Marcus showed up at my cabin door three days after Jessica's arrival.

I'd been watching the Pack House from my window, tracking Dariel's movements like some pathetic stalker. I'd seen him walking with her through the gardens. Seen them laughing on the terrace. Seen the way he touched the small of her back, guiding her like she was something precious that might break.

He'd never touched me like that.

"Nora." Marcus didn't even try to hide his discomfort. He stood on my rotting porch like he might catch poverty from breathing my air. "The Alpha has issued new territory guidelines."

I wrapped my cardigan tighter around myself, trying to hide the way my hands shook. "Guidelines?"

"Jessica Palmer is an honored guest of the pack." His voice was flat, rehearsed. "To avoid any... incidents, you're forbidden from entering the Pack House or the Alpha's floor until further notice."

The words hit like a slap. "I need to speak to Dariel about something important. It's medical—"

"The Alpha is busy." Marcus wouldn't meet my eyes. "Any concerns can be submitted in writing to my office."

"Marcus, please." My voice cracked. "I just need five minutes—"

"Those are the orders, Nora." He turned to leave, then paused. "Also, your allowance has been... redirected. Pack resources are being allocated elsewhere."

He was gone before I could respond, leaving me standing in the doorway with my hand pressed against my stomach and the world crumbling around me.

No money. No access. No way to tell him about the pup growing inside me.

I was being erased.

Two days later, I walked the three miles to the pack's general store with my last twenty dollars and a desperate plan. I needed prenatal vitamins. The pregnancy books I'd borrowed from the pack library said they were essential, especially in the first trimester.

The store was nearly empty when I arrived, thank the Moon Goddess. I found the vitamin aisle and grabbed the cheapest bottle, my fingers trembling as I read the label. Folic acid. Iron. Everything the baby needed.

Everything I couldn't give it on my own.

At the register, I handed over my pack allowance card—the one Dariel had given me months ago with a careless "buy whatever you need." The cashier swiped it once. Twice. Three times.

"I'm sorry, miss. This card's been declined."

Heat flooded my face. "That's not possible. Can you try again?"

She did. Same result. "Says the account's been closed."

Behind me, someone laughed.

I turned and felt my stomach drop. Jessica stood there in designer jeans and a cashmere sweater that probably cost more than my cabin. And beside her, wearing a cruel smile I knew too well, was Adaline.

My stepsister. Of course she'd come to watch me suffer.

"Oh my God, Nora?" Adaline's voice dripped with fake concern. "What are you doing here? I thought you were living in some fairy tale with your Alpha."

Jessica's eyes swept over me—my worn clothes, my unwashed hair, the vitamin bottle clutched in my hand. "Prenatal vitamins? How... optimistic."

I tried to speak, but my throat had closed.

"Here." Adaline pulled out a black credit card, sliding it across the counter to the cashier. "Ring up that sad little bottle for my sister. And add this." She grabbed a bottle of expensive wine from the display. "We're celebrating Jessica's return."

The cashier processed the transaction while I stood there, humiliation burning through my veins. Adaline handed me the vitamin bottle like it was charity.

"You're welcome," she said sweetly. Then, quieter, so only I could hear: "You really thought he'd choose you? You're nobody, Nora. You've always been nobody."

They left laughing, arm in arm, while I stood frozen with my cheap vitamins and cheaper pride.

I should have known it would get worse.

The storm hit that night with a violence that shook the cabin's walls. Thunder cracked like the sky was splitting open, and I curled into a ball on my bed, hands pressed over my ears.

I'd been terrified of storms since I was six, since the night my mother died in a car accident during weather just like this. Alpha John used to hold me through them, his strong arms the only thing that made me feel safe.

But Alpha John was three hundred miles away, and I'd burned that bridge when I chose Dariel.

The roof gave first—a horrible groaning sound followed by a crash as part of the ceiling caved in. Rain poured through the gap, flooding the floor, soaking everything. Lightning illuminated the cabin in stark flashes, showing me just how close I was to losing even this pathetic shelter.

I was shaking so hard I could barely think. The baby. I had to protect the baby.

I did the one thing I'd sworn I wouldn't do.

I reached for the mind-link, that invisible thread that connected me to Dariel whether he wanted it or not.

*Dariel, please. The cabin's flooding. The roof collapsed. I'm scared. Please, I just need somewhere safe until the storm passes.*

Silence. Long, horrible silence.

Then, finally, his voice in my head—distracted, annoyed.

*I'm busy, Nora. Figure it out.*

The link snapped closed.

I sat there in the dark, in the cold, in the water rising around my ankles, and felt something inside me break that I didn't think could ever be fixed.

The mind-link opened like a wound.

*Dariel, please. The cabin's flooding. The roof collapsed. I'm scared. Please, I just need somewhere safe until the storm passes.*

Silence stretched so long I thought he'd blocked me entirely. Then his voice came through, sharp with irritation.

*Stop being dramatic and seeking attention, Nora. I'm busy. Jessica twisted her ankle and needs me.*

The link slammed shut before I could respond, leaving me alone with the thunder and the rising water.

I pressed myself into the driest corner of the cabin, knees pulled to my chest, one hand curved protectively over my stomach. Jessica twisted her ankle. That was more important than me drowning in a collapsing building. That was more important than the mother of his child.

The storm raged until dawn. I didn't sleep. I just sat there in the cold water, shivering, counting the minutes until morning.

By the time the sun rose, I could barely stand. My legs had gone numb from the cold, and when I finally stumbled outside, I felt something warm and wet between my thighs.

Blood.

Not much. Just a few drops. But enough to send panic clawing up my throat.

I made it to the pack clinic just after eight, slipping through the back entrance like the ghost I'd become. The waiting room was empty except for an elderly wolf reading a magazine. I kept my head down, my hand pressed against my lower abdomen.

"Nora?" Dr. Elena Rivera appeared in the doorway, her dark eyes widening. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to see you. Privately."

She ushered me into an exam room without another word, closing the door firmly behind us. "What's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant." The words came out in a rush. "About six weeks. And I'm spotting. Just a little, but—"

"Lie down." Her voice shifted into professional mode, all business. She helped me onto the exam table, her hands gentle as she pressed against my abdomen. "How long have you been spotting?"

"Since this morning. After the storm."

Her jaw tightened. "You were in that cabin during the storm? The one with the collapsed roof?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Dr. Elena was quiet for a long moment, her hands moving carefully over my stomach. Finally, she stepped back, her expression grave. "The fetus is under extreme stress, Nora. Your body is too cold, too malnourished. You're not producing enough of the hormones needed to sustain a healthy pregnancy."

"What does that mean?"

"It means without proper care, without the father's comforting pheromones and better nutrition, you risk a miscarriage." She met my eyes. "Does Alpha Dariel know?"

I shook my head.

"You need to tell him. Tonight. A pregnant she-wolf needs her mate's presence, his scent, his protection. It's biological. Without it—"

"He won't care." The words tasted like ash. "He's with Jessica."

Dr. Elena's expression softened with something that looked like pity. "Then you need to leave, Nora. Go back to your father. This environment is killing you and your pup."

But I couldn't leave. Where would I go? Back to Alpha John and admit he'd been right all along? Become a rogue with a baby and no pack?

I left the clinic with a bottle of vitamins I couldn't afford and instructions I couldn't follow.

The Head Omega found me that afternoon, her sharp knock rattling my cabin door.

"You're needed at the Pack House tonight," she said without preamble. "We're short-staffed for the gala."

"Gala?"

"To celebrate Miss Palmer's return." Her lips pursed with disapproval. "You'll serve champagne. Wear something presentable."

She left before I could refuse.

I had nothing presentable. Everything I owned was ruined or threadbare. I settled on a black dress I'd worn to a funeral two years ago, the fabric thin and faded but at least clean. My hands shook as I braided my hair, watching my reflection in the cracked mirror.

You can do this. Just a few hours. Then you can come back here and figure out what to do.

The Pack House blazed with light when I arrived through the servants' entrance. Music drifted from the ballroom, along with laughter and the clink of glasses. I joined the other servers in the kitchen, accepting a tray of champagne flutes with hands that wouldn't stop trembling.

"Table one first," the Head Omega instructed. "The Alpha and his guest."

Of course.

I walked into the ballroom on legs that felt like water. The space had been transformed—white flowers everywhere, candles casting golden light across the polished floor. And there, on the raised platform where the Alpha's throne sat, were Dariel and Jessica.

She wore red. Crimson silk that clung to her perfect body, her blonde hair cascading over bare shoulders. Dariel sat beside her in a black suit, his hand resting possessively on the arm of her chair.

They looked like royalty.

I approached with my tray, keeping my eyes down, praying he wouldn't notice me.

"Champagne?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.

Jessica plucked a glass from my tray without looking at me. But Dariel's eyes found mine, and for one horrible second, I thought I saw recognition. Thought I saw something flicker in his expression.

Then Jessica laughed, her hand sliding onto his thigh, and whatever I'd seen vanished.

"Thank you," he said, his voice distant and polite, like I was a stranger.

Like I was nothing.

I backed away, my tray shaking, champagne sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the glasses. Around me, the pack celebrated. Warriors toasted. She-wolves whispered and giggled. Everyone was so happy.

And I stood there in my funeral dress, carrying drinks for the man who'd destroyed me, invisible even when I was right in front of him.

The champagne glass slipped.

Not much. Just a wobble as the dizziness hit me again, that same lightheaded feeling I'd been getting all week. Dr. Elena said it was normal—low blood pressure, dehydration, the baby taking what little I had left.

But normal didn't matter when a single drop of red wine splashed onto the marble floor, inches from Jessica's designer heel.

She shrieked like I'd stabbed her.

"Oh my God!" Her hand flew to her chest, eyes wide with theatrical horror. "You almost ruined my shoes! These are Louboutins!"

The ballroom went quiet. Conversations died mid-sentence. Every eye in the room turned toward us—toward me, standing there with my tray and my trembling hands and my pathetic black dress.

Dariel was on his feet in seconds.

He crossed the distance between us so fast I barely had time to step back. His hand clamped around my upper arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" His voice was low, dangerous. The kind of tone that made weaker wolves drop their eyes and bare their throats. "Can't you do one simple task without screwing it up?"

"I'm sorry, I just—"

"You're embarrassing me." He jerked me forward, and I stumbled, the tray clattering to the floor. More champagne spilled, spreading across the marble in a golden pool. "In front of my entire pack. In front of Jessica."

Behind him, Jessica watched with wide, innocent eyes. Playing the victim. Playing her role perfectly.

"Clean it up," Dariel said. "Now."

I looked around for a towel, for something to—

"On your knees."

The words hit like a physical blow. Around us, I heard whispers. Gasps. Someone laughed—high and cruel.

Adaline.

My stepsister stood near the refreshment table, her lips curved in a smile that made my stomach turn. She was enjoying this. Drinking it in like fine wine.

"Dariel, please—" I kept my voice low, desperate. "Can we talk privately? I need to tell you something important—"

"I don't have time for your drama." He released my arm with a shove that sent me stumbling. "Clean up your mess and get out of my sight."

He turned back to Jessica, his hand finding the small of her back, guiding her away from the 'disaster' I'd created. She leaned into him, her head on his shoulder, and I heard her whisper something that made him laugh.

I dropped to my knees.

The marble was cold and hard beneath me. My hands shook as I gathered the broken glass, as I used the hem of my dress to mop up the spilled champagne. Around me, the party resumed. Music started again. Conversations picked up where they'd left off.

Like I wasn't even there.

Like I was just part of the furniture. Something to be cleaned up and forgotten.

I finished and fled to the kitchen, my face burning, my eyes stinging with tears I refused to let fall. Not here. Not where they could see.

But I wasn't alone.

Jessica and Adaline followed me through the swinging door, their heels clicking in perfect synchronization on the tile floor. I turned to face them, my back against the industrial sink, trapped.

"That was quite a performance," Jessica said, examining her nails. "Though I have to say, you look better on your knees. It suits you."

Adaline laughed, moving to block the other exit. "Did you really think he'd choose you? Look at you, Nora. You're pathetic. You've always been pathetic."

"I need to get back to work—"

"Oh, you won't be working here much longer." Jessica stepped closer, her perfume overwhelming in the small space. That sickly-sweet floral scent that made my wolf whimper and retreat. "Dariel and I have been talking. About making things official. About me becoming Luna."

My hand moved instinctively to my stomach, protective. Hidden.

"And when that happens," Adaline added, her voice dropping to a whisper, "you'll be exiled. Cast out as a rogue. No pack. No home. No Alpha to protect you."

"He won't—"

"He will." Jessica's smile was sharp as broken glass. "Because I'll ask him to. And Dariel gives me everything I want."

They left me there, their laughter echoing down the hallway.

I slid down the cabinet to the floor, my arms wrapped around my knees, around the secret growing inside me. The baby. Dariel's heir. The one thing that might save me or destroy me completely.

I couldn't tell which anymore.

The next morning, I forced myself outside. Dr. Elena had said fresh air was important, that I needed to move, to keep my blood flowing for the baby's sake. So I walked, even though every step felt like dragging weights.

The training grounds were empty this early, just packed dirt and practice dummies and the lingering scent of sweat and aggression. I kept to the edge, not wanting to intrude, not wanting to be seen.

But they found me anyway.

Adaline and Jessica appeared from behind the equipment shed, blocking my path back to the cabin. They moved like predators, circling, cutting off escape routes.

"Going somewhere?" Adaline's voice was honey-sweet and poisonous.

I tried to step around them. "I'm just walking. I'm not bothering anyone—"

"You're bothering me." Jessica crossed her arms, her perfect face twisted with disgust. "Your existence bothers me. The way you look at Dariel like you have any right to him."

"I don't—"

"You're delusional," Adaline cut in, moving closer. "You actually thought he loved you. That he'd make you his Luna. It's embarrassing, Nora. You're embarrassing."

My wolf stirred, weak but present, urging me to run. To protect the pup. But my legs wouldn't move.

"He never wanted you," Jessica said, her voice dropping low and cruel. "You were just convenient. A warm body until I came back. And now that I'm here—"

She stepped forward, and I saw it in her eyes.

She was going to hurt me.

And no one was coming to stop her.