The perfume made my skin crawl.

I stood outside the Alpha's bedroom door, my fingers trembling as they hovered over the polished wood. Inside, I could hear him—low growls that vibrated through the walls, the crash of something heavy hitting the floor. My wolf should have stirred at the sound of an Alpha in distress. Should have whimpered or pressed against my consciousness, urging me to help.

But I had no wolf. Just silence where there should have been another voice.

"Miss Bishop." The pack healer, Dr. Ramos, appeared beside me with a crystal bottle. The liquid inside gleamed amber in the hallway's dim light. "You'll need to reapply. He's worse tonight."

I took the bottle, my stomach turning at the cloying floral scent that escaped when I uncapped it. Jasmine. Rose. Something sweet and artificial that made my eyes water. Bella's signature perfume, recreated by the pack's chemist from old belongings she'd left behind.

Bella Powell. Xander's true mate. Dead for three years.

Except I was the one wearing her scent now.

"How much longer?" I whispered, dabbing the perfume onto my wrists, my throat, behind my ears. The same places Xander would bury his face during these episodes.

"Until dawn, if you're lucky." Dr. Ramos's expression was carefully neutral. He'd never approved of this arrangement, but he wasn't about to challenge an Alpha's decision. "The full moon always hits him hardest."

Another crash from inside. A roar that made the door rattle.

I closed my eyes, thought of Cal in the infirmary three floors down. Cal with his pale face and hollow eyes, hooked up to machines that beeped steadily through the night. Cal, who was dying because I couldn't afford the elite Healers who might actually save him.

This was the price. Three years of my dignity for three years of treatment.

I pushed open the door.

The Alpha's suite was chaos. Shattered glass glittered across the marble floor. Deep claw marks gouged the walls. And in the center of it all stood Xander Blackwood, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing that terrible gold that meant his wolf was too close to the surface.

He was magnificent and terrifying—all raw power barely contained in human skin. His shirt hung in tatters. Muscles coiled tight beneath tanned skin. When his gaze locked onto me, something primal shot through my chest. A pull I didn't understand. A yearning that made no sense.

I was nothing to him. Just a tool.

"Alpha." I kept my voice soft, submissive. Stepped carefully over the broken glass. "I'm here."

He moved so fast I barely saw it. One moment he was across the room, the next he had me pinned to the bed, his weight pressing me into silk sheets that cost more than everything I owned. His face buried in the curve of my neck, inhaling deeply.

"Bella," he breathed against my skin. "Bella, Bella, Bella."

Each repetition was a knife between my ribs.

His body shuddered, the tremors gradually slowing as the perfume did its work. His breathing evened out. The gold faded from his eyes, replaced by their usual cold gray. But he didn't move. Didn't release me.

I lay perfectly still beneath him, blinking back tears that I had no right to shed. This was the contract. This was what I'd agreed to. Let him use me as a living memory of his dead mate. Let him pretend my body was hers.

Somewhere deep in my chest, something ached. Something that felt like longing. Like recognition.

I shoved it down. Buried it deep.

By the time dawn light crept through the curtains, Xander was asleep, his face peaceful in a way it never was when he was awake. I extracted myself carefully, my muscles stiff from staying motionless for hours.

The bathroom mirror showed me what I'd become. Hollow-eyed. Thin. Reeking of flowers that weren't mine.

I scrubbed at my skin until it was raw and red, but the scent lingered. It always did.

When I emerged, Xander was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed fully dressed. His expression was carved from ice.

"Here." He tossed something onto the nightstand without looking at me.

A check. Made out for exactly the amount Dr. Ramos charged for Cal's dialysis.

"Don't mistake what happened last night for anything more than what it was," Xander said, his voice flat. "You're a tool, Norah. A means to an end. My wolf needs Bella's scent to stay stable. You happen to be able to carry it without triggering allergies. That's all."

I picked up the check with shaking fingers. "I understand, Alpha."

"Good." He stood, buttoning his cuffs with precise movements. "The Omega quarters would suit you better, but the council insists you remain nearby during full moon periods. Don't let it go to your head."

He left without another word.

I clutched the check and ran—down the stairs, through hallways where pack members averted their eyes from the Omega who slept in the Alpha's bed. Burst into the infirmary where Cal lay sleeping, his chest rising and falling too slowly.

"I have it," I gasped to the night nurse, thrusting the check at her. "For this month's treatment."

She took it with a pitying look that made my skin burn.

I sank into the chair beside Cal's bed, taking his cold hand in mine. Worth it. This was worth it.

It had to be.

Three days later, the Pack Gathering changed everything.

The great hall blazed with light and music. Wolves from neighboring territories had come to witness what they were calling a miracle—Alpha Xander Blackwood, stable and strong after years of volatile episodes. I stood in the shadows near the kitchen entrance, wearing the simple gray dress required of Omegas during formal events.

Xander stood on the dais, addressing the crowd with the commanding presence that made other Alphas bow their heads. He was talking about pack strength, about unity, about—

The main doors burst open.

Scouts stumbled in, supporting a woman between them. She was thin, ragged, her clothes torn. But even from across the room, I could see her face.

Beautiful. Delicate. Alive.

"Alpha!" the lead scout called out. "We found her in the Rogue camp on the eastern border. She says—"

"Xander," the woman whispered, her voice carrying in the sudden silence.

The glass I'd been holding slipped from my fingers. Shattered on the stone floor.

Because I knew that face. Had seen it in photographs throughout the Alpha's suite. Had heard Xander whisper that name against my skin.

Bella Powell.

Xander's true mate.

Back from the dead.

The Omega quarters smelled like mildew and despair.

I dragged my single bag through the narrow hallway, past rooms where other low-ranked wolves lived in cramped spaces with peeling paint and drafty windows. My new room was at the end—barely large enough for a twin bed and a rickety dresser. Water stains bloomed across the ceiling like bruises.

Three years in the Alpha's suite, and this was where I belonged all along.

I set my bag down and immediately heard the whispers start. Through the thin walls, voices carried.

"Can you believe she actually thought she was special?"

"Sleeping in the Alpha's bed like some kind of Luna."

"Bet she's heartbroken now that the real mate's back."

Laughter. Cruel and sharp.

I pressed my palm against the cold wall and closed my eyes. Let them talk. I'd survived worse.

Two days passed in a blur of kitchen shifts and avoiding eye contact. The pack house buzzed with excitement over Bella's return—the miracle mate, back from the dead. I scrubbed pots until my hands cracked and bled, kept my head down, tried to become invisible.

Then she came to visit.

I was folding my spare uniform when the door opened without a knock. Bella stood in the doorway, backlit by the hallway light, looking like something out of a fairy tale in a cream-colored dress that probably cost more than I'd earn in a year.

"Norah." Her voice was honey-sweet. "I wanted to see where you'd ended up."

I straightened slowly. "Luna."

"Oh, not yet." She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. The room shrank around her presence. "But soon. Very soon."

She circled the tiny space, trailing one perfect finger along the dresser, leaving a line in the dust. When she turned back to me, her smile had teeth.

"You smell like him," she said softly. "Too much like him. It's... concerning."

My throat went dry. "The contract—"

"Is over." She moved closer, and I caught her scent—jasmine and roses, the same perfume I'd worn for three years. But on her, it was natural. Real. "I'm back now. Xander doesn't need a cheap substitute anymore."

Each word was a calculated strike.

"I understand," I whispered.

"Do you?" She tilted her head, studying me like I was something unpleasant she'd found on her shoe. "Because I've noticed the way his wolf still searches for something during training. The way he gets... distracted. And I can't help but wonder if you've been doing more than just wearing perfume."

"I haven't—"

"Stay invisible, Norah." Her voice dropped to a whisper that somehow felt louder than a shout. "Stay in your little room. Do your kitchen work. And if I catch even a hint of you trying to get his attention..." She leaned in close enough that I could see the cold calculation in her eyes. "Well. Accidents happen to Omegas all the time. Especially ones without protection."

She left as silently as she'd come, and I sank onto the bed, my legs suddenly unable to hold me.

The next morning, Dr. Ramos found me in the kitchen.

His face was gray. Drawn.

"Norah, I—" He glanced around at the other kitchen workers, then lowered his voice. "I need to speak with you. About Cal."

The world tilted.

We stepped into the hallway, and he couldn't meet my eyes. "The Alpha has ordered us to discontinue the elite treatments. He says the pack's resources are too strained to support... charity cases."

Charity cases.

Cal. My brother. Dying.

"No." The word came out broken. "No, there has to be—I'll work more shifts. I'll do anything. Please."

"I'm sorry." Dr. Ramos's voice was thick with regret. "The order came from the Alpha himself. There's nothing I can do."

I ran.

Through the pack house, up the stairs to the Alpha's office. I didn't care about protocol. Didn't care about staying invisible. Cal was dying.

I burst through the door without knocking.

Xander sat behind his massive desk, and Bella was draped across his lap like a cat, her arms around his neck. They both turned to stare at me.

"Alpha, please." I fell to my knees, my pride shattering on the hardwood floor. "Please don't stop Cal's treatment. I'll do anything. Double shifts. Triple. I'll—"

"Norah." Xander's voice was ice. "You're interrupting."

"My brother is dying."

"Your brother is not my responsibility." He stroked Bella's hair absently, his attention already drifting back to her. "The contract is fulfilled. You're no longer under my protection, which means your family matters are your own."

"But the treatments—"

"Are expensive and reserved for pack members who contribute value." His gray eyes were empty of anything resembling compassion. "Your brother is weak. Wolfless. The pack can't afford to waste resources on lost causes."

Lost causes.

Bella smiled at me over Xander's shoulder. Triumphant.

"Please," I whispered. "I'm begging you."

"Then beg someone else." Xander turned his chair, dismissing me with his back. "Close the door on your way out."

I stood on shaking legs. Stumbled toward the door. The hallway stretched endlessly before me, the walls pressing in, the air too thin.

Cal. Cal was going to die.

Because of me. Because I wasn't worth protecting anymore.

The floor rushed up to meet me, and the last thing I heard was someone shouting my name from very far away.

The nurse's hands were gentle as she drew my blood, but her eyes held something I couldn't read. Pity, maybe. Or concern.

"Just routine," she murmured, labeling the vial with careful precision. "You fainted yesterday. Dr. Ramos wants to rule out anemia."

I nodded, too numb to speak. The lower-tier clinic smelled like antiseptic and old linoleum—nothing like the pristine infirmary where Cal lay three floors above, his treatments discontinued, his body slowly failing.

The nurse disappeared behind a curtain. I heard the soft beep of machines, the rustle of papers. When she returned, her face had changed.

"Norah." She pulled a chair close, sat down so our eyes were level. "You're pregnant."

The words didn't register at first. Just sounds. Syllables.

Then they hit.

"No." My voice cracked. "That's—that's not possible."

"About six weeks along, from what I can tell." She squeezed my hand. "Does the Alpha know?"

The Alpha. Xander. Who had used my body as a vessel for his grief, who had paid me like a prostitute, who had thrown me away the moment his real mate returned.

A pup. His pup. Growing inside me.

"No one can know," I whispered. "Please. No one."

The nurse's expression shifted to understanding. To fear. Because we both knew what this meant—an Omega carrying an Alpha's child outside a recognized bond. With Bella back, with Xander's protection withdrawn, this pup was a target. A threat to the perfect reunion everyone was celebrating.

"I won't tell," she promised. "But Norah, you need to be careful. Very careful."

I stumbled out of the clinic in a daze, one hand pressed to my still-flat stomach. A life. A tiny spark of life that had somehow taken root in all this darkness.

I had to protect it. Had to figure out a plan.

But first, I had to survive.

Two days later, I was serving dinner at the high table when Bella's head snapped up.

I was carrying a platter of roasted meat, moving as invisibly as possible through the great hall. But when I passed behind her chair, she went completely still. Her nostrils flared.

Then she turned, her eyes locking onto mine with predatory focus.

"You," she said softly. "Come here."

I obeyed, setting the platter down with shaking hands. Xander barely glanced at me, too absorbed in conversation with his Beta.

Bella stood, circling me slowly. Inhaling deeply. Her expression shifted from curiosity to shock to cold, calculated rage.

"Your scent," she murmured, too quiet for anyone else to hear. "It's... changed."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "I don't—"

"Hormones." Her smile was razor-sharp. "You're carrying his pup, aren't you?"

I stepped back, but her hand shot out, gripping my wrist with bruising force.

"Does he know?" she hissed.

"No. Please—"

"Good." She released me, smoothing her dress with deliberate calm. "Keep it that way. In fact, meet me at the training grounds tomorrow morning. Six a.m. sharp. I have an errand that requires... discretion."

It wasn't a request.

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

That night, I couldn't sleep. Every instinct screamed danger. But what choice did I have? If I refused, she'd tell Xander. Or worse—she'd find another way to eliminate the threat I represented.

At dawn, I walked to the training grounds on legs that felt like water.

The field was empty, mist clinging to the grass. Bella stood in the center, already in training clothes, her expression serene.

"Thank you for coming," she said pleasantly. "I need you to retrieve something from the equipment shed. A specific training dummy. The one marked with red tape."

I moved toward the shed, my skin crawling with wrongness.

I never made it.

The shift happened so fast I barely registered it—one moment Bella was human, the next a massive gray wolf was launching at me, jaws wide.

I screamed, throwing up my arms.

Her teeth closed around my throat.

Pain exploded through me, white-hot and all-consuming. I felt my vocal cords tear, felt warm blood pour down my neck. I tried to scream again but only a wet gurgle emerged.

She shook me like a rag doll, then threw me to the ground.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't make sound. My hands clawed at my throat, trying to hold the torn flesh together.

Bella shifted back to human form, standing over me with cold satisfaction. "Rogue intruder," she said calmly, as if rehearsing. "I defended the pack. So tragic."

Then she knelt, and I felt a sharp sting in my side—her claws, injecting something that burned like acid through my veins.

"For the bastard pup," she whispered. "Can't have you birthing an heir, can we?"

She walked away, calling for help, her voice rising in false panic.

I lay in the grass, choking on my own blood, feeling the poison spread through my body like ice.

My hand found my stomach.

I'm sorry, I thought to the tiny life inside me. I'm so sorry.

Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision.

And the last thing I heard was Bella's voice, sweet and concerned, telling the arriving guards how she'd bravely fought off a rogue who'd somehow infiltrated their territory.