The operating theater lights blinded my good eye as I was forced to stand over Rayne's unconscious form. My hands moved against my will, the Alpha Command still controlling my body. I hated myself for what I was about to do—save the woman who had helped destroy my life.

"Prepare the patient," I rasped, my damaged voice barely audible. The junior healers jumped at my command, not recognizing me but responding to the authority in my tone.

I washed my hands with surgical precision, feeling the familiar rhythm take over. Even with only one good eye, my fingers remembered every step. The legendary healer of the Blood Moon Pack couldn't be completely suppressed.

"Scalpel," I whispered, holding out my hand.

As I made the first incision, I inhaled deeply. Beneath the surgical masks and antiseptic, my enhanced senses detected something wrong—something toxic.

"This isn't a normal pregnancy," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

Gunner's head snapped toward me, his eyes narrowing. "What did you say?"

I ignored him, focusing on the tissue beneath my fingers. The moment I opened the abdominal cavity, the truth became clear. There was no healthy fetus—only a mass of tissue swollen with herbs and magic.

"She's been taking black cohosh and pennyroyal," I said, my voice growing stronger with anger. "Combined with moonflower extract."

The junior healers gasped. Those herbs were forbidden for pregnant wolves—they could mimic pregnancy symptoms but caused severe damage.

"There is no heir," I continued, removing the infected mass. "Only a toxic infection that her body is rejecting."

Gunner's face drained of color. "Fix it," he demanded, but his voice lacked conviction.

I worked methodically, cleaning the infection and repairing the damage. My hands moved with the precision that had earned me my reputation, even as my heart screamed in protest.

"You're saving her life," Samuel whispered beside me. "Why would you do that?"

I couldn't answer. Because despite everything, I was still a healer. Still bound by the oath to preserve life.

---

Hours later, I changed Rayne's bandages in the recovery room. The wolfsbane anesthesia had loosened her tongue, and she mumbled constantly, thinking she was speaking to a nameless, faceless healer.

"You don't know what it's like," she slurred, her eyes unfocused. "Being second best all the time."

I kept my head down, focusing on my task.

"Lucia always had everything," Rayne continued, her voice bitter. "The title, the respect, Gunner's devotion."

My hands trembled slightly as I adjusted her IV.

"It was so easy," she giggled, then winced at the pain. "The rogues did exactly what we paid them to do. Tore her apart like paper."

I froze, the dressing scissors hovering in mid-air.

"She begged," Rayne laughed, the sound like broken glass. "Begged for her little mutt baby's life. As if Gunner would want weak blood in his line."

Something stirred deep within me—a presence I hadn't felt since that night at the border.

"He kicked her," Rayne continued, unaware of the change in the room. "Right in the ribs. Sent her flying down that ravine."

My wolf surged forward with a howl that echoed through my mind. She had awakened from her dormancy, screaming for vengeance.

"Should have seen her face," Rayne giggled. "When she realized her precious mate had ordered her death."

I stepped back, my body shaking with the force of my wolf's rage.

"What's wrong?" Rayne slurred, finally noticing my reaction. "You look... different."

I turned away before she could see the silver glow that I knew had appeared in my eyes—the sign of my wolf's return.

---

Three days later, I managed to slip away from my bed during the night shift. My body was healing faster than anyone expected, my legendary abilities working from within.

The hallway was empty as I made my way to my old office. The door was unlocked—no one thought to secure it since the "Luna" was dead.

Inside, pack members were boxing up my belongings, preparing the space for Rayne. I moved silently between them, a ghost in bandages.

When alone for a moment, I knelt by the loose floorboard beneath my desk. My fingers worked quickly, pulling it up to reveal the small compartment beneath.

My medical journal lay there, bound in leather and filled with my meticulous handwriting. I flipped to the last entry, dated the day before the attack:

"Confirmed pregnancy today. Strong Alpha aura in the fetus. Gunner will be so proud when I tell him on our anniversary."

I traced the words with trembling fingers, then quickly tucked the journal into my bandages, hiding it against my chest.

Evidence. Proof that I had been carrying an Alpha heir—not the weak offspring Gunner had claimed.

As I replaced the floorboard and stood, my wolf stirred within me, no longer dormant but burning with purpose.

The truth was mine now. And soon, everyone would know it.

I noticed the change in Gunner's visits. What had begun as occasional check-ins on Rayne's recovery became daily rituals, sometimes twice a day. He would stand in the doorway of my room, his eyes searching the bandaged figure in the bed with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

"You're healing well," he would say, his voice lacking the warmth it once held when he spoke to me. "The pack needs its Luna back."

I kept my head turned away, my good eye closed. I couldn't bear to look at him—the man who had ordered my death, who had kicked me down a ravine while I bled out, carrying our child.

But today was different. He entered alone, Rayne nowhere in sight. The door clicked shut behind him.

"Who are you?" he asked abruptly.

I remained silent, my throat still too damaged for comfortable speech.

He moved closer, inhaling deeply. "There's something... familiar about you."

My heart hammered against my ribs. Had he recognized me? Was my scent breaking through the medicinal masking?

"I've been having dreams," he continued, pacing the small room. "About Lucia."

I stilled, afraid even to breathe.

"She's gone," he said, his voice hollow. "But sometimes..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "Sometimes I swear I can smell her."

He leaned over my bed, his face inches from mine. "Do you know who I am?"

I nodded slightly.

"Alpha Gunner Burns," he said, as if testing the name. "Luna Rayne's mate."

The lie burned in my throat.

"I was mated once before," he continued, his eyes unfocused. "To the most gifted healer our pack had ever seen."

I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw, the only sign of his inner turmoil.

"Take off your bandages," he suddenly demanded.

I shook my head, reaching for the pad of paper beside my bed.

*Burns still healing. Doctors orders.*

"They're lying," he snapped, grabbing the pad from my hands. "I can sense it."

His wolf was awakening to the truth, even if his human mind refused to acknowledge it.

---

Three days later, chaos erupted in the pack house. Whispers spread like wildfire—the Lycan Council was coming.

"A surprise inspection," Samuel murmured as he changed my IV. "They're saying it's because of Luna Lucia's death."

I gripped his wrist, my fingers digging into his skin.

"What is it?" he asked, startled by my reaction.

I scribbled frantically on my pad: *When?*

"Tomorrow morning," he replied, looking confused by my urgency.

Across the hall, I could hear Rayne's voice rising in panic.

"They can't come here!" she hissed to Gunner. "Not now!"

I edged closer to the door, straining to hear their conversation.

"The Council doesn't make exceptions," Gunner replied coldly. "They'll be here at dawn."

"I'm not ready," Rayne whimpered. "What if they discover—"

"They won't," he cut her off. "Just keep your story straight."

I retreated to my bed, my mind racing. The Council would expose everything—Rayne's false pregnancy, Gunner's crimes. I needed to be ready.

But I didn't expect Rayne's next move.

That night, as the infirmary quieted, I heard her slip into my small quarters adjacent to the patient rooms. I followed silently, watching as she pulled a vial from her pocket and sprinkled its contents into my tea mug.

"Wolfsbane," I whispered to myself, recognizing the distinctive purple residue. "She's framing me."

---

The Council arrived with the dawn, three imposing figures in ceremonial robes. I could feel their power from across the infirmary—ancient, undeniable.

Rayne greeted them with practiced grace, her arm linked through Gunner's. "The Blood Moon Pack welcomes the Lycan Council."

I watched from my bed as she played her part perfectly—the grieving almost-mother, the devoted Luna-to-be.

But her eyes kept darting to me, calculating.

"It has come to our attention," the lead Council member announced, "that there have been... irregularities surrounding Luna Lucia Peterson's death."

Gunner's hand tightened on Rayne's waist.

"We intend to investigate thoroughly," the Council member continued.

Rayne's face drained of color. She tugged at Gunner's sleeve, whispering urgently in his ear.

I saw the moment he made his decision—the slight hardening of his eyes, the set of his jaw.

"There is someone you should meet," he said to the Council, his voice smooth. "Our mysterious healer."

Rayne stepped forward, pointing a trembling finger at me. "She poisoned me!" she screamed. "She killed our baby!"

The Council members turned as one, their ancient eyes fixing on me.

"She's a rogue," Rayne continued, her voice rising hysterically. "She infiltrated our pack to destroy us from within!"

Gunner stepped away from her, addressing the Council with forced calm. "We've been trying to identify her, but she remains... uncooperative."

"I demand justice!" Rayne wailed, tears streaming down her face. "She murdered the Alpha heir!"

Gunner's eyes met mine across the room, cold and calculating. "Guards," he commanded, "seize this rogue healer."