"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.

Hospital antiseptic burned my nostrils. I dragged my eyelids open, blinded by the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Panic spiked in my chest. I tried to kick off the thin white blanket to escape the suffocating heat of the room, commanding my knees to bend.

Nothing happened.

Below my waist, a terrifying void replaced my lower half. I slammed my working hand against my thigh. The sharp slap echoed off the walls, but my skin registered zero sensation.

"Your spine sustained catastrophic damage," Dr. Warren said. He stood at the foot of my bed, a metal clipboard pressed tightly to his chest. He refused to meet my eyes, focusing entirely on the chart in his hands. "The lower vertebrae were crushed by a massive blunt force. We stabilized the fractures during emergency surgery, removing the bone fragments that pierced the spinal canal. However, the nerve severance is extensive."

"Define extensive," I demanded, my voice raw and entirely devoid of moisture.

"You face a long rehabilitation period in a wheelchair," the doctor replied, shifting his weight nervously. He pointed a silver pen toward my motionless legs. "The spinal cord was nearly severed at the lumbar level. Full mobility is highly unlikely. We will schedule physical therapy to maintain muscle tone, but you must prepare for permanent paralysis."

"Leave us," Adrian ordered from the corner of the room.

"I am so sorry," Adrian whispered, his voice cracking. "I tried to stop the door. I really did."

"You stood next to the manual override," I said, my tone sounding like dry gravel. "You put your arms around Lucas."

"The situation was complete chaos!" Adrian argued, squeezing my knuckles tight enough to grind the bones. "Celeste was screaming in my ear. The emergency sirens were deafening. By the time I realized Lucas hit the lockdown sequence, the gears were already grinding."

"You looked right at me through the gap," I stated. "You saw me carrying Clara."

"You were too far down the corridor," Adrian insisted, leaning closer. "If I stopped the door, the Rogues would have breached the safe room. They would have slaughtered everyone inside."

"The Rogues were fifty yards away," I countered. "I was five yards from the threshold. I dragged an injured maid the entire way while you stood there."

"I had to make a split-second decision to protect the pack," Adrian pleaded, reaching his free hand out to brush a strand of singed hair from my forehead.

I flinched away from his touch. "You risked your mate to protect another woman."

"Do not do this," he warned, his tone hardening slightly. "I love you. We will get through this together. I will hire the best physical therapists in the territory. You will walk again."

"You watched me bleed out on the floor," I said. "You watched the control room camera feed."

Adrian dropped his gaze to the linoleum floor. "I had to ensure the explosives did not detonate near the frame. I was monitoring the perimeter."

"You monitored my execution."

"I kept our son safe!" Adrian raised his voice, defensive anger replacing his guilt. "I kept the pack safe. I made the hard Alpha choice, and you are alive. That is what matters. You are turning a tactical decision into a personal attack."

"You let Clara die," I said.

Adrian stiffened. "Casualties happen in a raid. You know this."

The heavy wooden door pushed open. Lucas shuffled into the room. His neon-green hoodie was gone, replaced by a clean, pressed gray shirt. He stopped just inside the threshold. He did not run to my side. He did not cry. His gaze flicked over the thick white bandages wrapping my ribs and shoulders, then darted to the blank television mounted on the wall.

"Come here, Lucas," Adrian coaxed, gesturing with his hand. "Talk to your mother."

"Are you going to yell at me?" Lucas asked.

"No," I replied softly.

"Good." Lucas kicked the metal leg of the hospital bed. "Because I was right. You survived."

"What did you say?" I asked.

"You are alive," Lucas stated, his tone rising with defensive confidence. "You fought off the monsters just like you always do. If I left the door open, Celeste might have gotten hurt. She doesn't know how to fight. You do."

"You locked me outside with three Rogues," I pointed out, testing the absolute limits of his empathy. "They broke my back."

"And you won!" Lucas argued, throwing his hands up in frustration. "So since you lived, it proves I didn't make the wrong choice. You are just hurt. Celeste would have died if they got inside. She doesn't have a wolf."

Ice flooded my veins. The profound chill seeped into my chest, wrapping around my heart and squeezing until the organ simply stopped beating. I did not scream. I did not throw my water pitcher across the room. I felt absolutely nothing for the Alpha sitting beside me. I felt absolutely nothing for the son standing at the foot of my bed. The fierce, suffocating love I harbored for this family evaporated into the sterile hospital air.

I looked down at Adrian's hand gripping mine.

"Get out," I said.

Adrian blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "You are just upset. The medication is making you irrational."

"Get out of my room," I repeated, my voice dropping to a flat, hollow pitch. "Both of you. Right now."

"Mom, you're being mean again," Lucas complained, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just said you did a good job fighting them. Celeste said you would be proud of me for protecting the weak."

"Leave," I commanded, staring directly at the wall.

Adrian stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. His jaw tightened in anger. "Fine. We will give you space to cool down. But you need to stop acting like a victim. You are the Luna. Start acting like one."

I waited until their footsteps faded down the corridor. Silence pressed against my ears. I reached my good arm under the flat hospital pillow. My fingers brushed against a small, hard square of plastic.

I pulled out the backup communicator. It was an outdated, bulky device, completely untraceable. I had hidden it inside my boot six years ago, transferring it to my jacket pocket only when I went into the field. The hospital staff had placed my ruined clothes in a plastic bag on the bedside table. I had dragged the device out before Dr. Warren arrived, sensing I would need it.

I flipped the screen open. The keypad glowed green across my bruised knuckles.

I typed in a twelve-digit encrypted number I had committed to memory over half a decade ago. I had sworn to myself I would never dial these digits. I had sworn I left my violent past behind to build a peaceful home with Adrian. That home no longer existed.

The line rang once. Twice.

A sharp click signaled the connection.

"Well, well," a smooth, cultured voice said through the tiny speaker. "I honestly thought you would never call me again, Rose."

I closed my eyes. "I need a way out, Elias."

"Then consider the Obsidian Network awake."