"A toast to our new Luna!" a voice roared over the clinking of crystal glasses.

I sat at a tiny table near the kitchen doors. The draft from the swinging hinges bit into my bare shoulders.

At the head table, Jessica stood up. She wore my white silk gown. The pearls Clara had pinned into my hair this morning now rested against Jessica’s throat.

"Thank you, everyone," Jessica projected, lifting a gold goblet. "The Moon Goddess brought me back to my true mate."

A chorus of cheers shook the banquet hall.

I stared at the empty chair across from me. Jacob hadn't joined the feast yet.

"Look at her," a woman muttered a few feet away. "Sitting in the shadows like a stray."

"A wolfless reject and a crippled Alpha," a male warrior chuckled. "A match made in the dirt."

I picked up a fork and traced the rim of my empty plate.

A shadow fell over my table.

Jessica stood there, flanked by two of Neo’s guards. The silk train of my dress pooled around her feet.

"Are you enjoying the party, Brenda?" Jessica asked.

"The music is a bit loud," I replied.

"I thought you might need a drink." She swirled the dark liquid in her glass. "It must be hard, watching someone else live the life you begged for."

I leaned back in the rickety wooden chair. "You can keep the dress, Jessica. It fits you a little loose anyway."

Her smile vanished. A muscle ticked beneath her eye.

She cut her gaze to the guard on her right.

The warrior stepped forward, his massive shoulder slamming directly into my side.

"Watch out!" he mocked, tipping a full pitcher of red wine.

The cold liquid splashed across my chest, soaking into my pale skin and ruining my clothes. It dripped down my chin and onto the floor.

The entire hall erupted in laughter.

"Clumsy," Jessica sneered. "Maybe you should go clean yourself up. You smell like a tavern floor."

I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand. I didn't cry. Instead, a dry, humorless chuckle escaped my lips.

The laughter around me suddenly died.

A sharp, deafening crash echoed across the marble floor.

Every head in the room snapped toward the entrance.

Jacob sat in his steel wheelchair. Shards of a broken champagne flute scattered around his tires.

He didn't yell. He didn't even raise his voice.

"Silence."

An invisible weight slammed into the room. The pressure forced several pack members to their knees. My chest tightened. It was the crushing power of an Alpha, suffocating and absolute.

Jacob wheeled himself forward. The crowd split wide open, scrambling out of his path.

He stopped right next to my table. His dark eyes swept over my wine-stained clothes.

"Who did this?" Jacob asked.

No one spoke.

"I will not ask again."

The guard who bumped me took a shaky step backward. "It was an accident, Jacob."

"Alpha Jacob," he corrected, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards.

Neo pushed through the crowd, his face flushed red. "Brother, this is my wedding feast. Do not cause a scene over a clumsy mistake."

Jacob shifted his stare to Neo. "She is my wife. She is the Luna of my household."

"She has no wolf!" Neo shouted.

"She carries my mark," Jacob countered. He gripped the armrests of his chair. "Anyone who disrespects her, disrespects me. If I see a single drop of wine on her again, I will tear out the throat of the man who spilled it. Do you understand?"

Neo opened his mouth, but the oppressive aura forced him to snap his jaw shut. He nodded once, stiffly.

Jacob turned his chair. "We are leaving, Brenda."

I stood up, ignoring the sticky wine clinging to my skin, and walked out behind him.

The cold night air hit my face the moment we exited the Great Hall.

We moved in silence down the cobblestone path toward the outer edge of the territory.

"Thank you," I said, breaking the quiet.

Jacob stopped his chair. He didn't look back at me.

"Save your gratitude," he said.

I frowned. "You defended me in there."

"I defended my name," Jacob replied. His tone held zero warmth. "You are my wife in name only. If they treat you like dirt, it makes me look weak. Do not misunderstand my actions."

The words stung. I crossed my arms over my chest, shivering in the damp night air.

"I understand," I told him.

"Good. Keep your head down and stay out of Neo's way."

He pushed his wheels forward again.

I stayed rooted to the spot for a second, fighting the knot in my throat. I refused to let him see me upset. I squared my shoulders and followed.

When I glanced up, Jacob had paused near the bend in the path. His head was turned slightly, his dark eyes fixed on me from over his shoulder. He watched me until I caught up, then immediately faced forward again.

Jacob’s quarters sat on the very edge of the pack lands.

No grand pillars. No servants. Just a dim, stone cabin surrounded by overgrown pine trees.

"Your room is on the left," Jacob said as we entered the narrow hallway. "I sleep on the right. Do not cross into my space."

"Fine."

I walked into the small bedroom. A single bed, a wooden dresser, and a dusty window.

I grabbed a towel from the washbasin and scrubbed the dried wine off my neck. I needed a distraction. I opened my small duffel bag and started unpacking my few belongings.

I pulled open the top drawer of the dresser.

It stuck halfway. I jiggled the handle, pulling harder.

The drawer yanked free. A hidden compartment beneath it popped open, spilling a manila folder onto the floorboards.

Papers scattered across the rug.

"Oops," I muttered, dropping to my knees to gather them.

My eyes caught the bold red letters stamped across the top page.

Confidential Medical Evaluation - Jacob Cross.

I shouldn't read it. I knew I shouldn't.

But the second line glued my eyes to the page.

Condition: Severe Wolf Core Deterioration.

I scanned the text rapidly. The border war hadn't just crushed his legs. The enemy Alpha had injected him with silver-laced venom. The poison had wrapped around his inner wolf.

Prognosis: Irreversible.

Estimated time remaining: Twelve months maximum.

My hands trembled. The paper rattled loudly in the quiet room.

He wasn't just crippled. He was dying.

A floorboard creaked.

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

I whipped my head around.

Jacob sat in the doorway. The shadows of the hallway hid half his face, but the fury rolling off him was unmistakable.

His eyes locked onto the medical report in my shaking hands.

"Who gave you permission to touch my things?" he asked softly.

"Who gave you permission to touch my things?"

Jacob’s voice was a low, dangerous rasp. He wheeled into the room, the metal frame of his chair clicking against the floorboards.

I didn’t drop the papers. My fingers gripped the medical report until the edges crinkled. "Twelve months, Jacob? You’re dying?"

He reached out, snatching the folder from my hand with a speed that made me jump. He shoved it back into the hidden drawer and slammed the wood shut.

"It’s an old report," he said, his jaw tight. "The doctors are alarmists."

"It’s dated last month. It says the silver venom is eating your core." I stepped closer, ignoring the cold wall of his aura. "Why didn't you tell me? Why would you marry me if you’re... if you’re leaving?"

Jacob looked up at me. His eyes were like flint. "You needed a name. I needed a way to piss off my brother. It was a business transaction, Brenda. Don't turn it into a tragedy."

"You’re lying. You’re in pain every day, aren't you?"

"I’m tired," he snapped. "Get out of my room. And stay out of my business. Don't let a little bit of pity make you feel special."

The words felt like a slap. I opened my mouth to argue, but he turned his chair around, giving me his broad, rigid back.

"Go," he ordered.

I retreated to my room, my heart hammering against my ribs. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to shake him until he admitted he was scared. But as the house fell silent, a different sound drifted through the thin walls.

A muffled, guttural groan.

I crept to the door and peered through the gap. In the dim light of the hallway, I saw Jacob’s door was cracked open. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands. His broad shoulders were shaking. He gripped his useless legs, his knuckles white, his breath coming in ragged, shallow bursts.

He looked so small. For all his Alpha power and his biting words, he was just a man fighting a war he couldn't win. I stayed there in the dark, my chest aching with a strange, sharp pressure. I hated his coldness, but I couldn't look away from his solitude.

The next morning, the sun hadn't even cleared the pines when a heavy knock rattled the front door.

I opened it to find Neo standing there. He looked polished, his Alpha cloak pinned with a gold sunburst.

"Brenda," he said, stepping inside without an invitation. "We need to talk."

"I’m busy, Neo. Jacob is resting."

Neo glanced around the modest cabin, a sneer curling his lip. "Resting? Or rotting? This place is a dump. You don't belong here."

"I belong wherever my husband is."

Neo laughed, a dry, sharp sound. "Husband? You’re playing house with a ghost. Look, I’ve been thinking. I realize the wedding was... abrupt. Jessica is my mate, and the pack needs her, but I haven't forgotten our years together."

I crossed my arms. "What are you getting at?"

"I want you to come back to the Pack House," Neo said, taking a step toward me. He reached out as if to touch my hair, but I flinched away. "I can make you my primary advisor. You’ll have your old room. You’ll be the person I trust most. Jessica understands. She knows we have a history."

"You want a mistress, Neo? Or just a servant who knows how you like your coffee?"

"I want my best friend back!" Neo’s voice rose. "Jacob can't give you anything. He’s a broken man in a broken house. I’m the Alpha. I can give you protection. I can give you a life."

I looked past him. Several pack members were walking along the trail nearby, their ears perked, watching the exchange.

"You chose Jessica," I said, my voice loud and clear. "You stood at the altar and called me a weak, wolfless reject. You told me to take off my dress so she could wear it."

"I was under pressure, Brenda. The pack—"

"The pack saw exactly who you are," I interrupted. I stepped out onto the porch, making sure the neighbors could hear every word. "I am the wife of Jacob Cross. I am a member of this household now. I won't be your 'advisor' and I won't be your backup plan while you go home to your mate."

Neo’s face turned a bruised shade of purple. "You’re making a mistake. When he’s gone, you’ll have nothing."

"I’d rather have nothing than have a coward like you," I snapped. "Get off our land, Neo. Before I call my husband."

Neo looked like he wanted to shift right there and tear the porch down. He glanced at the whispering pack members, his pride wounded. He turned on his heel and stormed away, his cloak snapping in the wind.

Up on the ridge, I saw a flash of white. Jessica was standing there, her eyes narrowed as she watched Neo retreat. She didn't look like a happy bride. She looked like a predator marking her territory.

I went back inside, my hands shaking with adrenaline. I needed to move. I needed to do something that wasn't thinking about Neo or Jacob’s ticking clock.

I headed into Jacob’s study. It was a mess of old maps and heavy books. I started organizing the shelves, trying to bring some order to the chaos. Near the back of a bottom shelf, I found a small, weathered wooden box.

It wasn't locked. I lifted the lid.

Inside sat a single, faded shell pendant on a frayed string.

My breath caught. I picked it up, the smooth surface cold against my palm. I knew this shell. I had lost it when I was ten years old, the day I fell into the Blackwood River. The current had been vicious, pulling me under until the world went dark.

Beneath the pendant was a photograph. It was yellowed at the corners. A teenage boy sat on the muddy bank of the river, his clothes soaked and clinging to his frame. He was holding a small, unconscious girl in his arms.

The boy wasn't Neo.

It was Jacob.

His face in the photo was filled with a raw, desperate terror as he stared down at the girl—at me.

"He never did throw that away."

I spun around. Silas, the old pack butler who had followed Jacob to this cabin, stood in the doorway with a tray of tea.

"Silas... this photo," I stammered. "Neo told me he was the one. He told me he jumped in and pulled me out."

Silas sighed, setting the tray down on a side table. "Alpha Neo arrived when the shouting started. Master Jacob was already in the water. He fought that current for three hundred yards to reach you. He hit the rocks so hard he nearly broke his ribs, but he wouldn't let go of your hand."

"But everyone said—"

"Master Jacob was in a coma for two weeks after that," Silas said, his voice soft. "Pneumonia and a fever that nearly took him. By the time he woke up, Neo had already claimed the credit. Jacob didn't see the point in arguing. He said as long as you were alive, it didn't matter who got the praise."

I looked back at the photo. The boy in the picture was looking at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

I had spent twelve years loving a lie. I had given my loyalty to a thief while the man who actually saved me sat in the shadows, dying in silence.

A floorboard creaked behind me.

I turned to see Jacob parked in the doorway. He saw the shell in my hand. He saw the photo.

His expression went stone-cold.

"I told you," Jacob whispered, his voice vibrating with a hidden edge. "To stay out of my things."

I didn't back away this time. I stepped toward him, the pendant clutched in my fist. "Why didn't you tell me, Jacob? Why did you let me believe it was him?"

Jacob’s eyes darkened, a flash of that strange gold ring appearing in his irises. "Because it wouldn't have changed anything. You still would have chosen the future Alpha."

"You don't know that," I whispered.

"I know that I'm a man who can't even stand on his own two feet," he spat. "And I know that you're looking at me with that look I hate."

"What look?"

"Hope," he said, his voice breaking.

Before I could answer, a piercing howl echoed from the Pack House, followed by the sound of glass shattering in the distance.

Something was wrong.

And the golden glow in Jacob's eyes was beginning to burn brighter than I had ever seen.