The darkness that had claimed me felt like drowning in ice water, but somewhere in that suffocating void, I felt him. Preston's presence blazed through our dormant mind-link like wildfire, his fury so intense it pulled me back from the brink of unconsciousness.

*I'm coming,* his voice echoed in my mind, carrying a promise that made my shattered wolf whimper with desperate hope. *Hold on, Carolina. Just hold on.*

I drifted in and out of awareness, vaguely conscious of voices arguing above me, of Sloane's sharp laughter, of Vincent's increasingly agitated tone. The metallic taste of blood coated my mouth, and every breath felt like glass shards tearing through my lungs. Luna was so quiet within me that I feared she might be dying, taking with her any chance I had of ever bearing children again.

Then the pack house doors exploded open with a force that shook the entire building.

The temperature in the room plummeted as Preston's Lycan aura flooded the space like a tidal wave of raw power. I felt it wash over me even in my broken state—ancient, overwhelming authority that made every wolf within a mile radius drop to their knees in instinctive submission. Through my blurred vision, I saw Vincent stumble backward from his desk, his face draining of color as his Alpha confidence crumbled like sand.

"What have you done?" Preston's voice carried the weight of royal command, each word crackling with barely contained violence. His tall frame filled the doorway, his usually controlled demeanor replaced by something primal and terrifying. His eyes blazed with wolf-gold fire as they swept the scene—me bleeding on the floor, the adoption papers scattered across Vincent's desk, Sloane's phone still recording.

Behind him, a woman with silver-streaked hair and gentle hands rushed to my side. "Elena Martinez, Royal Healer," she murmured, her voice soothing as cool water. "Prince Preston sent me. Let me help you, Luna."

Her touch was immediate relief, warm healing energy flowing through my broken body as she assessed the damage. I wanted to thank her, to ask about my babies, but only a weak whimper escaped my lips.

"She's hemorrhaging internally," Elena called to Preston, her professional calm barely masking her horror. "The traumatic mate bond severing has caused severe complications. I need to stabilize her immediately."

Preston's attention snapped to Vincent with lethal focus. "Explain. Now." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper that made the windows rattle. "Why is my—why is Carolina bleeding out on your floor while you stand there doing nothing?"

Vincent's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. The Alpha who had commanded me so coldly minutes ago now looked like a child caught in a lie. "She... the adoption papers... Sloane said—"

"The adoption papers for her triplets?" Preston's voice rose to a roar that shook dust from the ceiling. "You forced a Luna to abandon her six-month-old pups?"

Sloane stepped forward, her phone still clutched in her manicured hands, a calculating gleam in her green eyes. "Prince Preston, this is pack business. You have no authority here." Her voice carried false sweetness, but I caught the slight tremor of fear underneath. "Besides, shouldn't you be concerned about territorial violations? Coming here to rescue another Alpha's mate could be seen as... inappropriate."

The temperature dropped another ten degrees as Preston's fury reached volcanic levels. "Another Alpha's mate?" He laughed, but the sound held no humor—only promises of destruction. "Look at her, you pathetic excuse for a Luna. Look at what your manipulation has done."

Elena's healing energy pulsed through me, and I felt some of the crushing pain ease. "The internal damage is extensive," she whispered, her hands glowing with soft silver light. "The rejection trauma has damaged her reproductive system. She may never be able to carry pups again."

The words hit like physical blows, and I heard Luna's broken whimper echo through my consciousness. My babies. My future babies. All gone because of Vincent's weakness and Sloane's cruelty.

Preston's control finally snapped. Power exploded from him in waves, his Lycan authority so overwhelming that Vincent dropped to one knee involuntarily. "You will explain exactly what happened here," Preston commanded, his voice carrying the weight of royal decree. "And then you will explain why you thought destroying a Luna and her pups was acceptable pack leadership."

Sloane raised her phone higher, her smile turning predatory. "Actually, Prince Preston, I think the pack networks would be very interested to see how quickly you rushed here to defend another wolf's mate. Such... devotion could be misinterpreted."

The threat hung in the air like poison, but Preston's golden eyes never left her face. When he smiled, it was all teeth and promised retribution.

"Record away, Miss Webb," he said softly. "I want everyone to see exactly what kind of monsters you and your weak Alpha truly are."

Three days had passed since Preston's explosive arrival, and I lay in the pack house medical wing, Elena's healing light flowing through me like warm honey. The physical pain had dulled to a manageable ache, but the emotional devastation felt fresh and raw with each breath. My wolf Luna stirred weakly within me, no longer the vibrant presence she'd once been.

As Elena's silver energy worked through my damaged reproductive system, memories surfaced like poison bubbling up from a deep well. I saw them now with terrible clarity—the moments I'd dismissed as Vincent's natural Alpha stress, the subtle changes I'd attributed to pack pressures.

It had started six months ago. Sloane arriving as a "pack consultant," her sweet smile and helpful suggestions about pack efficiency. The way she'd lean close to Vincent during meetings, whispering concerns about pack strength and Alpha legacy. How she'd casually mentioned other packs where "multiple heirs had caused civil wars" and "divided leadership."

"Luna Carolina," she'd said one evening, her green eyes wide with false concern, "I hope you don't mind me saying, but triplets are such a burden on pack resources. And with Vincent's bloodline being so pure, wouldn't it be better to focus that strength into one perfect heir?"

I'd laughed it off then, secure in Vincent's love and our bond. But the seed had been planted.

The changes came gradually. Vincent's hands growing cold when he touched me. His eyes distant during family dinners. The way he'd flinch when our babies cried, as if their voices physically pained him.

"They're so demanding," he'd muttered one night, watching me nurse little Emma while the boys fussed in their cribs. "How is an Alpha supposed to focus on pack security with all this... chaos?"

Sloane had been there, of course, offering to help with "pack duties" while I tended to the children. Always ready with statistics about successful Alphas who'd had single heirs, stories about packs that had fallen due to "divided succession."

"Elena," I whispered as another wave of healing energy pulsed through me, "will I ever be able to have children again?"

The healer's gentle hands stilled for a moment. "The damage is extensive, Luna. The traumatic severing, combined with the emotional shock... your wolf's reproductive instincts have been severely compromised. I cannot say for certain."

Tears slipped down my cheeks as Luna whimpered in my mind. My babies were gone, and any hope of future children might be gone too.

A soft knock interrupted my grief. Elena glanced toward the door, her expression darkening. "Miss Webb wishes to see you, Luna. I can tell her you're resting."

"Let her come," I said, steel entering my voice despite my weakness. "I want to see her face."

Sloane entered with a bouquet of white roses, her expression perfectly crafted sympathy. She wore a cream-colored dress that emphasized her innocence, her blonde hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders.

"Oh, Carolina," she breathed, setting the flowers on my bedside table. "I'm so sorry about your... complications. Vincent is beside himself with worry."

Lies. All of it lies. But I let her continue.

"I brought you something to cheer you up," she said, pulling out her phone with practiced casualness. "Some photos from yesterday when Prince Preston was caring for you. He's so... attentive."

The screen showed images of Preston kneeling beside my unconscious form, his hand gently stroking my hair. Another of him lifting me carefully, his face etched with concern. In the photos, his touch looked intimate, protective in a way that could easily be misinterpreted.

"Such devotion," Sloane murmured, swiping to the next image. "One might wonder how long this... friendship has been developing. Vincent was quite upset when he saw these."

My blood ran cold. "You took these while I was unconscious? While I was bleeding?"

"The pack networks are already buzzing," she continued as if I hadn't spoken. "The Lycan Prince rushing to save another Alpha's mate? It raises questions about loyalty, about fidelity. About what really caused your... breakdown."

Elena stepped forward, her healer's aura flaring with protective energy. "Miss Webb, Luna Carolina needs rest—"

"Of course," Sloane smiled, pocketing her phone. "I just wanted her to know that Vincent will need some space while this scandal settles. Pack unity is so important, don't you think?"

After she left, I stared at the white roses, their pure petals mocking me. Through the medical wing windows, I could see pack members gathering in small groups, their whispered conversations and furtive glances directed toward the building.

The poison had spread. And I was powerless to stop it.