Eliza POV:

My bedroom was a garage.

The maid had dragged me here last night. It smelled of oil, cold metal, and old tires. There was no bed, just a pile of rags in the corner.

"Stay here," the maid had said, wrinkling her nose. "The Alpha doesn't want you inside the main house until you're clean."

I was so hungry. My stomach felt like it was eating itself. I hadn't had real food in days.

Morning light filtered through the dusty windows. I heard movement outside. A man came in with a high-pressure hose.

"Stand up," he barked.

I stood, shivering in my thin, dirty rags.

"Strip," he ordered.

I hesitated. I was eight, but I knew shame. The man didn't wait. He turned on the hose.

The water hit me like a physical blow. It was freezing, icy needles piercing my skin. I gasped, falling to my knees on the concrete.

"Scrub!" he yelled, throwing a stiff-bristled brush at me. "Get that Rogue filth off you!"

I scrubbed. I scrubbed until my skin turned red, then raw, then bled. The water mixed with pink swirls of my blood on the floor. But no matter how hard I scrubbed, the chemical smell of the Wolfsbane-the poison Burt had soaked me in for years to hide my lineage-clung to my pores. It was seeped into my very marrow.

After the man left, I put on a gray servant's dress they had tossed at me. It was too big.

I wandered toward the house, drawn by a smell. Food.

I found the kitchen. It was enormous, filled with stainless steel and the aroma of roasting meat. My mouth watered.

Then I smelled something else. Peanuts.

Panic flared in my chest. My throat felt tight just smelling it. I remembered Burt giving me a peanut butter cracker once, and my throat had closed up until I passed out. He had laughed and said I was defective.

I saw a chef crushing peanuts onto a salad. He was about to serve it.

"No!" I ran forward. "Don't! It's poison!"

I didn't know if anyone else was allergic. I just knew it was bad. I tried to grab the bowl.

"Get away, you little rat!"

The chef, a burly Beta, didn't see a child trying to help. He saw a dirty, smelly beggar trying to steal food.

He shoved me hard.

I flew backward, crashing into a metal prep table. My skin sizzled where it touched the table. Silver. The table had silver inlays.

"Ahhh!" I screamed. Silver burns were agonizing for wolves. It felt like a hot iron branding my skin.

The butler, a tall man named Abernathy, walked in. He looked at me writhing on the floor, then at the chef.

"She tried to steal the Alpha's lunch," the chef lied.

"I didn't!" I wheezed, clutching my burning side. "The nuts... poison..."

Abernathy sneered. "No one in the Moon Shadow Pack has a peanut allergy, girl. Stop lying for attention."

He gestured to the door. "Get out. You are not allowed in the kitchen."

That night, I sat outside on the cold stone patio. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, I could see the dining room.

A crystal chandelier hung above a long mahogany table. My father, Derek, sat at the head. My mother, Nora, sat to his right. And across from them sat Kylie.

They were eating steak. Thick, juicy steaks. Kylie was laughing, telling a story. My mother was smiling at her-a soft, loving smile I had never seen directed at me. My father was cutting Kylie's meat for her.

My wolf whimpered inside me. It was a sound of pure heartbreak. That is our pack, she cried. Why are we outside?

I was starving. The hunger was a sharp pain, twisting my insides.

I saw a maid carry a trash bag out the side door. She dumped it into a large bin.

I waited until she went back inside. Then, I crept over. I was the Alpha's daughter, but I was digging through garbage like a rat.

I found a beef bone. It was cold and covered in coffee grounds, but it had meat on it. I gnawed on it frantically, swallowing chunks of gristle and fat.

My stomach, shrunken from years of starvation, couldn't handle the rich, spoiled fat.

Ten minutes later, I was curled up on the lawn, retching violently. My body convulsed, rejecting the garbage.

The patio door slid open. Light flooded the grass.

"What is that noise?" Nora's voice was shrill. "Derek, make it stop! It sounds like a dying animal!"

The Pack Doctor stepped out, followed by my father. The doctor looked at the vomit and the bone.

"Gluttony," the doctor pronounced, looking at me with disdain. "She gorged herself until she got sick. Typical Rogue behavior. No self-control."

Nora appeared behind Derek. She looked at me, trembling on the grass, covered in vomit.

"She's disgusting," Nora whispered. "She's a monster. I can't sleep with that creature near my house."

Derek stepped onto the grass. His eyes were glowing a menacing amber-his wolf was near the surface.

"Eliza," he said. He used the Alpha Voice. It hit me like a physical weight, pinning me to the vomit-covered ground.

"You are a stain on this family," he growled. "You have one warning. Stay out of sight. If you disturb your Luna's recovery again, you won't just be sleeping in the garage. I'll put you in the cells where you belong."

Eliza POV:

The next day, my father dragged me into his study.

"You need to understand what you are," Derek said coldly. He didn't look at me as a daughter. He looked at me as a liability.

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at the large screen on the wall. It showed the interior of the pack's holding cells. They were dark, damp, and terrifying.

"This is where Rogues go," Derek said, his voice low and dangerous. "This is where traitors rot. You carry the stench of the man who tortured my wife. You are walking on thin ice, girl."

He didn't show me blood or gore, but the threat was clear. He was showing me my future if I stepped out of line.

"Your blood is tainted with the same filth as his," Derek leaned down, his face inches from mine. "You smell like him. If you ever show aggression toward Nora, or toward Kylie... I will treat you like the enemy you smell like."

He threw me out of the office.

I was moved to the basement. It was the Omega quarters, a row of damp cells. I wasn't allowed to eat with the staff. I was given a bowl-a dog bowl-filled with gray mush.

Days turned into weeks. I became a ghost in my own home.

One afternoon, I was scrubbing the floor in the hallway. Kylie walked by. She was wearing a new diamond necklace.

"Oops," she said, dropping a vase. It shattered next to me.

Before I could move, she screamed. "Help! She's attacking me!"

She picked up a shard of the vase and slashed her own arm. Then she threw the shard at me. It struck my forehead, blood trickling into my eye.

"Zeus!" Kylie whistled.

Zeus was the Pack's guard dog, a massive Doberman with latent wolf blood. He was trained to kill on command.

The beast came bounding around the corner. He saw Kylie bleeding and me standing there. He didn't hesitate.

Zeus launched himself at me. His jaws clamped onto my forearm.

"Ahhh!" I screamed as his teeth met bone. He shook his head, tearing my flesh. I fell back, kicking, trying to protect my throat.

"Kill her, Zeus! She's a Rogue!" Kylie laughed, her sweet face twisted into a cruel grin.

Through the haze of pain, I looked up toward the second-floor landing. I saw the curtains twitch.

Nora was there. She had stepped out at the sound of screaming.

"What is happening?" Nora cried out, her hands shaking. "Is that... is that blood?"

Dionne appeared instantly at her side. She grabbed Nora's shoulders and spun her around, blocking her view.

"It's nothing, Nora," Dionne lied smoothly. "Just the gardener disciplining a stray dog. Don't look. It will only upset you."

"But I heard a child..."

"You're hearing things again, darling. Come away." Dionne pulled the heavy velvet curtains shut, sealing me in with the beast.

The bond snapped.

I felt it in my chest. A thread that had been holding me to this world, to her, severed. My inner wolf threw back her head and howled a sound of absolute despair. She gave up.

Zeus lunged for my throat. I closed my eyes, waiting for the dark.

"ENOUGH!"

A roar shook the house. It wasn't just a shout; it was power. Ancient, weathered power.

Zeus whimpered and dropped to his belly, whining in submission.

I opened my eyes. An old man stood there. He had silver hair and leaned on a cane, but his aura was suffocating. It was Hadley McCall, the Elder, my grandfather.

He looked at my mangled arm, then at Kylie, who was suddenly trembling.

"Get the doctor," Hadley ordered the servants who had gathered. "Now!"

The doctor came, but he didn't use anesthesia. He stitched my arm while I lay on the cold floor. I didn't cry. I stared at the ceiling, feeling nothing. The pain was far away. I was already dead inside.

Suddenly, the house alarms blared. Red lights flashed.

"Alpha down!" a warrior shouted, running into the hall. "Alpha Derek has been in a car accident! He's critical!"

Nora ran down the stairs, screaming Derek's name. She ran right past me, stepping over my blood as if it were just a spill on the carpet.

Eliza POV:

The hospital waiting room was chaos.

Pack warriors paced nervously. Doctors ran back and forth. My mother, Nora, was sobbing in a chair, being comforted by Kylie and Dionne.

"He's losing too much blood," a surgeon said, stepping out. His surgical mask was stained red. "We need a transfusion immediately. But the Alpha has a rare blood type. O-negative, but with the Alpha enzyme. We don't have enough in the bank."

"Take mine!" Nora cried.

"You are A-positive, Luna. It won't work," the surgeon said grimly. "We need a universal donor with high potency."

I sat in the corner, holding my bandaged arm. I knew my blood type. In the bunker, Burt had tested me often, muttering about how valuable I was.

"I'm O-negative," I said. My voice was raspy. "I have Moon Blood."

The room went silent. Moon Blood-Rh-null-was the "Golden Blood." It could save anyone.

Kylie scoffed. "You? You probably have sewer water in your veins."

Nora stood up, her eyes red. "Get away from us. Don't you dare suggest putting your filthy Rogue blood into my husband!"

"It will save him," I said simply. I didn't care about Derek. But I knew this was my only value to them.

The surgeon looked desperate. "Luna, if she is a match... we have no choice. He will die within the hour."

Nora covered her face. "Fine. Drain her if you have to. Just save him."

They took me to a room. They didn't ask if I was okay. They hooked me up to two machines at once to draw the blood faster. It made me dizzy and cold.

As the blood left my body, I felt the last connection to my father draining away. I was saving his life, but I knew he would never thank me.

Hours later, the surgery was declared a success. The Pack cheered. Nora hugged the surgeon. Kylie was praised for being "so brave" during the wait.

I was left in the hallway, shivering, drinking a juice box a kind nurse had sneaked me.

Elder Hadley walked past. He stopped when he saw me. He looked at my pale face, then at the bandage on my arm from the dog bite, and the bandage on my other arm from the blood draw.

He narrowed his eyes. "Nurse," he said quietly. "Run a full DNA panel on the girl. And a blood lineage test."

"Yes, Elder," the nurse nodded.

The next morning, Derek was discharged. He was weak but alive. The Pack convoy lined up outside the hospital.

I walked to the car, expecting to get in the trunk again.

"Not you," Dionne said, blocking my path. She held a piece of paper. "I have contacted Social Services. You are being sent to a boarding facility for troubled youth. We cannot have a dangerous, lying child in the Alpha's house while he recovers."

"But..." I looked at the car. Nora was inside, looking out the window. She saw me. She turned her head away.

"Go," Dionne pointed to a black sedan waiting at the curb. "Get out of our lives."

I didn't fight. I walked to the black sedan and got in. As we drove away, I didn't look back.

Hadley POV:

I was in the back of my Bentley, reviewing the hospital reports.

My phone buzzed. It was the head of the genetics lab.

"Elder," the doctor's voice was shaking. "You need to see this."

"Tell me," I commanded.

"The girl... Eliza. Her blood type isn't just O-negative. It contains active White Wolf markers. Extremely high concentration. Royal bloodlines."

I sat up straight. "White Wolf? That's a legend. That's Silver Claw lineage."

"There's more," the doctor continued. "I ran the paternity test you asked for. Derek is her biological father. 99.999% match."

"And the Rogue? Burt?"

"Impossible," the doctor said. "According to the medical records from the raid, the Rogue Burt had mumps as a teenager. He suffered from orchitis. He was sterile, Elder. He couldn't have fathered a child."

The phone nearly slipped from my hand.

My son, the Alpha, had been torturing his own flesh and blood. And not just any child-a White Wolf. A gift from the Moon Goddess herself.

"Turn the car around!" I roared at my driver. " NOW!"

We sped back to the hospital, but the black sedan was gone.

"Where is she?" I demanded, bursting into the discharge area.

"Dionne sent her away," a nurse whispered, terrified. "To an orphanage in Switzerland, I think."

I dialed the airport. I used my highest clearance. "Ground all flights! I need to find a child!"

"I'm sorry, Elder," the controller said. "A private jet just took off three minutes ago. Flight plan filed by... the Silver Claw Pack."

My blood ran cold. The Silver Claw. The most powerful, reclusive pack in the North. Nora's estranged family.

"We tracked Dionne's black sedan," the controller added nervously. "It was intercepted on the highway by Silver Claw special ops. They took the girl. They have her."

They had her. And we had lost her.