabbing the black plastic box. "If he cannot respect his mother, he does not get to play."
"Put it down," Adrian ordered.
"No." I yanked the power cord from the wall socket.
Lucas screamed in protest as the screen went black. "Dad! Make her stop!"
"I said put it down," Adrian snarled, taking a step toward me. His chest puffed out, an Alpha command ready on his lips.
Before he could speak, a piercing shriek shattered the silence.
The pack's air raid sirens wailed, vibrating through the floorboards. Red emergency lights bolted to the hallway ceiling spun into a frantic, blinding flash.
Rogue attack. Highest tier.
I dropped the console. The plastic shattered against the floor. I rushed to the window, where thick black smoke already billowed over the western tree line.