The charity gala had ended two hours early, a small mercy I hadn’t expected. I clutched my clutch bag tighter, my knuckles turning white as I ascended the grand staircase of the Pack House. For five years, I had walked these halls as Luna of the Blood Moon Pack, yet the walls felt colder every day. My wolf, usually a source of comfort, paced anxiously in the back of my mind, scratching at my consciousness with a low, mournful whine.

“Nicholas?” I called out softly as I pushed open the double doors to the Alpha suite.

Silence greeted me, heavy and suffocating. The room was dark, save for a sliver of light spilling from under the bathroom door. The sound of running water cut through the quiet, accompanied by a scent that made my stomach churn—thick, heavy musk. It was the smell of an Alpha in the throes of deep arousal.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Hope, foolish and fragile, bloomed in my chest. Perhaps he was finally thinking of me? Maybe tonight, after months of cold shoulders and separate beds, he wanted his mate.

I pushed the bathroom door open. “Nick, I came home ear—”

The words died in my throat, strangled by a gasp that tore from my lips.

Steam billowed around the glass shower enclosure, but it did nothing to hide the man inside. Nicholas stood under the spray, his head thrown back, one hand braced against the tile while the other worked furiously. But it wasn’t my name on his lips. It wasn’t my scent filling the room.

Pressed against his face, sodden and clinging to his wet skin, was a silk scarf. A scarf patterned with blue violets.

Jessica’s scarf.

The scent of vanilla and artificial sweetness hit me like a physical blow. He was inhaling it, groaning into the wet fabric as if it were the only oxygen in the room. He was pleasuring himself to the scent of my own sister.

“Nicholas!” I screamed, the sound raw and broken.

His eyes snapped open. For a second, I expected shame. I expected him to drop the scarf, to cover himself, to apologize.

Instead, his lip curled into a snarl. His eyes weren’t the warm hazel I had fallen in love with; they were glazed over, dark with a lust that wasn’t mine.

“Get out!” he roared, his voice vibrating with Alpha aggression. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

He didn’t stop. He didn’t drop the scarf. He just glared at me with pure hatred for interrupting his fantasy.

I fled. I ran until my lungs burned, collapsing in the guest bedroom that had become my true prison.

***

The next morning, the sun rose as if my world hadn’t shattered. I dragged myself to the dining hall, my eyes puffy and red. I had to be strong. I was the Luna.

But as I entered, I found my place already usurped.

Jessica sat at the head of the table, a spread of blueprints and menus scattered before her. She was laughing, her hand resting casually on Nicholas’s forearm. He was smiling—a genuine smile I hadn’t seen directed at me in years.

“Oh, Olive,” Jessica chirped, not bothering to stand. “You’re finally up. Nick and I were just finalizing the menu for the Harvest Feast tonight.”

I stiffened, walking to the side of the table. “That is the Luna’s duty, Jessica. And I already approved the menu last week.”

“It was boring,” she dismissed with a wave of her manicured hand. “We changed the dessert to the pecan tart. It’s much more elegant.”

“Pecan?” I looked at Nicholas, desperation clawing at my throat. “Nicholas, you know Elder Thomas has a severe nut allergy. If we serve that, he could go into anaphylactic shock.”

Nicholas didn’t even look at me. He kept his gaze locked on Jessica, his expression softening into something sickeningly adoring.

“Jessica has impeccable taste, Olive,” he said coldly. “If she says the tart is better, then we serve the tart. Thomas can simply not eat it.”

The serving Omegas in the corner shifted uncomfortably, keeping their heads bowed. They knew this was wrong. They knew I was being erased in my own home.

Jessica smirked, her fingers drifting up to touch her bare neck, tracing the skin where a mate mark would go. “See, sister? An Alpha needs a partner with vision. Not just… a housekeeper.”

***

The Harvest Feast was supposed to be a celebration of our pack’s prosperity. Instead, it became the stage for my execution.

The banquet hall was bathed in golden candlelight, the air thick with the smell of roasted meats and wine. I wore my ceremonial gown, a deep red velvet that used to be Nicholas’s favorite. I held my head high, ignoring the whispers that trailed in my wake.

But when I reached the head table, I froze.

There were two high-backed chairs at the center, reserved for the Alpha and his Luna.

Jessica was sitting in mine.

She looked radiant in silver, preening as she leaned into Nicholas. He was whispering something in her ear, his hand resting possessively on her thigh beneath the tablecloth. I didn't need to see it; my heightened senses picked up the mingling of their pheromones—his musk and her vanilla—creating a stench of betrayal that made my wolf howl in agony.

“Nicholas,” I said, my voice trembling but loud enough to be heard by the nearby Elders. “That is my seat.”

The chatter at the nearby tables died down.

Nicholas looked up, annoyed. “Don’t make a scene, Olive. There’s a chair for you at the end.”

He pointed to a simple wooden chair at the far edge of the platform, past the Betas and the Gammas. It was a spot reserved for visiting dignitaries of lower rank, or disgraced relatives.

“I am your wife,” I said, my voice cracking. “I am the Luna of this pack. I will not sit in the shadows while my sister warms my seat.”

I took a step forward, my wolf pushing me to fight, to claim what was ours.

Nicholas’s eyes flashed a dangerous, glowing gold. The air in the room grew heavy, the pressure dropping instantly.

**“SIT.”**

The Alpha Command hit me like a physical hammer.

It wasn’t a request. It was a psychic blow that bypassed my will and crushed my wolf into submission. My knees buckled, hitting the hardwood floor with a sickening crack. A whimper tore from my throat as my body betrayed me, forcing me to crawl toward the wooden chair at the end of the table.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and humiliating. The entire pack watched in stunned silence as their Alpha forced his mate to her knees.

Jessica didn’t look away. She watched me crawl, a small, victorious smile playing on her lips, while Nicholas returned his hand to her leg, dismissing me as if I were nothing more than a unruly pet.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed two a.m., the sound echoing like a death knell through the silent Pack House. My wolf was restless, pacing in the back of my mind, keeping me from sleep. I slipped out of the guest room, intending to get a glass of water, when the click of a latch froze me in place.

Down the corridor, the heavy oak door to Nicholas’s private office creaked open. A beam of moonlight cut across the darkness, illuminating a slender figure slipping out.

Jessica.

She jumped when she saw me, her hand flying to her chest. In her other hand, she clutched a silver flash drive tightly against her silk robe.

“Jessica?” I whispered, stepping into the light. “What are you doing in Nicholas’s office? That room is restricted.”

Her eyes darted around, wide and frantic. For a second, the mask of the sweet younger sister slipped, revealing something sharp and ugly beneath. But just as quickly, she smoothed her expression into a pout.

“Shh, Olive! You’ll wake him,” she hissed, shoving the flash drive into her pocket. “It’s… it’s a surprise. For Nick’s birthday next month. I was leaving a digital card on his desk, but I got scared I’d get caught.”

I inhaled deeply. The air around her didn’t smell like anticipation or love. It smelled sour. Metallic. It was the scent of fear and deceit, barely masked by her overwhelming vanilla perfume.

“You’re lying,” I said, my voice hardening. “Show me the drive.”

“You’re just jealous,” she sneered, brushing past me. “Go back to bed, Olive. Nobody wants you wandering the halls like a ghost.”

Before I could stop her, she vanished into her room, locking the door behind her. My wolf growled, sensing a threat I couldn’t yet name.

***

Three days later, the threat realized itself in blood.

A patrol unit—five of our best Delta warriors—was ambushed near the northern ridge. It was a blind spot, a ravine that was supposed to be secure. They were slaughtered before they could even shift.

The Pack House was in chaos. Screams of grieving mates tore through the walls. Nicholas was a storm of rage, pacing the living room while Beta Marcus conducted a security sweep.

“The routes were leaked,” Marcus announced, his face grim. “Someone sold us out to the Rogues.”

He came down the stairs, holding a plastic evidence bag. Inside sat a silver flash drive.

My stomach dropped.

“I found this in the Luna’s jewelry box,” Marcus said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Hidden beneath her pearls.”

Every head in the room turned to me. Jessica stood by the window, weeping into a handkerchief, looking for all the world like a fragile flower.

“That’s not mine!” I cried, stepping forward. “Jessica had that drive! I saw her leaving the office three nights ago!”

“Liar!” Jessica wailed, shrinking into the curtains. “How could you blame me? I don’t even have a wolf! I couldn’t betray our pack!”

Nicholas grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. “Upstairs. Now.”

He dragged me into our bedroom—the room I hadn’t slept in for months—and slammed the door. I wrenched my arm free, rubbing the red marks.

“Nicholas, you have to believe me,” I pleaded, searching his eyes for the mate I once knew. “She planted it. You know she did. Smell the drive! It will have her scent!”

Nicholas didn’t look at the drive. He looked at me, his expression unreadable, cold as ice.

“I know,” he said quietly.

The air left my lungs. “You… you know?”

“I know Jessica was in the office. I smelled her traces there days ago.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking agitated. “But Olive, look at her. She’s a late bloomer. She has no wolf to heal her. If she is convicted of treason, the punishment is the whip, followed by exile. She wouldn’t survive the first ten lashes.”

I stared at him, horror dawning on me. “So?”

“So, you will take the blame.”

The world tilted on its axis. “What?”

“You are a Luna wolf,” Nicholas said, his voice dropping to a desperate growl. “You are strong. You can survive the punishment. Jessica cannot. We have to protect the family, Olive.”

“Protect the family?” I laughed, a broken, hysterical sound. “She got five of your men killed, Nicholas! She is a traitor! And you want me to confess to her crime?”

“I am your Alpha!” he roared, his eyes flashing gold. “And I am telling you that I will not watch Jessica die! You will go down there, and you will tell the Elders you stole the routes. If you do this, I will ensure your life is spared. I will show mercy.”

“No,” I whispered, backing away. “I won’t do it. I will tell them the truth.”

Nicholas’s face hardened. The conflict in his eyes vanished, replaced by a terrifying resolve. “I didn’t want to do this, Olive.”

***

The Council Chamber was cold, lit only by flickering torches. The five Elders sat on a raised dais, their faces stern. The entire pack had gathered in the gallery above, their murmurs sounding like angry bees.

I stood in the center of the stone circle, my hands trembling.

“Olive Bennett,” Elder Catherine intoned, her voice echoing off the stone walls. “You stand accused of high treason. Of stealing pack secrets and selling them to our enemies, resulting in the death of five wolves. How do you plead?”

I looked up at the gallery. I saw Jessica, peeking through her fingers, her eyes gleaming with malice. I looked at Nicholas, who stood to the right of the Elders.

I opened my mouth to scream the truth. *It was Jessica! Check the security logs! Check the scent!*

But before I could speak, a crushing weight slammed into my mind. It felt like an iron collar snapping around my throat, choking off my free will.

**“CONFESS.”**

The Alpha Command.

It tore through our mate bond, weaponizing the very connection that was supposed to be sacred. My wolf whimpered, forced into submission by the overwhelming power of her Alpha. My jaw locked. My tongue felt heavy, like lead.

Tears streamed down my face as I fought it. I tried to shake my head, to mouth the word *no*, but my body was no longer mine. Nicholas was puppeteering me, his will overriding my nervous system.

“I…” The voice that came out was strangled, alien.

*Fight it, Olive!* my wolf screamed.

I couldn’t. The pressure increased, a migraine-inducing spike of pain that threatened to shatter my skull if I disobeyed.

“I… stole the routes,” I forced out, the words tasting like ash. Sobbing, I collapsed to my knees, my resistance breaking. “I gave them… to the Rogues.”

A gasp went through the room.

Elder Catherine stood up, her face twisted in disgust. “By your own admission, you are found guilty.”

She raised her staff, pointing it directly at my heart.

“Olive Bennett, I hereby strip you of the title of Luna. You are a disgrace to the Blood Moon Pack. You are no longer one of us.”

As the gavel came down, I looked at Nicholas through my blur of tears. He didn’t look away. He stood tall, his face impassive, watching his mate burn so his mistress could stay warm.

The Silver Cage wasn't just a prison; it was a tomb designed for the living. The bars were coated in pure silver, singing a song of agony that vibrated against my skin, suppressing my wolf until she was nothing but a faint, whimpering shadow in the back of my mind.

For two weeks, I rotted in the damp darkness. The interrogations were a blur of shouting and accusations, but the silence between them was worse. It gave me time to think. Time to remember the look in Nicholas’s eyes when he commanded me to destroy my own life.

On the fourteenth night, the heavy iron door creaked open. I didn't look up from the dirty straw mattress. I expected the guards with their buckets of cold water. Instead, the clacking of high heels echoed against the stone floor.

“You look terrible, Ollie,” a voice cooed. “Like a rat caught in a trap.”

I lifted my head. Jessica stood on the other side of the silver bars, pristine in a white cashmere coat that cost more than the annual budget for the pack orphanage. She held a small glass vial in her gloved hand, swirling the purple liquid inside.

“What do you want, Jessica?” My voice was a rasp, my throat raw from screaming.

“Just checking on my big sister,” she smiled, a cruel twisting of lips that looked so much like mine. “And to deliver your medicine.”

She uncorked the vial. The acrid scent of wolfsbane hit me instantly, making my stomach heave. Before I could scramble back, she flicked her wrist, splashing the liquid through the bars. It landed on my bare arm, right over a healing cut from the guards.

I screamed.

It felt like acid. Smoke rose from my flesh as the poison ate into the wound, turning the blood black.

“Oops,” Jessica giggled, watching me writhe on the floor. “You were never meant to be Luna, Olive. You’re weak. And now, you’re nothing.”

Inside me, my wolf let out one final, agonized howl before fading into a terrifying silence. The wolfsbane was doing its job. It was severing my connection to her, forcing her into a coma from which she might never wake.

***

The next morning, the guards dragged me out. I couldn't walk; the poison had settled in my joints, making every movement agony. They hauled me into the daylight of the courtyard, throwing me to the gravel at Nicholas’s feet.

He refused to look at me. He stared at the horizon, his jaw set in a hard line. Beta Marcus stood beside him, looking between me and the Alpha with open conflict on his face.

“Alpha,” Marcus said, his voice low. “This… this is too much. She confessed, yes, but to execute a Luna? The pack is uneasy. The omens are bad.”

“She is not Luna,” Nicholas said. His voice was devoid of warmth, stripped of the bond that used to hum between us. “She is a traitor.”

“Then imprisonment,” Marcus argued. “Life in the tower. But exile? In her condition? It’s a death sentence anyway.”

Nicholas finally looked down. For a split second, I saw a flicker of pain in his hazel eyes, a crack in the Alpha mask. He knew I was innocent. He knew he was sending his mate to die to protect the woman who had actually betrayed us.

But the weakness vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“My decision stands,” Nicholas declared, his voice booming across the courtyard so the gathered wolves could hear. “Olive Bennett is stripped of all rank and title. She is hereby exiled from the Blood Moon Pack. If she is found on our lands after sunset, she will be hunted down like any other Rogue.”

He turned his back on me. “Get her out of my sight.”

***

The drive to the border was silent. The guards, men I had once cooked for, men whose children I had held, wouldn't meet my eyes. They stopped the jeep at the edge of the territory, where the dense forest gave way to the jagged cliffs of the Raging River.

“Get out,” the head guard grunted.

I stumbled out of the car, my legs shaking. The rain had started, a cold drizzle that soaked through my tattered dress. I watched the taillights of the jeep fade into the mist, leaving me alone in the grey twilight.

I was a Rogue. Nameless. Packless. Mate-less.

I took a step toward the shelter of the trees, shivering. I needed to find cover before nightfall. But as I reached the tree line, a twig snapped.

I froze. My wolf was dormant, unable to warn me, but my human instincts screamed danger.

Five wolves emerged from the shadows. They weren't patrol wolves. They were mangy, scarred, their eyes yellow with madness. Rogues. But they didn't look surprised to see me. They looked… expectant.

“Well, well,” the largest one sneered, shifting back into human form. He was a hulking man with rotting teeth. “The little Luna. Right on time.”

I backed away, my boots slipping on the wet mud. “I have nothing of value. Take my coat, take whatever you want.”

The man laughed, pulling a jagged knife from his belt. “We don’t want your coat, sweetheart. The pretty blonde one paid us upfront. Said she wanted to make sure you didn't survive the night.”

Jessica.

Adrenaline flooded my system, momentarily dulling the pain of the wolfsbane. I turned and ran.

I sprinted toward the cliffs, my breath tearing at my lungs. Behind me, the sound of paws hitting the earth thundered closer. I could hear their snaps and snarls, the wet sound of jaws anticipating flesh.

I burst through the brush and skidded to a halt.

The world ended here.

Before me was a sheer drop, hundreds of feet down to the churning, white-capped water of the Raging River. Behind me, the Rogues burst from the trees, circling me, cutting off any escape.

I was trapped between a watery grave and a violent death. I looked at the leader, who was licking his lips, and then at the abyss below.

If I was going to die, it would be on my own terms.