The moonlight filtered through the ancient ferns as I knelt beside the fallen wolf, my heart hammering against my ribs. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be seeing this.

"Snowball," I whispered to my fox companion, who circled nervously around me. "What do you think?"

My fox's amber eyes reflected the moonlight as he sniffed the massive silver-gray wolf lying motionless in the undergrowth. The creature's chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths. Blood matted his fur—too much blood.

"He's dying," I murmured, my fingers hovering over the wolf's flank.

I'd come to the clearing to gather moon-blooming herbs for my healing poultices. The last thing I expected was to find a transformed werewolf in my sanctuary. In all my twenty-three years living in these forests, I'd successfully avoided detection by keeping to myself, healing only the animals who found their way to my cabin.

But this wolf... there was something about him that called to me.

"Please," I begged the moon above. "Just one drop."

I knew the risk. My blood wasn't just any blood—it was ancient, powerful, and if discovered, could bring hunters to my door. But I couldn't let him die.

With trembling fingers, I drew my small silver knife across my palm. The cut stung, but the pain was worth it when my blood began to glow with a faint blue light. I mixed it quickly with crushed moon-blooming petals and pressed the poultice to the wolf's chest wound.

"Live," I commanded, my voice stronger than I felt.

The effect was immediate. The wolf's body convulsed once, then his breathing steadied. A low whine escaped his muzzle, and his eyes—silver with flecks of amber—fluttered open briefly before closing again.

"You're welcome," I whispered, wrapping my cloak around his massive form. "Now let's get you somewhere safe."

* * *

Two weeks passed in a blur of care and conversation. The wolf had transformed back into a man three days after I'd found him—a devastatingly handsome man with haunted eyes who called himself Knox Crawford.

"Freya," he said my name like a prayer as I changed the bandages on his chest. "You saved me."

I shrugged, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened when he looked at me. "Anyone would have done the same."

"No." His fingers caught mine, warm and strong despite his weakened state. "No one else could have saved me. Your blood... it's not normal."

I froze. "What do you mean?"

"I felt it." His eyes held mine, intense and searching. "It's ancient, powerful. It healed more than just my wounds."

The air between us charged with something electric as he reached up to touch my face. I should have pulled away, but I couldn't.

"I'm cursed," he confessed later that night as we sat by the fire. "A genetic condition that weakens my wolf form. I've been searching for a cure for years."

Without thinking, I took his hand. "Let me help you."

Under the full moon, I performed the ancient ritual my grandmother had taught me. Knox's body glowed with the same blue light as my blood as I traced symbols across his chest. When it was done, he stared at me with wonder and something deeper.

"You're not just a healer," he whispered. "You're my mate."

Our lips met in the silvery light, and I felt it too—that undeniable pull that transcended logic or reason. For the first time in my life, I wasn't alone.

* * *

The morning Knox was set to leave dawned bright and clear, at odds with the storm in my heart.

"My pack will be looking for me," he said, his fingers intertwined with mine as we stood in the clearing where I'd found him. "I need to reclaim my position."

"Then go," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'll be here when you return."

Knox shook his head, his silver eyes serious. "No, Freya. I want you with me."

Before I could respond, he knelt in the snow, pulling a small wooden token from his pocket. He'd carved it himself—a wolf and a crescent moon intertwined.

"I swear on my blood and my pack's honor," he said, his voice deep and sure, "I will return for you in one day's time. And when I do, I will make you my Luna."

The word hung between us—Luna. Mate. Partner. Equal.

"Your pack will accept me?" I asked, doubt creeping in.

"They'll have no choice." Knox's smile was confident as he pressed the token into my palm. "You're mine, Freya. My savior. My mate."

As he disappeared into the trees, I clutched the token to my chest, unaware that the promise it represented would soon shatter like glass beneath my feet.

The iron gates of the Crawford Estate loomed before me, their intricate wolf designs catching the moonlight. My heart hammered against my ribs as the taxi pulled up to the side entrance—not the grand front doors I'd expected.

"This is where I'm supposed to enter?" I asked the driver, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, avoiding my eyes. "Mr. Crawford's instructions, ma'am."

Snowball stirred anxiously in my bag. I'd smuggled him in, unable to leave my companion behind. His presence was the only thing keeping me grounded as I stepped out onto the cobblestone path.

A stern-faced woman in a black uniform met me at the door. "You must be the healer," she said, her tone suggesting I was something unpleasant stuck to her shoe. "Follow me, quickly now."

I was led through narrow corridors lined with pipes and storage rooms, the sounds of a gala growing louder with each step. Music and laughter drifted through the walls, a stark contrast to my growing dread.

"Wait here," the woman instructed, pushing me into a small antechamber. "Mr. Crawford will address the guests first."

Through a crack in the door, I could see into the grand ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over hundreds of elegantly dressed werewolves. My breath caught as I spotted Knox at the center of it all, resplendent in a tailored black suit that accentuated his broad shoulders.

He looked strong. Healthy. My blood had done its work.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Knox's voice carried effortlessly across the room, "tonight marks a new chapter for the Crawford Pack."

The crowd fell silent. I leaned forward, my fingers digging into the doorframe.

"As you know, I recently survived an... unfortunate incident." His silver eyes swept the room. "But fate has a way of turning tragedy into opportunity."

Beside him, a stunning woman in a crimson gown stepped forward. Her hand slid possessively into Knox's, and my stomach twisted into knots.

"I am honored to announce my engagement to Scarlet Ellis, daughter of Elder Thomas Ellis."

Applause erupted. I swayed on my feet, the room spinning around me.

"And now," Knox continued, his gaze finally finding mine through the crack in the door, "I'd like to introduce our new Pack Healer, Freya Harvey."

The crowd turned as one. Hundreds of eyes found me standing in my simple green dress, a peasant among princes.

"Ah, there she is," Knox said smoothly. "Freya, please join us."

I stepped into the light, feeling like a specimen under glass. Whispers followed me as I crossed the polished floor.

"A healer? She looks half-starved."

"Where did he find her?"

"Poor thing doesn't even know how to hold a fork properly."

Knox's hand closed around mine, his touch both familiar and foreign. "Smile," he murmured through clenched teeth. "You're drawing attention."

* * *

"The marriage is purely political," Knox insisted later that night, pacing the length of the small suite he'd assigned me. "You must understand, Freya. The Council demanded assurances."

"And Scarlet provides those assurances?" I asked, my voice hollow.

"She brings connections, influence." Knox stopped pacing, his silver eyes serious. "But you, Freya—you're the one who saved me. You're the one I want."

He approached slowly, as if I were a wounded animal. "This wing is private, secure. No one will bother you here."

The luxurious room with its silk drapes and four-poster bed suddenly felt like a cage. "And I'm to stay hidden away? Your secret healer?"

"You're my mate," he countered, cupping my face. "But we must be patient. The pack isn't ready for... what we have."

A soft knock interrupted us. A petite woman with downcast eyes entered, carrying fresh linens.

"This is Isla," Knox said dismissively. "She'll attend to your needs."

Isla's eyes flickered to mine briefly before returning to the floor. In that moment of connection, I saw something—recognition? Sympathy?

"Leave us, Isla," Knox ordered.

After she departed, Knox's demeanor shifted. "You'll stay here until I come for you. That's an order."

The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded like a prison cell locking.

* * *

"A baby," Scarlet announced a week later, her hand resting protectively over her still-flat stomach. "Knox's heir."

The pack doctor beamed beside her as Knox stood tall and proud. I watched from the shadows of the grand staircase, my heart turning to stone.

"Freya," Knox called suddenly, his eyes finding mine in the crowd. "Come here."

I descended the stairs mechanically, aware of every eye tracking my movement.

"Scarlet requires special care during her pregnancy," Knox said, his hand pressing firmly against my lower back. "You will attend to her personally."

Scarlet's smile was razor-sharp. "I've heard so much about your... unique abilities."

I placed my hands gently on her abdomen, closing my eyes to focus. The baby's heartbeat was strong, vibrant—too strong for someone claiming weakness.

"She needs rest," I said quietly.

"Oh, I need much more than rest," Scarlet purred, her eyes never leaving Knox's face. "I need special treatments. Only Freya's blood can provide what our baby needs."

Knox's grip on my arm tightened painfully. "Whatever Scarlet needs, you will provide."

As Scarlet's triumphant smile widened, I felt something inside me begin to break.

The needle slid into my vein with a sharp sting. I flinched, but Knox's grip on my arm remained unyielding.

"Be still," he ordered, his silver eyes fixed on the tube connecting my arm to the collection bag.

I watched my blood—my ancient, powerful blood—flow through the clear plastic. The faint blue glow within it was visible only to me, but its effects were evident in the way Knox's expression shifted from desperation to calculation.

"This is the third extraction this week," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Knox, please—"

"The pack doctor says Scarlet needs more." His fingers tightened around my wrist. "Her pregnancy is fragile, Freya. The baby needs your blood to survive."

The sterile medical room felt colder than it had minutes ago. Outside, Seattle's rain battered against the windows of the Crawford Estate's private medical wing. Inside, Dr. Helena Marsh busied herself with equipment, deliberately avoiding my gaze.

"I can feel her getting stronger," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Scarlet doesn't need—"

"Enough!" Knox's voice cracked like a whip. "You don't decide what she needs. I do."

Something in his eyes had changed since we'd returned from the forest. The man who had carved me a wooden token under the moonlight now looked at me like I was nothing more than a resource to be harvested.

"Your blood saved me," he continued, his tone softening slightly as he stroked my hair. "Now you'll save my heir."

Tears burned behind my eyes. "I'm not a blood bag, Knox."

His expression hardened. "For the good of the pack, you are whatever I need you to be."

When the bag was full, he didn't even wait for Dr. Marsh to remove the needle properly before yanking it out himself. Blood welled from the puncture site, but he didn't notice—or didn't care.

"Rest," he commanded, already turning away. "You'll be needed again tomorrow."

* * *

The world tilted sideways as I stepped out of the medical room. My knees buckled, sending me crashing to the marble floor. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was Isla's horrified face appearing around the corner.

I dreamed of forests and moonlight. Of Snowball's soft fur against my cheek. Of Knox's promises whispered against my skin.

When I woke, I was in my bed, with Isla sitting beside me.

"You've been out for hours," she whispered, helping me sit up. "They're saying you're weak from... from giving too much blood."

Something felt different. A strange flutter in my abdomen made me pause.

"Get me my herbs," I said suddenly.

Isla hesitated. "They took most of them. Said you weren't to be trusted with sharp instruments or—"

"Please," I begged. "Just the small pouch under my mattress."

She retrieved it quickly. Inside was a mixture of dried wolfsbane and moonflower—not for healing, but for truth-seeking. I'd never used it on myself before.

I mixed a pinch with water and drank it down. The effect was immediate—a warm rush that spread from my core outward. My hands glowed faintly as I pressed them to my stomach.

"Oh," I breathed as understanding dawned. "Oh, Knox."

Life. A tiny spark of it, barely formed but unmistakably there. Our child.

Hope bloomed in my chest, bright and fierce. This changed everything. When Knox learned of our baby, he would have to choose me over Scarlet. He would have to stop the blood extractions. He would have to remember his promises.

"Knox needs to know," I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed despite Isla's protests. "Where is he?"

"In the main house with Elder Ellis and Miss Scarlet."

I found them in the formal dining room, maps spread across the table as they discussed pack territories. Scarlet's hand rested possessively on Knox's arm.

"Knox," I called, my voice stronger than I felt. "I need to speak with you. Alone."

His eyes narrowed at my interruption. "Not now, Freya."

"It's important," I insisted, one hand instinctively moving to my stomach. "Please."

Something in my expression must have reached him because he excused himself and followed me into the hallway.

"What is it?" he demanded. "Scarlet's father is here to finalize the alliance terms."

"I'm pregnant," I said, the words hanging between us like a spell. "With your child."

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—surprise, perhaps even joy. Then Scarlet's voice called from the dining room, sharp with irritation.

"Knox? Who is that woman bothering you?"

His expression hardened. "You're lying," he said coldly. "You're trying to escape your duty."

"Duty?" I echoed, disbelief washing through me. "Knox, this is our baby—"

"Enough!" He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into the same spot he'd gripped earlier. "Only Scarlet's child matters for this alliance. Nothing else."

The hope that had bloomed so brightly inside me withered and died as he turned away, leaving me standing alone in the hallway with the weight of our child growing inside me—a child he had just rejected.