The Moon Goddess Festival lit up the night sky with silver beams that danced through the trees. Seven years. Seven perfect years with my mate, and tonight I would finally share the secret I'd been nurturing for weeks.

"Close your eyes," Gunner whispered, his breath warm against my ear as he led me away from the pack celebration. His fingers intertwined with mine, strong and reassuring.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my free hand instinctively moving to my stomach. The slight swell wasn't noticeable yet, but my wolf and I had been cherishing the tiny life growing inside me.

"I told you—a surprise." His voice carried that familiar Alpha timbre that had made me fall in love with him all those years ago. "For our anniversary."

The music from the festival faded behind us as Gunner guided me through the forest path. I smiled, imagining a private dinner or perhaps a renewal of our vows under the full moon.

"It's not much further," he said, squeezing my hand. "By the old weeping willow at the border."

I nodded, excitement bubbling inside me. Tonight would be perfect—I'd tell him about our pup, and we'd celebrate both our bond and our future together.

But something changed as we approached the border. The forest grew unnaturally silent. No crickets chirped, no night birds called. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

"Gunner?" I whispered, suddenly uneasy.

His scent shifted—subtle but unmistakable. The warm cedar and sage I loved was now sharp with something else. Adrenaline? Anger?

"Just a little further, Luna," he replied, but something in his tone had cooled.

We reached the clearing by the weeping willow, its branches swaying gently in the moonlight. But instead of finding a romantic setup, I saw movement in the shadows—five massive shapes emerging from the darkness.

Rogues.

My healer's instincts kicked in immediately. "Gunner, we need to—"

But my mate wasn't moving to protect me. He stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression shifting from loving to coldly detached.

"Surprise," came a familiar voice from behind one of the trees.

Rayne stepped into the moonlight, dressed in Luna-style silk that hugged her curves—my style, my position. Her lips curled into a cruel smile.

"How fitting that the great healer can't see what's been happening right under her nose," she mocked, circling me slowly. "Did you really think he could love someone as weak as you?"

The rogues moved closer, their eyes gleaming with hunger in the darkness.

"Gunner?" I turned to him, disbelief freezing the blood in my veins. "What's happening?"

He sneered, his handsome face twisted into something unrecognizable. "You've served your purpose, Lucia. The pack needs a stronger Luna—one who can produce an heir worthy of the Blood Moon legacy."

Rayne laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Oh, she still doesn't understand."

The rogues attacked with coordinated precision. I screamed for Gunner as claws tore through my dress, ripping into my flesh. My wolf howled inside me, desperate to shift and defend us—but I couldn't leave our unborn pup vulnerable.

"Gunner, please!" I cried out as I fell to my knees, instinctively curling around my stomach. "Our baby—"

The words had barely left my lips when I saw the signal pass between Gunner and the lead rogue. Their eyes met in silent understanding.

"No!" I gasped as I realized the terrible truth—they were aiming for my womb.

Pain exploded through me as claws found their target. I collapsed fully to the ground, blood pooling beneath me, warm and sticky against the cold earth.

Somehow, I dragged myself toward Gunner, leaving a crimson trail behind me. My vision blurred as I reached for him.

"The baby," I whispered, blood bubbling from my lips. "Our pup..."

His face twisted in disgust as he looked down at me. "Weak," he spat. "Just like you."

The last thing I saw before darkness edged my vision was his foot drawing back—then the crushing impact against my ribs.

My body flew through the air, tumbling down the rocky ravine beside the border. Each impact against the jagged stones drove more breath from my lungs until I finally came to rest at the bottom, broken and bleeding.

As consciousness slipped away, I felt something inside me snap—the tiny bond to my unborn child severing like a thread cut by cruel scissors.

"No," I whimpered, but there was no one to hear.

My wolf, overwhelmed by grief and trauma, did something I'd never felt before—she retreated deep within me, forcing my body into a death-like state to preserve the last spark of life.

My scent vanished beneath the metallic tang of blood and mud as I lay still in the darkness, neither alive nor dead—just waiting.

The first sensation was cold—bone-deep, river-chilled cold. Then came the pain, a symphony of agony that played through every nerve ending in my body.

"Holy shit, there's someone here!"

The voice pulled me from darkness. I tried to open my eyes, but only my right one responded, the other sealed shut with dried blood and mud.

"Is she breathing?" Another voice, younger and uncertain.

"Barely. I can't get a pulse."

I wanted to scream that I was alive, but my mouth wouldn't work. My vocal cords felt like shredded tissue.

"She's not a rogue, is she?" The first voice again, closer now.

"Hard to tell. Her scent's all messed up—all I smell is blood and mud."

I tried to reach for them, to make some sound, anything to show I was still fighting. My fingers twitched against cold stone.

"There! Did you see that? She moved!"

Rough hands rolled me over, sending fresh waves of agony through my broken body. I bit back a scream that would have torn my damaged throat further.

"Female, early twenties maybe. Look at these wounds—claw marks."

"Could be a rogue attack victim. Or maybe she was trespassing."

"Either way, she's still alive. Barely."

Their voices faded as consciousness slipped away again. The last thing I heard was one of them saying, "We'll take her to the infirmary. If she survives the night, we'll figure out who she is."

* * *

I awoke to sterile white walls and the antiseptic smell of the pack infirmary. My own infirmary. The place where I'd healed countless others.

Now I was the patient.

Bandages covered every inch of my body, turning me into a mummy. Only my right eye and mouth were visible through the wrappings. My left eye throbbed with each heartbeat, swollen shut.

"She's awake," someone whispered nearby.

I tried to speak, to call out for help, but only a raspy breath escaped my lips. My vocal cords were destroyed.

"Don't try to talk," a young healer said, leaning over me. "Your throat is badly damaged. We've given you something for the pain."

I recognized him—Samuel Cross, one of my junior healers. He didn't recognize me.

"The Alpha will be glad to hear you're stable," he continued, checking my IV. "He's been worried about all the recent attacks."

Attacks? What was he talking about?

Before I could process this, the infirmary intercom crackled to life.

"Attention all pack members," Gunner's voice filled the room, that familiar Alpha tone that once made my heart race with love now turning my blood to ice. "It is with deep regret that I must inform you of a tragic loss to our pack."

My body tensed despite the pain. Something was wrong.

"During last night's rogue invasion of our borders, our beloved Luna Lucia Peterson fought bravely to defend our territory."

Invasion? What invasion? The attack had been staged—by him.

"She suffered catastrophic injuries and..." His voice broke perfectly, a performance worthy of an award. "She did not survive."

The monitor beside me beeped as my heart rate spiked. Samuel rushed to adjust something in my IV.

"The pack will observe a week of mourning for our fallen Luna," Gunner continued. "Her bravery will be remembered forever."

Bravery? He'd left me to die. He'd kicked me down a ravine after ordering rogues to tear out my unborn child.

"She died a hero," he finished solemnly.

I wanted to scream, to shatter the glass of the observation window with my rage. But all I could do was lie there, wrapped like a corpse, while my mate declared me dead to the world.

* * *

Weeks passed in a blur of pain and silence. My body slowly healed, but my wolf remained dormant, hiding deep within me where even I couldn't reach her.

I learned to communicate with Samuel through gestures and writing on a pad he provided. He called me "Jane Doe" since we still didn't know who I was.

One day, the infirmary door swung open, and a familiar scent hit me—vanilla and amber, now tinged with something else. Power. Ambition.

Rayne walked in wearing my favorite blue dress, the one Gunner had bought me for our fifth anniversary.

"How's our charity case doing today?" she asked Samuel sweetly.

"She's stable, Luna," he replied, bowing his head respectfully.

Luna. She was already using my title.

Rayne approached my bed, her perfectly manicured nails trailing across the blanket covering my legs. "Such a shame about your face," she murmured, leaning close enough that I could smell the mint on her breath. "The healers say you'll never look the same again."

I stared at her through my one good eye, memorizing every detail of her smug expression.

"I heard you were found near the border," she continued conversationally. "Were you running away from something? Or someone?"

She laughed lightly, unaware that the bandaged monstrosity before her was the woman she'd tried to kill.

"Never mind," she said, standing up. "No one's coming to claim you anyway. You're just another sad story in a world full of them."

As she turned to leave, her eyes met mine for a brief moment. Something flickered there—recognition? Doubt?

But it was gone before I could be sure.

"What's your name, anyway?" she asked casually.

I couldn't answer, but something cold and determined settled in my chest.

Soon, Rayne Fox would learn exactly who she'd been speaking to.

The pack hall buzzed with excitement as I lay in my bed, listening to the commotion through the partially open door. My body had begun to heal, but my wolf remained silent within me, a hollow absence where her presence should be.

"Have you heard the news?" Samuel whispered as he checked my vitals. "The new Luna is pregnant."

I turned my head slightly, my good eye focusing on him. Pregnant? It was impossible. Rayne couldn't be—

"Alpha Gunner announced it during the morning assembly," he continued, adjusting my IV. "They're saying it's a sign from the Moon Goddess herself."

The door swung open wider, and I could see into the hallway where pack members gathered in small groups, their faces alight with joy. Rayne stood in the center of it all, her hand resting protectively over her flat stomach, wearing a flowing dress that emphasized the area.

"The future heir of the Blood Moon Pack grows strong within me," she announced, her voice carrying that practiced sweetness. "A true warrior heir, blessed by the Moon Goddess."

I inhaled deeply, filtering through the various scents in the air. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Samuel," I rasped, my damaged throat allowing only a whisper. "Her scent—"

He leaned closer, confused. "What about it?"

I couldn't explain that beneath Rayne's vanilla and amber scent lurked something else—something sickly sweet and wrong. It wasn't the rich, vibrant aroma of pregnancy. It was the scent of decay.

"She's not pregnant," I managed to whisper. "Or if she is, something's wrong with the fetus."

Samuel's eyes widened, but before he could respond, Elder Catherine Mills approached Rayne with a ceremonial robe.

"The pack will celebrate tonight," she announced. "To honor the future Alpha heir."

Rayne's smile faltered for just a moment as she glanced in my direction. Did she sense my knowledge? Did she know that I knew?

---

Three days later, I heard the commotion before I saw anything. Shouts echoed through the infirmary, followed by running footsteps.

"She collapsed during the council meeting!" someone yelled. "Get the doctors!"

The doors burst open, and Rayne was rushed in on a gurney, her face contorted in pain. Blood stained her dress where she clutched her abdomen.

"Where are the healers?" Gunner roared, following behind her. "Do something!"

I watched from my bed as the junior healers scrambled around her, their faces pale with panic. They were competent enough for basic injuries, but this was beyond their skill level.

"She's hemorrhaging," one of them said, voice trembling. "We can't stop it."

"Try something!" Gunner demanded, his Alpha aura flaring dangerously.

I could see what was happening—Rayne's body was rejecting whatever she'd done to fake her pregnancy. Perhaps she'd used herbs or spells to mimic the symptoms, but nature couldn't be fooled forever.

"The baby," she moaned, clutching Gunner's hand. "Save our baby."

His face contorted with fear and fury. "If you can't save them both, save the heir!"

The healers exchanged terrified glances. They knew as well as I did that they lacked the skill for this kind of crisis.

---

I felt him before I saw him—Gunner's powerful aura filling the infirmary as he stormed through, following an invisible trail.

"What is this scent?" he muttered, inhaling deeply. "It's... powerful."

I knew what he was sensing—my healing aura, the unique signature that had made me legendary among the packs. Even hidden beneath bandages and medications, it couldn't be completely masked.

He burst into my room, his eyes wild with desperation. For a moment, he didn't recognize me—just saw a bandaged figure in the bed.

"You," he said, his voice hard with command. "Healer. Come with me."

I turned my face away, refusing to meet his gaze. Let him think I was just a random healer they'd found. Let him beg.

"Did you hear me?" he demanded, grabbing my wrist. "My Luna needs help."

I remained still, my body trembling with the effort of resisting his presence. Never had I thought I'd be in a position where I would refuse to heal someone—but this wasn't just anyone. This was the woman who had helped orchestrate my murder.

Gunner's eyes narrowed as he sensed my resistance. Then he straightened, drawing himself to his full height.

"As your Alpha," he began, his voice dropping into that resonant frequency that bypassed will and went straight to instinct, "I command you."

The Alpha Tone. The ultimate compulsion that no wolf could resist.

"Save her," he roared, the words vibrating through my bones.

My body moved against my will, disconnecting from my conscious control. My legs swung over the edge of the bed, my hands reaching for medical supplies.

"No," I whispered, fighting against the command with everything I had.

But it was useless. The Alpha Tone was absolute.

As my body began moving toward the operating theater, I caught a glimpse of Gunner's face—and for just a moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes.

Recognition? Doubt?

But it was too late. My traitorous feet were already carrying me toward the woman who had helped destroy everything I loved.