The phone slipped from my trembling fingers, clattering against the marble floor of my healing center. The sound echoed through the empty corridors like a death knell, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears.

"Dead." The word replayed in my mind, each repetition driving the knife deeper into my chest. My sister was dead.

I sank to my knees, my Luna composure crumbling as the reality crashed over me in waves. The patrol captain's words had been clinical, professional: "Rogue attack on the eastern border. One casualty. I'm sorry, Luna."

But it was the footage that destroyed me.

My hands shook as I pulled up the security feed on my tablet, the screen blurring through my tears. There it was, clear as daylight—Carmen Silva, our pack's Beta female, leading a group of rogues directly to where my sister had been gathering herbs. Not stumbling upon them by accident. Not fighting to protect pack territory. Leading them.

The betrayal cut deeper than grief. Carmen, who had sat at our dinner table. Carmen, who had sworn loyalty to our pack. Carmen, who had been my friend.

The healing center's front door burst open, and I looked up to see Malaya rushing toward me, her face streaked with tears. She dropped beside me, pulling me into her arms as we both dissolved into anguish.

"I saw the footage too," she whispered against my hair. "Liana, Carmen killed her. She led those rogues right to her."

Rage began to burn through my grief, hot and consuming. I pulled back from Malaya's embrace, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. "We have to tell Weston. He needs to see this evidence."

Malaya's expression darkened. "Do you really think he'll listen? He's been spending an awful lot of time with Carmen lately."

I stood on unsteady legs, my Luna strength beginning to reassert itself. "He's my mate. He's our Alpha. He'll demand justice for our pack."

But even as I said the words, doubt crept into my voice like poison.

---

Twenty minutes later, I stood outside Weston's office, the tablet containing the damning footage clutched in my hands. My heart hammered against my ribs as I raised my fist to knock, but the door swung open before I could make contact.

Weston stood there, tall and imposing in his perfectly pressed shirt, his dark hair slightly disheveled. His green eyes, usually warm when they looked at me, seemed distant and cold.

"Liana." His voice was flat, emotionless. "I heard about the attack."

"Weston, I need to show you something. The footage from the patrol cameras—"

"I've already reviewed the security feeds." He stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter his office. "It was a tragic accident. Rogues breached our border defenses."

I moved past him, my wolf bristling at his dismissive tone. "It wasn't an accident. Look at this." I thrust the tablet toward him, the video already queued. "Carmen led them directly to her location. This was planned, Weston. This was murder."

He barely glanced at the screen before setting it aside. "You're grief-stricken. You're seeing things that aren't there."

My Luna aura flared, filling the room with my outrage. "I'm seeing exactly what happened! Carmen betrayed our pack. She killed my sister, and you're going to let her get away with it?"

Weston's eyes flashed gold, his Alpha dominance rising to meet my challenge. "You will not make accusations against my Beta without concrete proof."

"The footage IS proof!" I snatched the tablet back, replaying the damning video. "Look at it, Weston. Really look."

He moved to his desk, pulling out a manila folder. "I have proof too, Liana. Proof that Carmen was on the opposite side of the territory when the attack occurred. Witness statements. Radio logs."

The folder landed on his desk with a heavy thud, and I stared at it in disbelief. "Those are fabricated. You know they are."

"I know that my Beta has served this pack faithfully for years." His voice carried the unmistakable edge of his Alpha authority. "I will not see her destroyed by your grief-fueled paranoia."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled backward, my mate bond screaming in protest at his betrayal. "She's not just your Beta, is she?"

Weston's jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it.

"Answer me!" My voice cracked with pain and fury. "Is Carmen more than your Beta?"

He straightened to his full height, every inch the Alpha who had never been challenged. "What Carmen is to me is none of your concern. What matters is that she's innocent, and I will protect her from your baseless accusations."

The mate bond that had once been my greatest joy now felt like chains around my soul, binding me to a man who would choose another woman over justice for my family. Over me.

Three days after my sister's death, I stood before the pack council with trembling hands and a heart full of righteous fury. The council chamber felt smaller than usual, its mahogany walls seeming to close in as five pairs of eyes avoided my gaze.

"Honored council members," I began, my Luna voice carrying across the room despite the quiver in my chest. "I come before you seeking justice for the murder of my sister."

Elder Morrison shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his weathered fingers drumming against the polished table. "Luna, we understand your grief, but—"

"This isn't grief speaking." I placed the tablet on the table, the damning footage already queued. "This is evidence. Carmen Silva led rogues directly to my sister's location. She orchestrated her death."

The council members exchanged nervous glances, but none reached for the tablet. My wolf prowled restlessly beneath my skin, sensing their reluctance like a predator scents fear.

"We've already discussed this matter with Alpha Grant," Councilwoman Hayes said quietly, her usual warmth replaced by careful neutrality. "The Alpha has provided... alternative evidence that contradicts your claims."

My Luna aura flared, filling the chamber with my growing rage. "Alternative evidence? You mean the fabricated witness statements and falsified radio logs?"

Elder Morrison's face flushed red. "Luna Thompson, you're making very serious accusations—"

"Against a murderer!" I slammed my palm against the table, the sound echoing like a gunshot. "Watch the footage. All of you. Look at what she did."

But they wouldn't. They sat there like cowards, their eyes fixed on everything except the tablet containing the truth.

That's when I understood. The realization hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs.

"He threatened you," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Weston threatened all of you."

The silence that followed was deafening. Elder Morrison cleared his throat, his voice strained. "The Alpha has made his position clear. This matter is closed."

I stared at them—these wolves I had served, had healed, had protected as their Luna—and saw only strangers. Cowards who would let a murderer walk free rather than face their Alpha's wrath.

"Then I'll find justice elsewhere," I said, snatching the tablet from the table. "The pack warriors will stand with me. They'll demand the truth."

But even as I spoke the words, doubt crept into my voice like poison.

---

The pack house training grounds buzzed with activity as I approached, my heart hammering against my ribs. Marcus Reed, our head warrior, noticed me first. His expression shifted from respectful acknowledgment to something resembling pity.

"Luna," he said carefully, his usual warmth replaced by professional distance.

"Marcus, I need to speak with you and the warriors. It's about my sister's death."

The training ground fell silent. Twenty pairs of eyes turned toward me, but instead of the support I expected, I saw discomfort and avoidance.

"Luna," Marcus said quietly, "the Alpha has made his orders clear. No pack member is to assist in any investigation or action against Beta Silva."

My wolf snarled inside my chest. "She murdered my sister!"

"The Alpha says otherwise." Marcus's voice was steady, but I caught the flicker of conflict in his eyes. "Anyone who defies his direct command faces exile."

Exile. The word hit me like a slap. Weston was using the ultimate threat—banishment from pack and family—to silence anyone who might support me.

"So you'll all just stand by?" My voice cracked with betrayal and desperation. "You'll let a murderer walk free because my mate commands it?"

The warriors shifted uncomfortably, but none spoke. These wolves who had sworn to protect the pack, who had trained under my guidance, who had called me Luna with respect and affection—they were choosing their Alpha over justice.

Over me.

I turned and walked away, my spine straight despite the crushing weight of isolation settling over my shoulders. Behind me, I heard the whispered conversations resume, but the words felt distant and meaningless.

I was alone.

---

The pack house's main hall echoed with my footsteps as I stormed through the corridors, fury and heartbreak warring in my chest. I found Weston in his study, leaning back in his leather chair with the casual arrogance of a man who believed himself untouchable.

"Enjoying your victory?" I asked, my voice dripping with venom.

He looked up from his paperwork, his green eyes cold and calculating. "I don't know what you mean."

"The council. The warriors. You threatened them all."

Weston set down his pen with deliberate slowness. "I protected my pack from unnecessary division and chaos."

"You protected a murderer!"

He stood, his Alpha presence filling the room like a suffocating blanket. "I protected my Beta from your baseless accusations."

Rage consumed me, burning away the last remnants of my respect for this man I had once loved. "She killed my sister, Weston. And you're choosing her over me. Over our mate bond. Over everything we built together."

"What I'm choosing," he said, moving to his safe and withdrawing a thick envelope, "is peace." He threw the envelope at my feet, bills scattering across the Persian rug. "Take the money. Grieve your sister properly. And drop this ridiculous crusade."

I stared at the money—more than most pack members saw in a year—and felt something break inside my chest. "You think you can buy my silence?"

"I think you're being emotional and irrational. Your sister was weak, Liana. A pathetic omega who couldn't defend herself against a simple rogue attack." His voice was brutal, clinical. "She's not worth destroying our pack's stability."

The words hit me like physical blows. My sister—gentle, kind, beloved by everyone who knew her—reduced to 'weak' and 'pathetic' by the man who was supposed to protect all pack members.

"Get out," I whispered, my voice shaking with rage.

"This is my office—"

"GET OUT!" My Luna aura exploded outward, rattling the windows and sending papers flying. "Before I do something we'll both regret."

Weston's eyes flashed gold, his Alpha dominance rising to meet my challenge, but something in my expression made him step back. Without another word, he left me alone with the scattered money and the devastating realization that my mate—my supposed other half—had just bought and paid for my sister's death.

The healing center felt hollow without its usual bustle of patients and staff. I sat at my desk, staring at the scattered papers before me—testimonies I'd been collecting, witness statements that painted a damning picture of Carmen's activities in the weeks leading up to my sister's death.

The soft knock on my door made me look up. Malaya stepped inside, her arms full of folders and her expression grim but determined.

"I've been busy," she said without preamble, setting the folders on my desk. "You're not the only one who wants answers."

I opened the first folder, my heart racing as I read the handwritten statement inside. "Elder Iris saw Carmen meeting with unknown wolves at the eastern border three times in the past month," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Malaya nodded, pulling out another document. "And Marcus's youngest warrior, Jake, reported strange scents near the herb gathering areas—rogue scents that Carmen dismissed when he brought them to her attention."

My hands trembled as I flipped through page after page of evidence. Pack members who had noticed Carmen's secretive behavior, her unexplained absences, her dismissive attitude toward security concerns in areas where rogues later struck.

"Why didn't they come forward before?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Because they trusted their Beta," Malaya said bitterly. "And because questioning a ranked wolf's behavior isn't something most pack members feel comfortable doing."

I pressed my palms against my eyes, feeling the weight of all this evidence crushing down on me. "Weston will say it's all circumstantial. He'll find ways to explain it away."

"Then we make sure the truth spreads before he can silence it," Malaya said firmly. "These pack members deserve to know what really happened. They deserve to know their Beta betrayed them."

But even as she spoke, I could see the doubt in her eyes. We both knew the power Weston wielded, the fear he could instill with a single Alpha command.

As if summoned by our conversation, my phone buzzed with an incoming call. The caller ID made my blood run cold: Carmen Silva.

"Don't answer it," Malaya warned, but I was already swiping to accept.

"Hello, Liana," Carmen's voice was honey-sweet, dripping with false concern. "I heard you've been having a difficult time since your loss. I wanted to check on you."

"Cut the act, Carmen. I know what you did."

A soft laugh echoed through the phone. "Oh, honey. I'm afraid grief has made you quite confused. The pack is starting to notice."

My grip tightened on the phone. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, when a Luna starts making wild accusations against loyal pack members, people begin to wonder about her mental state. It's quite sad, really. First you lose your sister, and now you're losing your grip on reality."

Rage flared in my chest, hot and consuming. "You murdering bitch—"

"Such language from our Luna," Carmen tsked. "I do hope you'll seek the help you clearly need. Perhaps some time away from pack duties would do you good."

The line went dead, leaving me staring at my phone in fury and disbelief.

"What did she say?" Malaya demanded.

Before I could answer, my phone rang again. This time it was Healer Iris, one of my most trusted colleagues.

"Liana," Iris's voice was tight with worry. "I need to warn you. Carmen's been spreading rumors. She's telling everyone that you're having a breakdown, that you're fabricating evidence against innocent pack members."

My stomach dropped. "What kind of rumors?"

"She's saying you've been hallucinating, seeing things in the security footage that aren't there. She's got half the pack convinced that you're mentally unstable from grief."

I sank into my chair, the weight of Carmen's calculated cruelty settling over me like a suffocating blanket. She wasn't just covering up her crime—she was systematically destroying my credibility, turning my own pack against me.

"There's more," Iris continued reluctantly. "She's been visiting pack members who gave you statements. Suggesting they might have been mistaken about what they saw. Some of them are already backing down, saying they don't want to get involved in 'Luna's delusions.'"

Malaya's face darkened with fury. "She's using her Beta authority to intimidate witnesses."

"And it's working," I whispered, feeling the walls closing in around me. "She's not just destroying the evidence—she's destroying me."

The healing center suddenly felt less like a sanctuary and more like a trap. Carmen was playing a game I hadn't even realized had started, and she was winning.