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.

"Keep moving! Do not look back!" I shoved an elderly wolf toward the underground stairwell, my voice scraping against the roar of the sirens.

Thick gray smoke poured through the pack house corridors, choking the air. Somewhere above us, the violent snarls of Rogues echoed, shaking the plaster from the ceiling. Dust rained down on our heads, coating my clothes in a layer of white grit.

"Move faster, Marcus," I ordered a limping warrior, pushing him toward the heavy steel frame of the safe room entrance. "Get the pups inside. Do not wait for stragglers."

"What about you, Luna?" Marcus coughed, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "There are still people trapped in the east wing."

"I will handle it," I told him, pointing firmly into the bunker. "Get down those stairs."

As Marcus disappeared into the safe room, a terrified voice pierced the chaos.

"Luna, wait for me!"

I spun around. Clara, a young Omega maid, clutched a bundle of medical supplies to her chest. She trailed ten yards behind the main group, coughing violently, blinded by the black smog rolling down the hallway.

"Run, Clara! Get to the bunker!" I shouted, waving her forward frantically.

A deafening crack split the hallway. A flaming wooden support beam snapped from the ceiling, plummeting straight toward her.

Clara shrieked. The burning timber slammed into her leg, pinning her to the floor. Blood instantly pooled beneath her knee, staining the intricately woven rug. The medical supplies scattered across the tiles, rolling into the flames.

"Help!" she wailed, clawing at the floorboards. "Please! It burns!"

I didn't hesitate. I sprinted back into the smoke, abandoning the safety of the bunker entrance. The heat intensified with every step, blistering the skin on my arms.

"Hold still," I commanded, dropping to my knees beside her. The heat scorched my cheeks, singeing the edges of my hair.

"Leave me," Clara sobbed, her fingers digging into my wrist with bruising force. "They are coming. I can hear them breaking through the barricades."

"I am not leaving a pack member behind to die," I snapped. I wedged my shoulder under the blazing beam and shoved upward.

My muscles protested instantly. The wood groaned, shifting a mere inch. The smell of burning pine filled my nose, stinging my eyes.

"It is too heavy!" Clara cried, trying to push against the wood with her weak hands.

"Stop talking and get ready," I grunted, straining against the crushing weight. "Pull your leg out! Now!"

Clara yanked her bleeding limb free. I let the beam crash onto the tiles, sending a shower of orange sparks over us. I grabbed her by the armpits, hoisting her up.

"Lean your weight on me," I told her, wrapping her arm securely around my neck. "We are walking out of here right now."

Every step felt like wading through wet cement. Clara whimpered with each movement, her blood leaving a dark trail behind us. Ahead, the heavy steel door of the underground safe room stood open. The emergency countdown light flashed a frantic, blinding red, casting eerie shadows across the walls.

Inside the bunker, Celeste crouched on the concrete floor, her hands clamped tightly over her ears. Her thin silk nightgown offered no protection against the cold underground air.

"Shut the door!" Celeste shrieked, her face buried in her knees. "They are going to get inside! They are going to tear me apart!"

"Quiet!" I shouted over the blaring alarm, dragging Clara another two feet. "We are almost there!"

Lucas stood frozen at the bunker's control console. The flashing red light painted his pale face in sharp, terrified lines. His wide eyes darted from Celeste's trembling form to me, struggling under Clara's weight.

"Lucas, hold the door!" I yelled, my boots slipping on the slick floor. "Press the green button to pause the timer!"

"I... I..." Lucas stammered, stepping back from the panel. His hands shook wildly.

"Do not let the monsters in!" Celeste wailed, her voice cracking into a hysterical pitch. She threw herself toward Adrian, who stood just inside the threshold. She grabbed the fabric of his shirt, burying her face in his chest. "Alpha, please! I do not want to die! Tell him to close it!"

"Nobody is dying," Adrian said, his tone tight. He placed a hand on Celeste's shoulder, steadying her.

"Lucas!" I barked, adjusting my grip on Clara as she stumbled. "Press the button!"

Lucas looked at me. Then he looked at Celeste, who was sobbing hysterically into his father's shirt. He screwed his eyes shut, raised his small hand, and slammed his palm down on the red emergency lockdown button.

A mechanical siren blared. The massive steel gears ground together, and the heavy door began to slide shut.

"No!" Clara sobbed, sagging against me in defeat. "They are closing it!"

"Adrian, stop the door!" I demanded, pushing Clara forward with everything I had left. We were merely five yards away. Four yards.

Adrian lunged toward the console, pulling away from Celeste. His hand hovered directly over the manual override switch. I locked eyes with my mate, expecting him to slam it, expecting him to halt the closing steel to save his Luna.

Instead, he stopped.

He looked at Celeste, who was shaking violently on the floor. He looked at Lucas, who was shivering beside the control panel, tears streaming down his face. Adrian dropped his hand, wrapped his arms around our son, and pulled him into his chest. He stared at me through the narrowing gap, his expression completely unreadable, his jaw clenched tight. He did not touch the switch.

"What are you doing?" I roared, disbelief flooding my veins. "Open it!"

"Mom can shift!" Lucas yelled, his voice cracking with tears, piercing through the shrinking opening. "Celeste cannot fight! We have to protect her!"

"Adrian!" I bellowed, lunging for the gap, stretching my hand toward the metal frame.

The steel door slammed shut with a deafening boom.

The heavy locking bolts slid into place, shaking the floor beneath my feet. The red emergency lights above the bunker entrance died, plunging the hallway into absolute darkness.

I stood there, Clara's dead weight dragging against my side, staring at the solid metal wall.

My son had locked me out.

My mate had let him.

"Luna," Clara whispered, her voice trembling so hard her teeth chattered. "What do we do?"

A low, guttural snarl echoed from the corridor behind us. The sound vibrated through the soles of my boots, echoing off the narrow walls.

I turned slowly, adjusting my stance to shield the injured maid.

Three massive Rogues stepped out from the shadows of the corner. Their eyes glowed a sickly, unnatural yellow in the smoke. Thick drool fell from their bared fangs, sizzling as it hit the burning debris on the floor. Their claws scraped against the stone tiles.

"Get behind me," I told Clara, my voice eerily calm despite the betrayal burning in my chest.

The largest Rogue, a hulking beast with a scarred snout, lowered its head and charged straight for my throat.

"Get in the alcove!" I shoved Clara into the shallow recess of the stone wall, shielding her with my own body.

"Luna, they will kill you!" Clara sobbed, her fingers digging into the torn fabric of my jeans. "You do not have your guard!"

"Stay down and keep your mouth shut," I ordered. I reached into my right boot and drew my silver dagger. The metal hummed against my palm, cold and familiar.

Three Rogues fanned out across the corridor. The smoke curled around their ankles, hiding their boots. Their yellow eyes locked onto the heavy steel door behind me.

"Look at this," the largest Rogue sneered. His voice was a gravelly rasp that scraped the walls. "The Alpha locked his own mate out. How pathetic. Did he get tired of you?"

"Take one more step," I warned, pointing the blade at his chest, "and I will cut your throat."

The beast laughed, a wet, hacking sound. "You are just a discarded bitch. Move aside. We have charges for that door."

He pulled a bundle of crude explosives from his tactical vest. The fuses dangled like dead snakes. If they planted those on the metal frame, the blast would rupture the bunker's structural integrity. Adrian, Lucas, and Celeste would be crushed under the collapsing ceiling.

"Give me the bombs," I demanded.

"Make me," the Rogue taunted.

"I said," I lowered my stance, my muscles coiling tight, "move."

"Tear her apart," the leader commanded from the back.

The large Rogue lunged. I ducked under his massive claws, stepping inside his guard. He swung wildly, underestimating my speed. My arm shot up. The silver blade pierced the soft tissue beneath his jaw, sinking deep into his throat. Hot blood sprayed across my face, blinding my left eye.

He choked, dropping the explosives to the floor. His hands clawed at his neck as he collapsed at my feet. The thick crimson liquid pooled around my boots, soaking through the laces.

"You stupid whore!" the second Rogue roared. His bones cracked loudly as he shifted into a massive gray wolf mid-stride.

"Come on!" I wiped the blood from my eyes, kicking the explosives away from the door. "Who is next?"

The gray wolf snapped its jaws, charging my left flank. I dodged, but its teeth caught the fabric of my sleeve. The wolf yanked hard, ripping the cloth away along with a layer of skin.

I hissed, driving the pommel of my dagger into its snout. The wolf yelped, stumbling backward.

"Luna!" Clara screamed from the alcove. "Behind you!"

I spun around. The third Rogue, still in human form, swung a heavy iron pipe at my head. I raised my left arm to block. The iron connected with my forearm. The bone fractured with a sickening snap.

"Die quietly!" the man spat, kicking me squarely in the ribs.

I staggered back, my spine hitting the cold steel of the bunker door. The metal vibrated against my skin. On the other side, it was completely silent. No shouts for help. No pounding on the glass.

"Do you hear that, Adrian?" I screamed over my shoulder, slamming my good elbow into the Rogue's face. "Are you watching this?"

The man stumbled, blood pouring from his broken nose. I did not hesitate. I drove my dagger into his chest, twisting the blade until he stopped moving.

Two down. One left.

The gray wolf circled me, its yellow eyes darting toward the explosives resting near my boots.

"You cannot hold me off forever," the wolf snarled, shifting back into a naked, scarred man. "Your Alpha abandoned you. Why die for him? Step away from the door and we will let you run."

"I am not dying for him," I spat, gripping the dagger with my uninjured hand. "I am dying for my pack."

"Then die."

A shadow detached itself from the thick smoke near the ceiling. I never saw the leader coming.

A massive force slammed into the center of my back. The impact shattered the air in my lungs. My spine snapped with a deafening crack, echoing through the corridor like a gunshot.

I crashed onto the hard floor tiles, my chin bouncing off the stone. The silver dagger skittered out of my reach, sliding under a pile of burning debris.

"Luna!" Clara shrieked.

I tried to push myself up. Nothing happened. My arms lay useless at my sides. My legs felt entirely disconnected from my body, floating in a numb void. Panic flared in my chest.

"Get up," I urged my inner wolf. "Please. Get up."

Deep inside my chest, my wolf let out a weak, mournful howl. The sound faded into a hollow echo, and then absolute silence. She was gone. She fell into a deep, heavy slumber, leaving me completely alone in my broken human shell.

"Plant the charges," the leader ordered, stepping over my paralyzed body. "Blow the door before reinforcements arrive."

"The fuses are soaked in blood!" the remaining Rogue complained, kneeling beside my head.

"Then dry them off and light them!" the leader barked.

I lay in a growing pool of my own blood, my cheek pressed against the cold tiles. My vision blurred, the edges of the hallway turning a fuzzy gray.

Directly above the bunker entrance, a small security camera stared down at me. A tiny red light blinked on its lens.

Active.

Adrian was in the control room. He was sitting in front of the monitors, watching the screen. He watched the Rogue leader strike my back. He watched my spine break. He watched me bleed out on the floor, all to keep the explosives away from the door that protected his new family. He watched his son's mother die so his precious Celeste could stay safe.

"Adrian," I whispered, blood bubbling past my lips. "Look at me."

The camera shifted slightly. The mechanical whir of the lens zooming in on my face echoed softly. He heard me. He was watching my life drain away.

The speaker above the camera clicked. Static hissed through the smoke.

Then Adrian's voice came through, calm enough to destroy me.

"Hold the seal. Do not open that door until the corridor is secure."

The last thing I heard before darkness took me was the bunker lock engaging a second time.