The night air bit at my skin as Mikael led me away from the bridge, his hand firm but gentle around mine. I couldn't stop shivering—whether from the cold or the shock of what had almost happened, I couldn't tell.

"We need to move quickly," he said, his silver eyes scanning the darkness. "They'll realize you're missing soon."

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the wind.

Mikael paused, studying my face. His expression softened as he brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. "You're dying, Edith."

The words hung between us, stark and undeniable.

"How did you know?" I whispered.

"I can sense it." His fingers moved to my wrist, pressing against my pulse. "Your life force is... fading. And I know what that means for someone without a wolf."

I looked away, ashamed somehow. "Three months. Maybe less."

Something fierce flashed in his eyes. "Then we'll make those months count."

He pulled me closer, his warmth enveloping me. "I'm taking you north, Edith. To the Neutral Territories. There's something there I think you've always wanted to see."

"The Aurora Borealis," I breathed, the words catching in my throat.

He nodded, understanding in his gaze. "The Moon Goddess's smile."

I hesitated only briefly before slipping my communication crystal from my pocket—the small stone that connected me to the pack's mind-link. Without ceremony, I tossed it into the mud beside the path.

"Good riddance," Mikael said with a small smile.

---

We traveled through the night, moving silently through territories I'd never seen before. Mikael seemed to know the land intimately, guiding us through hidden paths and across streams that would mask our scent.

"Rest now," he said as dawn broke over the horizon. "We'll be safe here until nightfall."

I nodded, exhausted beyond words. But as I sank to the ground, pain exploded through my chest—sharp, burning, and unstoppable.

"Edith!" Mikael caught me as I collapsed, his strong arms cradling me against his chest.

I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. My vision blurred as darkness crept in from the edges.

"Stay with me," Mikael commanded, his voice urgent. He pressed his palm to my forehead, and suddenly I felt it—a surge of energy flowing from him into me.

The pain receded, replaced by a strange warmth that spread through my veins.

"How did you...?" I gasped, looking up at him.

His eyes glowed silver in the dim light—not just a reflection of the moon, but an inner light that pulsed with ancient power.

"What are you?" I whispered.

"Not just a rogue," he admitted, helping me sit up. "But I can't explain everything now. Just know that I won't let you die if I can help it."

---

Days blurred together as we continued north. Mikael never left my side, his strength becoming my strength as my own faded. When we finally crested the last hill and saw the valley below, I understood why he'd brought me here.

A small cabin sat nestled among towering pines, smoke curling from its chimney. Snow blanketed the ground around it, pristine and untouched.

"It's beautiful," I breathed.

"It was my mother's," Mikael said quietly. "No one knows about it except me."

The cabin was simple but warm inside—a fireplace, a small kitchen, a bedroom with a window facing north. Mikael showed me around, explaining that this would be our home until...

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

That first evening, as I sat wrapped in furs by the fire, Mikael moved around the kitchen with surprising grace for someone so powerful. The scent of soup filled the cabin, making my stomach growl embarrassingly loud.

"Here," he said, placing a steaming bowl in my hands. "Eat slowly."

I took a spoonful, closing my eyes at the rich flavor. "This is amazing."

"I learned to cook when I was alone," he explained, settling beside me with his own bowl. "Nothing fancy, but it keeps you alive."

Later, as night fell and the first stars appeared through the window, Mikael found an old book on the shelf and began to read aloud. His deep voice filled the cabin, bringing the words to life.

"Why are you doing all this for me?" I finally asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between us.

He looked up from the book, his silver eyes meeting mine. "Because you deserve to be treated like a queen, not a servant."

Something warm unfurled in my chest—something I thought had died long ago.

"I never wanted power," I admitted softly. "I just wanted to be loved."

Mikael set the book aside and moved closer, his expression solemn. "I am Mikael Willis, son of the late Lycan Queen Elena. I was exiled after a coup attempt on my father's throne."

"A prince?" I whispered.

"A title that means nothing now," he said with a sad smile. "But there's something else you should know, Edith."

He took my hand in his, his touch sending warmth through my chilled fingers.

"I've loved you since we were children in that orphanage. Even then, I knew you were special—not cursed, but blessed."

The words hung in the air between us, impossible and wonderful and terrifying all at once.

The mating ceremony preparations had come to a grinding halt.

I wasn't there to witness it, but Mikael's network of rogue allies kept us informed of what was happening back at Silver Moon. According to his sources, Marina's condition had rapidly deteriorated in my absence.

"She's become increasingly unstable," Mikael told me as we sat by the fire in our northern cabin. "Without you nearby, the binding spell is fraying at the edges."

I stared into the flames, trying to process what he was telling me. "What does that mean?"

"It means," he said carefully, "that Marina has been using your suppressed power to fuel her own strength. Now that you're gone, she's experiencing withdrawal."

The thought made me shiver. All those years, I'd been nothing but a battery for Marina's ambition.

---

Back at Silver Moon, chaos reigned.

Marina thrashed in her bed, her golden hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. "It hurts," she whimpered, clutching at her chest. "I need Damien. Now!"

Damien stood at the foot of her bed, his face a mask of concern and frustration. "The healers say your condition has worsened."

"Of course it has!" Marina snapped, then immediately softened her tone. "I'm sorry, my love. The pain makes me... irritable."

She reached for his hand, pressing it against her racing heart. "You need to mark me immediately. Your Alpha aura is the only thing that can stabilize me."

Damien hesitated, something flickering in his eyes. "Are you certain? The ceremony isn't for another week."

"I can't wait that long!" Marina's voice rose hysterically before she caught herself. "Please, Damien. I need you."

He nodded grimly and leaned down, his teeth elongating as he prepared to bite into the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder.

But as his teeth touched her skin, something went terribly wrong.

Damien jerked back as if burned, his eyes wide with shock and pain. "What's happening to me?"

Marina sat up, her expression changing from vulnerability to calculation in an instant. "What do you mean?"

"My wolf," he gasped, clutching his chest. "He's... he's rejecting you."

---

The bridge where I'd nearly ended my life stood empty in the moonlight. Damien paced along its length, his senses heightened by his growing desperation.

Something was wrong. His wolf had never disobeyed him before, but now the creature inside him howled in agony whenever he tried to get close to Marina.

"There has to be an explanation," he muttered, scanning the area.

That's when he spotted it—a small crystal glinting in the mud beside the bridge. Edith's communication crystal.

He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. "She was here."

But something else caught his attention—a scent. Not just Edith's faint trace of pine and starlight, but something else. Something powerful and ancient.

Damien followed the scent trail, moving swiftly through the forest until he reached the charred remains of the orphanage library.

"Who would burn such a place?" he wondered, kneeling to examine the ashes.

His fingers brushed against something metal beneath the floorboards. A hidden box.

Inside were letters—dozens of them—written in a bold, slashing hand. The first one was dated nearly twenty-five years ago.

"My dearest Marina," it began. "The plan is proceeding perfectly..."

Damien's blood ran cold as he read further. The letters were signed by someone named Joshua Martin—the Rogue King.

---

"These letters prove it," Damien said, slamming them down on Alpha Nelson's desk. "Marina has been working with her real father all along."

My parents—no, not my parents anymore—stared at the evidence in disbelief.

"This can't be true," my mother whispered, her hands trembling as she touched the papers.

"Bring the witch," Alpha Nelson commanded, his voice hollow.

The woman who entered looked harmless enough—a small, gray-haired figure with kind eyes. But when Damien's Alpha aura pressed down on her, those eyes darted nervously around the room.

"Tell us the truth," he demanded. "What did you do to Edith?"

The witch—or rather, the rogue witch in disguise—crumpled under the pressure of his command.

"I bound her wolf," she confessed, her voice barely audible. "Joshua paid me to place a suppression spell on the Alpha's true daughter."

"True daughter?" My father's voice cracked.

"Edith is a Lycan," the witch continued, tears streaming down her face. "A powerful one. Marina needed her strength to appear strong herself."

Damien's face had gone deathly pale. "And the Mana Corruption?"

"That's what happens when a Lycan's power is trapped too long," she whispered. "The wolf begins to consume the human host."

The room fell silent as the horrible truth sank in.

"What have we done?" Luna Nelson whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "What have we done to our daughter?"