The crystal chandeliers cast everything in gold. I stood near the edge of the grand hall, fingers wrapped around the velvet box in my hands. Inside was the Luna moonstone pendant—three months of work, every curve and setting chosen with care. Sacred moonstones don't just appear in jewelry stores. You have to know where to look, who to ask. I'd done all of that for him.

For us.

The Silverfang packhouse was full tonight. Pack elite in designer suits and cocktail dresses, champagne flutes catching the light. Our first mating anniversary. I'd imagined this night so many times—Julien's hand in mine, his voice warm as he thanked the Moon Goddess for bringing us together.

But Julien wasn't beside me.

He stood across the room with Mya, his Beta female. Her laugh carried over the music, high and deliberate. She touched his arm, leaned in close. Too close. And he let her.

I pressed my thumb against the velvet box. The mate bond hummed faintly in my chest, that invisible thread the Moon Goddess tied between us. It should've been strong, vibrant. Instead it felt thin. Stretched.

Someone brushed past me, muttering an apology. I didn't look. My eyes stayed on Julien. On the way he smiled at her, the way his hand settled on the small of her back.

The same way he used to touch me.

"Attention, everyone." Julien's voice cut through the noise. Alpha tone, just enough to make the room go quiet. He raised his glass, and the crowd turned toward him like flowers to the sun.

I straightened. This was it. He'd call me over, present the pendant together, honor the bond we'd fought so hard to build. We'd survived the foster pack together, shared scraps of food when there wasn't enough, huddled together on cold nights when the heating broke. He'd promised me forever.

Julien's eyes swept the room. They passed over me without stopping.

"Tonight, we celebrate not just the past, but the future of the Silverfang Pack." His voice was smooth, confident. The voice of a man who commanded respect. "And I want to honor someone who embodies that future. Someone whose loyalty and dedication have been... invaluable."

My fingers tightened on the box.

"Mya." He turned to her, and she stepped forward with a practiced smile. "You've stood by this pack through every challenge. You've earned more than gratitude."

He pulled something from his pocket. Even from across the room, I recognized it. The moonstone caught the light, throwing pale blue reflections across the walls.

My pendant.

The one I'd designed. The one I'd spent months crafting, pouring every ounce of skill and love into each detail. The sacred Luna artifact meant to symbolize our bond, our anniversary, our future.

He was giving it to her.

Mya's hand flew to her mouth in mock surprise. "Julien, I—"

"You deserve this." He fastened it around her neck, his fingers lingering on her skin.

The room erupted in polite applause. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. I caught fragments—"bold choice," "poor Luna," "didn't see that coming."

Mya turned, making sure everyone could see. The pendant rested perfectly against her collarbone. She met my eyes across the room, and her smile sharpened. Then she did something that made my wolf snarl inside my chest.

She released her scent.

It rolled through the room like a wave—jasmine and something darker, something designed to attract and claim. Pheromones thick enough to make the unmated males shift uncomfortably, thick enough to announce exactly what she was to Julien.

The pitying glances turned to me. Whispers grew louder.

Something inside me snapped.

My wolf surged forward, and I didn't stop her. The velvet box hit the floor. I crossed the room in seconds, faster than anyone expected. Mya's eyes widened, but not fast enough.

I grabbed her face, fingers digging into her jaw. The pendant swung between us, moonstones glinting.

"You want it so badly?" My voice came out low, dangerous. "Keep it."

I shoved the pendant into her mouth. Metal and stone scraped against her teeth. She made a choked sound, hands flying up to push me away, but my grip held firm.

Chaos erupted. Someone screamed. Chairs scraped back.

Then Julien's voice cut through everything.

"OLIVIA. STOP."

The Alpha tone slammed into me like a physical blow. My knees buckled. The command wrapped around my spine, forcing submission, dragging me down. I hit the marble floor hard, the impact jarring through my bones.

Mya stumbled back, coughing, the pendant falling from her lips. Tears streamed down her face—real or fake, I couldn't tell anymore.

Julien was beside her in an instant, hands on her shoulders, voice soft with concern. "Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

I stayed on my knees, breathing hard. The mate bond twisted in my chest, sharp and wrong.

He didn't even look at me.

"Get her out of here," Julien said, still focused on Mya. "Lock her in the east wing until she calms down."

Hands grabbed my arms. Delta warriors, following their Alpha's orders. They hauled me to my feet, and I didn't resist.

I just watched Julien cradle Mya against his chest, watched him wipe her tears, watched him choose her.

Again.

The east wing smelled like dust and old wood. They'd locked me in one of the guest rooms—the kind reserved for visiting pack members who didn't matter enough for the main floors. The door had clicked shut hours ago, and no one had come back.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my hands. They'd stopped shaking an hour after the warriors dragged me away. The mate bond still pulsed in my chest, but it felt different now. Corrupted. Like something rotting from the inside.

Then I felt it. A mind-link, careless and unguarded, brushing against the edges of my consciousness. Julien never bothered to shield properly when he thought I was contained. Why would he? His wolfless mate couldn't possibly—

The link snapped into focus. Not words, exactly. More like impressions, emotions bleeding through. Satisfaction. Anticipation. And underneath it all, arousal so thick it made my stomach turn.

I stood. Moved to the door. The lock was simple—they hadn't expected me to try. Or maybe they just didn't care. Three seconds with a hairpin, and I was in the hallway.

The scent hit me before I'd gone ten steps.

Jasmine and something darker, mixed with Julien's cedar and smoke. It rolled through the corridor like a physical thing, leading me toward his office on the second floor. My wolf stirred, angry and alert. I let her rise just enough to sharpen my senses, to move silent as shadow through the packhouse.

The office door stood slightly open. Light spilled through the crack, and I heard Mya's breathy laugh.

"She actually thought you'd give it to her." Mya's voice, smug and satisfied. "Did you see her face?"

"She needed to understand her place." Julien's tone was casual, like they were discussing the weather. "The pendant looks better on you anyway."

I pulled out my phone. Pressed record. Held it near the crack in the door.

"When are you going to make it official?" Mya asked. "The pack's already talking. They know she's weak. Wolfless. Not fit to be Luna."

"Soon." A pause. The sound of movement, fabric rustling. "I'll call an Elder meeting. Formal rejection, strip her of the title. She can join the Omegas or leave. I don't care which."

My hand tightened on the phone. The mate bond twisted, sharp enough to make me bite my lip to keep from making a sound.

"And then?" Mya's voice dropped lower, intimate. "Then I become Luna?"

"You already are, in every way that matters."

The sounds that followed made my skin crawl. I stayed long enough to capture proof—voices, words, the unmistakable evidence of what they were to each other. Then I backed away, silent, until I reached the stairwell.

The east wing felt different when I returned. Smaller. Like a cage I'd been living in without realizing it.

I sat on the bed and pulled up my contacts. Found the number I'd kept buried under three layers of encryption. Elena answered on the second ring.

"It's time," I said.

Her voice came through clear and sharp. "You're sure?"

"Terminate everything. Border treaties, warrior training contracts, all shadow investments. Pull every dollar SSL has in Silverfang operations."

A pause. "That'll destabilize the entire pack."

"I know."

"Understood, Alpha." The title felt strange, hearing it out loud after so many years of hiding. "I'll have it done within the hour."

I ended the call. Deleted the number. Sat in the dark and waited.

---

Morning came with shouting.

I heard it from the east wing—Julien's voice, sharp with panic, echoing through the packhouse. Footsteps thundered past my door. Someone was running. Multiple someones.

I waited until the noise moved downstairs before I cracked the door open. No guards. They'd all been called away.

The main hall was chaos. Pack members clustered in groups, phones out, voices rising. I caught fragments as I moved through them, invisible in the confusion.

"—stocks dropped forty percent overnight—"

"—investors pulled out, all of them—"

"—border treaty with the Mountain Ridge Pack just dissolved—"

Julien stood in the center of it all, phone pressed to his ear, face pale. Mya hovered at his elbow, the moonstone pendant still around her neck, her expression shifting from concern to barely concealed panic.

"I don't care what the market's doing," Julien snarled into the phone. "Find out who's behind this. Someone's sabotaging us."

He ended the call. Turned to his Beta. "Get me the financial advisors. Now. And find out which packs are pulling their alliances."

The Beta nodded and hurried off. Julien's eyes swept the room, landing on me for half a second before dismissing me entirely. Just his wolfless mate, not worth his attention when his empire was crumbling.

I touched the base of my throat. Felt my wolf stir beneath my skin, patient and deadly.

He had no idea what was coming.

The packhouse felt like it was holding its breath. Three days since the financial collapse started, and the tension had spread through every hallway, every room. I could feel it even from the east wing—wolves whispering, footsteps hurried and anxious, the scent of fear mixing with anger.

I was in my room when Julien found me.

He didn't knock. The door slammed open, and he filled the doorway, shoulders tight, jaw clenched. His eyes had that wild edge I'd seen before, back in the foster pack when the older wolves would corner us. Except now he was the one doing the cornering.

"You," he said, voice low and dangerous. "This is because of you."

I stood slowly from where I'd been sitting by the window. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid." He crossed the room in three strides, and I forced myself not to step back. "Everything was fine until that stunt you pulled at the anniversary. You embarrassed me in front of the entire pack, and now look what's happening. Investors pulling out, alliances dissolving. You brought this on us."

The mate bond twisted, but I kept my face neutral. "You think I caused a financial collapse by defending myself?"

"You attacked Mya. You showed everyone how unstable you are." His hand shot out, gripping my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You're bad luck, Olivia. You always have been. I should've seen it sooner."

My wolf snarled inside my chest, but I kept her down. Not yet.

"Let go of me."

"You don't give me orders." His grip tightened. Then I felt it—a sharp, violent tug on the mind-link connection between us. The bond that let mates communicate, share thoughts and feelings. He was severing it.

Pain exploded through my skull. I gasped, hands flying up to clutch my head as he ripped the connection apart. It felt like something vital being torn away, leaving raw edges that burned.

When I could see again, he was holding my phone. My laptop sat on the bed where he'd tossed it.

"You won't be needing these," he said. "Can't have you spreading more poison, can we?"

"Julien—"

"You'll stay here. No contact with the pack. No devices. You'll eat what's brought to you and keep your mouth shut." He moved toward the door, then paused. "This is for your own good. To protect you from yourself."

The door closed. The lock clicked.

I stood there, breathing hard, one hand pressed to my temple where the severed mind-link still throbbed. The mate bond remained—that couldn't be cut without a formal rejection—but the communication channel was gone. He'd isolated me completely.

Or so he thought.

Two hours later, they came for me again.

Delta warriors, four of them, led by Marcus—one of Julien's most loyal. They didn't speak, just grabbed my arms and hauled me out of the room. I didn't fight. Didn't see the point yet.

They took me up. Higher than I'd ever been in the packhouse, up narrow stairs that creaked under our weight. The air grew colder, thinner. When we reached the attic, I understood why.

Silver.

The door frame was lined with it. The window bars, the bed frame, even thin wires woven through the walls. Not enough to kill, but enough to weaken. To make shifting impossible. To keep a wolf contained.

"Alpha's orders," Marcus said, not meeting my eyes. "For your protection."

They shoved me inside. The door slammed shut, and I heard multiple locks engage.

The silver's effect was immediate. A dull ache spread through my limbs, making my wolf retreat deeper inside. My Lycan blood kept me standing, kept me conscious, but I felt the drain. Subtle. Constant.

I moved to the small window. Looked out over the pack grounds, the forest beyond. From up here, I could see everything. The training grounds where Julien's warriors drilled. The main gates. The road leading away from Silverfang territory.

I pressed my palm against the glass. The silver in the frame made my skin tingle, but I didn't pull away.

Footsteps on the stairs. Multiple sets, moving fast. I turned as voices drifted up—Mya's, sharp and commanding, mixed with the deeper tones of Delta warriors.

They weren't coming to the attic. They were going to my sanctuary.

The room on the second floor where I kept everything. My tools, my designs, the artifacts I'd spent years creating. The ancestral jewelry passed down through my hidden Lycan bloodline, pieces that predated the Silverfang Pack by centuries.

I moved to the attic door, pressed my ear against it. Heard them below, the crash of drawers being opened, boxes overturned.

"Careful with that one," Mya's voice carried up the stairs. "It'll fetch at least fifty thousand on the black market. We need the cash flow."

"What about this necklace?"

"Take it all. She won't be needing any of it anymore."

My hands curled into fists. The silver burned where my skin touched the door, but I didn't move.

They were stealing from me. Selling my heritage, my work, my history to cover Julien's failing pack finances. Using my own creations to prop up the empire that was crumbling because I'd willed it to.

The irony would've been funny if it didn't make me want to tear the door off its hinges.

I stepped back. Looked around the attic. Silver-laced prison, yes. But prisons only worked if the prisoner was actually trapped.

I touched the base of my throat, felt my wolf stir despite the silver's drain. My Lycan blood hummed beneath my skin, patient and deadly.

Let them think they'd won. Let them sell my jewelry, spend my money, celebrate their small victories.

I'd take it all back. Every piece. Every dollar. Every scrap of dignity they thought they'd stolen.

And when I was done, there wouldn't be anything left of the Silverfang Pack but ashes and regret.