I clutched the amulet in my palm as I waited for Scott to return from his meeting. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat echoing the doubt that had taken root since my conversation with Rebecca. When the door finally opened, I didn't waste time with pleasantries.

"What is this?" I asked, opening my hand to reveal the silver pendant.

Scott's expression flickered—surprise, then calculation. "Where did you get that?"

"It was delivered to your office. 'Alpha Eyes Only.'" My voice trembled despite my efforts to stay calm. "Rebecca seems to think it's a gift from you."

He took the amulet from my palm, his fingers brushing mine in a way that once would have comforted me. Now it felt like a manipulation.

"Vivian," he said, his voice dropping to that gentle tone he used when he thought I was being unreasonable. "This is a sensitive pack matter."

"Pack matter?" I repeated. "Rebecca says you're planning to sneak her into the Western Territory with me."

His eyes hardened slightly before he mastered his expression. "Rebecca is... unwell. She's been having delusions since we were young."

"Delusions?" I stepped closer, my wolf stirring restlessly. "She seemed very clear about your plans."

"Enough!" Scott's voice suddenly shifted, deepening with the unmistakable resonance of an Alpha command. The weight of his authority pressed against me like a physical force. "You're being paranoid, Vivian."

My knees weakened as his aura expanded, filling the room with his dominance. "I'm just trying to understand—"

"You should trust me," he continued, his Alpha tone vibrating through my bones. "After everything I've sacrificed for you—giving up our home, our pack, our life here—the least you can do is show some gratitude instead of these baseless accusations."

I struggled to breathe against the pressure of his command. My wolf whimpered, instinctively submitting to her Alpha even as confusion tore through us both.

"I—I'm sorry," I whispered, hating how easily he could make me doubt myself.

---

Three days later, Scott appeared in our bedroom with a wrapped package. "Peace offering," he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

I accepted it cautiously, unwrapping the elegant box to find a set of luxurious bath oils. The bottles were beautiful—crystal with silver caps—but as I lifted them, a familiar scent wafted up.

Lavender.

My stomach clenched. My signature scent had always been vanilla and sandalwood—a combination Scott claimed to love. Yet here he was, offering me lavender-scented oils.

"You've always said how much you enjoy lavender," he said, watching me closely.

I forced a smile, though my wolf growled in recognition of the lie. "Thank you. It's... thoughtful."

He kissed my forehead, oblivious to the way I flinched. "Use it tonight. I have some calls to make about the relocation."

As he left, I held the bottle up to the light. The purple liquid caught the sunlight, beautiful and poisonous in its symbolism. Rebecca's scent. He'd bought her favorite fragrance for me.

---

The rain came down in sheets as we gathered for the mandatory pack run. As Luna, I stood beside Scott, both of us already stripped down for the shift.

"Remember," Scott addressed the pack, "we run as one tonight. No exceptions."

I nodded, though my skin prickled with unease. Rebecca stood at the edge of the clearing, wrapped in a hooded cloak despite the summer heat.

"Ready?" Scott squeezed my hand before shifting.

The transformation rippled through the pack—bones cracking, bodies contorting as human forms gave way to wolves. I welcomed the familiar burn of my own shift, my white fur emerging as my human form receded.

We ran as a pack through the forest, rain soaking our fur, mud splattering our paws. The freedom of the run usually brought me joy, but tonight I felt hollow, my paws heavy with doubt.

A cry cut through the pounding rain—human, not wolf.

Scott immediately broke formation, veering sharply toward the sound. The pack followed instinctively, but I held back, watching as he shifted back to human form in one fluid motion.

Rebecca lay crumpled on the ground, her ankle twisted at an awkward angle. Scott knelt beside her, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead as he gently examined her injury.

"I'm fine," she protested weakly. "Just slipped in the mud."

"Nonsense," Scott said tenderly. "You could have broken it."

Without hesitation, he removed his expensive cloak—the one I'd given him for our fifth anniversary—and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then, still naked and vulnerable in the pouring rain, he knelt in the mud to cradle her ankle.

"Let me see," he murmured, his fingers tracing her skin with a gentleness I'd never experienced.

My wolf whined as we watched from the shadows, invisible in our white fur. Scott had never knelt for me, never tended to me with such raw, desperate tenderness.

"Can you stand?" he asked Rebecca.

She tried, wincing dramatically. Without hesitation, Scott swept her into his arms, carrying her toward the pack house as she nestled against his chest.

Not once did he look back for his Luna, still standing in the rain.

The Moon Festival had always been my favorite celebration—a time when the pack came together under the full moon's blessing. Tonight, though, as I adjusted the silver circlet on my head, I felt hollow. The image of Scott kneeling in the mud for Rebecca played on repeat in my mind.

"Are you ready, Luna?" Elena, one of our senior Deltas, asked as she approached.

I straightened my shoulders. "Yes. Let's review the security positions one more time."

The festival grounds glowed with hundreds of lanterns, pack members dancing and laughing. Scott stood at the center, commanding attention as always. Rebecca hovered nearby, her lavender dress flowing around her like smoke.

Then the alarms blared.

"Rogues! East perimeter breached!" Someone shouted.

Chaos erupted. Screams pierced the night as wolves shifted frantically. Parents grabbed their pups, elders scattered toward the safe houses.

"Delta unit, form up!" I called, my voice cutting through the panic. "Protect the civilians!"

My tactical training kicked in as I directed our warriors. "Elena, take your team north. Marcus, secure the west exit. The rest of you, defensive formation around the central grounds."

Scott was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Rebecca.

A massive rogue—at least seven feet tall in human form—smashed through our line. His eyes glowed with feral hunger as he charged toward the group of civilians where I had taken shelter with several pups and their mothers.

"Stay down!" I ordered, preparing to shift.

Then Scott appeared, his Alpha aura radiating power. Relief flooded through me—until I realized his gaze was fixed solely on Rebecca, who cowered behind me.

"Scott!" I cried. "The rogue—"

He didn't hesitate. With a flick of his wrist, he threw a protective barrier around Rebecca and tackled her attacker to the ground.

But I was exposed.

A second rogue emerged from the shadows, claws extended. I tried to dodge, but there was nowhere to go with civilians behind me.

Pain seared across my ribs as his claws tore through my flesh. I heard someone scream—maybe it was me—as I fell backward into the grass.

Blood pooled beneath me, warm and sticky against the cool earth. Through blurring vision, I watched Scott pin Rebecca's attacker, his movements precise and desperate.

"Rebecca!" he shouted. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I'm okay. Just shaken."

Scott pulled her into his arms, checking her for injuries with trembling hands. "Thank the Moon Goddess."

Not once did he turn to look at me.

"Alpha," someone called. "Luna Vivian is down!"

But Scott's back remained turned as he cradled Rebecca's face in his hands. "You could have been killed," he whispered to her.

Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision. My wolf howled in agony—not from the physical wound, but from the realization that our mate had chosen another.

---

I woke to sterile white walls and the faint scent of healing herbs. The Healer's ward. How long had I been here?

"Easy now," Healer Morris said as she checked my bandages. "The wound was deep."

"Why isn't it healing faster?" I asked, my voice raspy.

She hesitated. "Your mate bond... it's weakened significantly. That affects your healing abilities."

I closed my eyes, remembering Scott's choice. "Of course it has."

The door opened, and Beta Connor entered, his expression troubled. "Luna. I'm glad you're awake."

"Where's Scott?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Connor shifted uncomfortably. "He's... handling some matters."

"Is he with her?"

"Luna, please understand. The Alpha was confused in the heat of battle. He thought—"

"That she needed protection more than I did?" My voice broke. "That his Luna could fend for herself?"

Connor looked away. "The bond—you can't feel him anymore, can you?"

I tested the connection that had always pulsed between us. For seven years, I'd felt Scott's emotions—his pride, his anger, even his lies disguised as love.

Now there was nothing but silence.

"My wolf has gone quiet," I whispered. "To protect us both."

---

My phone buzzed on the bedside table. With trembling fingers, I reached for it.

A text from Rebecca: "Hope you're feeling better soon!"

Attached was a photo that shattered whatever remnants of hope I'd been clinging to.

Scott sat slumped in a chair beside Rebecca's bed in the guest quarters. His head rested against her shoulder as he slept, one hand still wrapped around hers. She looked peaceful, unharmed—while I lay in the hospital with claw marks across my ribs.

"He hasn't left my side since the attack," her message continued. "So worried I might have internal injuries. Isn't he sweet?"

I stared at the screen until it went dark, then at my reflection in the black glass. The woman looking back at me was a stranger—pale, wounded, but somehow stronger.

Seven years I had given him. Seven years of devotion, sacrifice, and love.

And I had never been his priority at all.

I ripped the IV from my arm with a decisive yank. The hospital room walls seemed to close in around me as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My ribs screamed in protest, but I ignored the pain. Seven years of ignoring my instincts had been enough.

"Where do you think you're going?" Healer Morris rushed in, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Somewhere I'm valued," I replied, my voice steadier than I expected.

"You can't leave—your wounds aren't healed properly. The mate bond—"

"The mate bond is broken," I cut her off. "Or it will be soon."

I dressed quickly in the clothes Connor had brought me, wincing as fabric brushed against my bandages. No one tried to stop me as I walked out of the Healer's ward, through the pack house, and into the crisp morning air.

No one except my wolf, who whimpered inside me. *We're leaving him?*

*He left us first,* I reminded her.

Back in our bedroom—*my* bedroom now—I pulled out two suitcases. I didn't take much: some personal items, a few photos of my parents, and my Lycan Council uniforms. The crisp navy fabric with silver insignia represented everything I'd worked for, everything Scott had promised to support.

My fingers brushed against the Luna ring on my nightstand—the symbol of my position, my sacrifice, my imprisonment. I set it down carefully and placed a note beside it:

"You saved the one you love. Now I will save myself."

I didn't look back as I drove to the airfield. My tactical clearance got me through security with minimal questions. The pre-dawn flight to the Western Territory had been booked weeks ago for Scott and me. Now I would be the only passenger from Moonstone Pack.

"Destination confirmed," the attendant said, scanning my credentials. "Lycan Council Headquarters, Western Territory."

As the plane lifted off, I blocked the pack link with a single mental command. The silence in my mind was deafening but liberating.

---

The Western Territory airfield was bathed in golden sunlight when we landed. I'd expected to be met with suspicion—a Luna without her Alpha was unprecedented. Instead, a tall figure waited at the bottom of the stairs, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert.

"Strategist Ferguson," he said with a respectful nod. "Alpha Brodie Lawrence of the Golden Coast Pack. Welcome to the Western Territory."

I flinched at his approach, half-expecting an Alpha command or judgment. Instead, he maintained a professional distance, his gaze never dropping below my eyes.

"I wasn't expecting a personal escort," I managed.

"Your appointment is significant," he replied simply. "The Council takes its new strategists seriously."

He led me to a sleek black SUV, opening the door for me with a gesture that was neither subservient nor dominating. "Your quarters are secure and private. I've arranged for a healer to meet us there."

"You know I'm wounded?"

A slight smile touched his lips. "I know you're a warrior who wouldn't leave her post unless absolutely necessary."

The drive to the Council compound passed in comfortable silence. Alpha Brodie—Brodie, as he preferred—didn't press me for explanations or stories. He simply provided the space I needed to gather myself.

---

A week later, I stood at the entrance to the Council's strategy room, my heart hammering against my ribs. The room was filled with Alphas and Betas from across the Western Territory, all turning to stare as I entered.

"Strategist Ferguson," announced the moderator. "Our new Lead Tactical Advisor."

I took my place at the table, acutely aware of the whispers. *Runaway Luna. Rejected mate. Broken wolf.*

When my turn came to present, I stood with hands that trembled only slightly.

"The northern border vulnerabilities can be addressed with a three-pronged approach," I began, my voice gaining strength with each word. "First, we rotate patrol schedules to prevent pattern recognition. Second, we establish decoy positions here and here—"

The room fell silent as I outlined my strategy. No one interrupted. No one dismissed me.

When I finished, Alpha Brodie leaned forward. "This is precisely the kind of innovative thinking we need. Strategist Ferguson has identified weaknesses our enemies have already exploited."

Pride warmed my chest—pride in my work, not pride in pleasing an Alpha.

During the break, I found myself standing alone by the refreshment table, my fingers unconsciously reaching for my mate mark—a habit I needed to break.

"Tea," a voice said beside me. Alpha Brodie placed a steaming cup on the table. "One sugar, no milk. I noticed that's how you take it during meetings."

I stared at the cup, then at him. Such a small detail, yet Scott had never bothered to learn it in seven years.

"Thank you," I whispered, wrapping my fingers around the warm ceramic.

Brodie's eyes met mine briefly before he stepped back. "Your strategy will save lives, Strategist Ferguson. Remember that."

As he walked away, my wolf stirred within me—not with pain or longing, but with something I hadn't felt in years.

Curiosity.