The sterile scent of wolfsbane and healing herbs filled my nostrils as I cradled Eliza's trembling body against my chest. Her small frame convulsed in my arms, her breathing shallow and ragged as her weak wolf struggled desperately to surface. This was the ninety-ninth time. I'd counted every single visit to Dr. Helena Morrison's clinic, each one carving another piece from my heart.

"Luna, I need you to hold her steady," Dr. Morrison's voice cut through my panic, her experienced hands moving swiftly to prepare an emergency injection. "Her wolf is fighting too hard against her human form."

I pressed my lips to Eliza's damp forehead, whispering soft reassurances while my Luna aura pulsed outward in protective waves. The golden energy wrapped around my daughter like a cocoon, and I felt her wolf respond, gradually settling under the influence of my power. Her convulsions slowed, then stopped entirely.

"Mama," Eliza's voice was barely a whisper, her green eyes—so much like Evan's—fluttering open. "Did I... did I shift this time?"

The hope in her voice shattered something inside me. "Not yet, sweetheart. But your wolf is getting stronger. I can feel her."

It wasn't entirely a lie. I could sense the presence of Eliza's wolf, a fragile silver thread of consciousness that flickered like a candle in the wind. But she was there, fighting to emerge despite her weakened state.

Dr. Morrison finished administering the stabilizing medication and stepped back, her weathered face creased with concern. "The episodes are becoming more frequent, Luna. This is the third one this week."

I nodded, unable to trust my voice. Where was Evan? Our daughter was fighting for her life, and he was... where exactly? A bitter taste filled my mouth as I realized I didn't even know.

"Will you stay with her while I fetch some additional herbs?" Dr. Morrison asked, already moving toward her supply cabinet.

Alone with Eliza, I smoothed her dark hair back from her pale face. She looked so small on the examination table, so fragile. The pack whispered about her condition—I heard them sometimes, when they thought I wasn't listening. *The Alpha's weak heir. A burden on the bloodline.*

"Mama, why doesn't Daddy come anymore?" Eliza's question hit me like a physical blow.

I forced a smile, even as my heart cracked further. "He's very busy with pack duties, sweetheart. Being an Alpha means—"

"He doesn't want me to be Alpha, does he?" Her voice was matter-of-fact, too knowing for a five-year-old. "Because I'm broken."

"You are not broken," I said fiercely, my Luna aura flaring with protective fury. "You are perfect exactly as you are, Eliza Stone. Don't you ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

But even as I spoke the words, doubt gnawed at me. Was I failing her? Was my love enough to protect her from the harsh realities of pack politics?

Hours later, after Dr. Morrison had declared Eliza stable enough to return home, I carried my sleeping daughter through the pack house corridors. The familiar scents of our territory should have been comforting, but something felt... wrong. My wolf stirred uneasily, her senses picking up an unfamiliar feminine scent threading through the air.

I paused outside Evan's office, Eliza's weight warm in my arms. The scent was stronger here—floral and cloying, with an underlying musk that made my wolf's hackles rise. It was the scent of arousal, of intimacy, of another she-wolf.

My mate bond, already strained from months of Evan's emotional distance, suddenly pulled taut with painful clarity. Through our connection, I felt his presence just beyond the heavy oak door. But he wasn't alone.

With trembling fingers, I reached for the door handle. Some part of me screamed to walk away, to pretend I hadn't noticed anything. But I was Luna of this pack. I had every right to enter my mate's office.

The door swung open silently on well-oiled hinges.

What I saw inside would haunt me forever.

Evan stood behind his desk, his strong hands tangled in the auburn hair of Miley Castillo. Her back was pressed against his chest, her head tilted to give him access to her neck. His lips moved against her skin in a way that was achingly familiar—the same way he used to kiss me.

Miley's eyes met mine over Evan's shoulder, and for just a moment, I saw triumph flash in their depths before she schooled her expression into one of shock.

"Clare," Evan's voice was steady, unashamed. He didn't even have the decency to look guilty as he slowly released Miley and turned to face me. "How is Eliza?"

The casual way he asked about our daughter—as if he hadn't missed her ninety-ninth medical emergency—sent rage flooding through my veins. My mate bond screamed in agony, the sacred connection that had once been my greatest joy now a source of unbearable pain.

"She almost died today," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the roaring in my ears. "And you... you were here. With her."

Evan's jaw tightened. "Miley understands the pressures of leadership, Clare. She knows what it means to put the pack first."

The words hit me like silver bullets, each one designed to wound. I staggered backward, Eliza stirring in my arms as my distress leaked through my carefully controlled aura.

Our mate bond, already fractured by months of neglect and indifference, began to splinter completely. The pain was excruciating—a soul-deep agony that threatened to bring me to my knees.

But I remained standing. For Eliza. For myself.

For what little dignity I had left.

The sound of Miley's laughter echoed through the pack house corridors as I clutched Eliza's hand, our meager belongings stuffed into two worn duffel bags. The servants' wing. After five years as Luna, I was being relegated to the quarters where omega staff lived.

"Mama, why are we moving?" Eliza's voice was small, confused. Her green eyes—so much like her father's—searched my face for answers I couldn't give.

"We need a change of scenery, sweetheart," I managed, forcing brightness into my tone even as my heart shattered with each step away from the Luna quarters I'd called home.

Behind us, I could hear the pack workers moving Miley's belongings into my former rooms. My sanctuary. The place where I'd nursed Eliza through countless nights when her wolf was too weak to settle. Where Evan and I had once planned our future together.

The servants' quarters were cramped, with thin walls that would offer no privacy from the whispers I knew would follow. As I helped Eliza arrange her few toys on the narrow bed, my wolf whimpered in distress. The mate bond pulled painfully in my chest, a constant reminder of what I was losing.

"Clare." Evan's voice made me freeze. He stood in the doorway, his Alpha presence filling the small space. "This is temporary. Just until we sort things out."

I didn't turn around. Couldn't. "Sort what out, exactly? Your affair? Or the fact that you're publicly humiliating your mate and daughter?"

"Don't be dramatic." His tone was cold, dismissive. "Miley understands pack politics. She knows what it takes to support an Alpha."

The implication hung heavy between us—that I didn't. That I had failed him somehow.

That evening, the pack gathered for our monthly dinner in the great hall. I sat at the far end of the high table, Eliza beside me picking at her food. My usual seat—at Evan's right hand—was now occupied by Miley, who wore a flowing red dress that left little to the imagination.

I pulled out my phone discreetly, pretending to check messages while actually documenting what was happening. The way Evan's hand rested possessively on Miley's thigh. How she leaned into him, whispering in his ear until he smiled—a expression I hadn't seen directed at me in months.

Click. The photo captured them mid-laugh, Miley's head thrown back in apparent delight.

Around us, pack members shifted uncomfortably. Beta Marcus Wells caught my eye and quickly looked away, shame written across his features. The pack nanny, Sarah, kept shooting worried glances between me and Eliza.

"Isn't this cozy?" Miley's voice carried across the table, sweet as poisoned honey. "Just like a real family."

My wolf snarled inside me, but I kept my expression neutral. For Eliza's sake.

Another photo. This one showed Evan's hand tangled in Miley's auburn hair as she fed him a piece of fruit. The intimate gesture made several pack members clear their throats awkwardly.

I was building a case, gathering evidence of his betrayal. Though for what purpose, I wasn't entirely sure yet.

"Mama, I don't feel good," Eliza whispered beside me.

I looked down at her plate and froze. Mixed in with her vegetables were small, dark leaves that definitely hadn't been there when the meal was served. Wolfsbane. My blood turned to ice.

"Don't eat anymore," I said quickly, pushing her plate away.

But it was too late. Eliza's face was already pale, her breathing becoming labored. Her weak wolf was reacting to the toxic herb, her small body beginning to convulse.

"Help!" I cried out, catching Eliza as she slumped forward. "Someone help her!"

Chaos erupted around us. Pack members jumped to their feet, chairs scraping against stone. But through it all, I saw Miley's face—and the flash of satisfaction in her eyes before she schooled her expression into concern.

She had done this. Deliberately poisoned my daughter.

Rage unlike anything I'd ever felt before exploded through me. My Luna aura erupted outward in a golden wave of protective fury, so powerful that wolves throughout the hall dropped to their knees in submission. The very air crackled with my power as I gathered Eliza against my chest.

"Stay away from her!" I snarled at Miley, my voice carrying the full authority of my Luna rank. "Don't you dare come near my daughter!"

The magical backlash hit me like a physical blow. Using my aura with such intensity while emotionally compromised sent shockwaves through my own wolf, and I felt something tear deep inside my chest. Pain lanced through me, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered except protecting Eliza.

Evan finally moved, reaching for our daughter, but I pulled back.

"Don't touch her," I whispered, my voice deadly quiet. "You've done enough."

As I carried Eliza toward the door, her small body trembling against mine, I felt the eyes of the entire pack on us. The Luna and her broken daughter, fleeing from the very wolves who should have protected them.

But in that moment, I realized something that would change everything: I was done being a victim. Done accepting scraps of affection and respect.

Miley had just made a fatal mistake. She'd threatened my child.

And there was nothing more dangerous than a mother wolf protecting her young.

The acrid smell of wolfsbane still clung to my clothes as I knelt beside Eliza's bed in the pack clinic, my hands trembling as I smoothed her dark hair back from her pale forehead. Blood had dried on my palms from where my Luna aura had torn through me like shattered glass, the magical backlash leaving me weak and hollow.

"She's stable now," Dr. Morrison whispered, her weathered hands gentle as she checked Eliza's pulse. "But Clare, this wasn't an accident. The concentration of wolfsbane in her system—someone deliberately—"

The clinic door burst open with enough force to rattle the glass bottles on the shelves. Evan's presence filled the room like a thunderstorm, his Alpha aura crackling with barely contained fury. But when his eyes landed on me, kneeling bloodied beside our daughter's bed, there was no concern. Only cold, cutting anger.

"What the hell happened?" His voice was ice, each word a blade. "How could you let this happen to her?"

I stared at him, speechless. After everything—after finding him with Miley, after being banished to the servants' quarters, after watching him parade his mistress in front of the entire pack—he was blaming me?

"Evan, please," Dr. Morrison interjected, stepping between us. "The wolfsbane was mixed into Eliza's food. Someone targeted her specifically. The amount, the placement—this was deliberate poisoning."

"Excuses." Evan's jaw clenched, his gaze never leaving my face. "You're her mother, Clare. You're supposed to protect her. Instead, you're so busy playing the victim that you can't even keep our daughter safe."

The words hit me like physical blows. My mate bond, already fractured beyond repair, screamed in agony as his rejection of me—of us—became absolute. I felt something inside me break completely, a final thread snapping under the weight of his cruelty.

"I used my Luna aura to save her life," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "While you were too busy with your mistress to even notice your daughter was dying."

Evan's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't you dare—"

"Alpha Stone." Dr. Morrison's voice cut through his rage like a scalpel. "With respect, your mate nearly killed herself protecting Eliza tonight. The magical backlash from using her aura in that state could have stopped her heart. She chose to risk her own life for your daughter's."

But Evan had already turned away, dismissing both the doctor's words and my sacrifice with a wave of his hand. "Fix her," he commanded, his tone flat and emotionless. "Both of them. I have pack business to attend to."

He left without another word, without even looking at Eliza's unconscious form. The door slammed behind him, and in the sudden silence, I heard Dr. Morrison's sharp intake of breath.

"Luna," she said softly, "this can't continue. What he's doing to you, to Eliza—"

"I know." The words tasted like ash in my mouth.

Three days later, while Eliza napped fitfully in our cramped servants' quarters, I heard Miley's voice drifting through the thin walls. She was speaking to someone on the phone, her tone hushed but excited.

"Yes, I have the gold," she whispered. "And I can guarantee safe passage through Silver Moon territory for the next month. All I need are the documents we discussed."

My wolf stirred uneasily. Documents? What kind of documents required gold and safe passage as payment?

"Make sure they look authentic," Miley continued. "The bloodline markers need to show... inconsistencies. Yes, that's right. Make it look like the child isn't his."

My blood turned to ice. Bloodline tests. She was talking about forging bloodline tests.

I pressed my ear closer to the wall, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"I don't care what it costs," Miley's voice was sharp with determination. "Just make sure no one can prove they're fake. The Alpha needs to believe his daughter isn't really his blood. Once he sees those results..."

The rest of her words faded as she moved away from the wall, but I'd heard enough. Miley wasn't just stealing my mate—she was planning to destroy Eliza's legitimacy as Alpha heir. To make Evan believe his own daughter was a bastard.

I sank onto the narrow bed, my hands shaking as the full scope of her plan became clear. She'd poisoned Eliza to make me look negligent. Now she was forging evidence to make Evan question Eliza's parentage entirely.

And knowing Evan's current state of mind, his anger and disappointment with both of us, he would believe whatever lie she presented.

My daughter was about to lose everything—her father, her birthright, her place in the pack. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

The mate bond pulsed weakly in my chest, a dying ember of what we'd once shared. Soon, even that would be gone.