The darkness tasted like copper and regret.

I clawed my way back to consciousness through layers of pain, my throat raw, my chest aching like someone had cracked my ribs open. Every breath felt like swallowing broken glass.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The steady rhythm of a heart monitor pulled me fully awake. Sterile white ceiling. Antiseptic smell. The pack hospital.

I was alive.

My wolf stirred weakly in my mind, whimpering. She felt distant, damaged, like a part of me had been torn away and hastily stitched back together.

"You're awake." A deep, unfamiliar voice spoke from my left.

I turned my head slowly, every muscle protesting. A man sat in the chair beside my bed—tall, broad-shouldered, with silver threading through his dark hair. His eyes were the color of storm clouds, and they held an authority that made my wolf instinctively lower her head.

Lycan. Not just any Lycan—the enforcer who'd saved me.

"High Enforcer Silas," I managed, my voice a broken rasp.

"Just Silas is fine." He leaned forward, his expression grave. "You were poisoned with concentrated Wolfsbane. Military grade. Someone wanted you dead, Beta Lawrence."

The words should have shocked me. They didn't. I'd known the moment that false water touched my tongue.

"How long?" I asked.

"Thirty-six hours. Your heart stopped twice during treatment." His jaw tightened. "If I'd arrived five minutes later, there would have been nothing to save."

I closed my eyes, processing. Twice. I'd died twice while Cameron stood over me, accusing me of faking.

The door burst open with enough force to rattle the medical equipment.

"Finally!" Cameron's voice boomed through the small room. "Do you have any idea what you've cost this pack?"

I opened my eyes. My mate stood in the doorway, his face flushed with anger, his Alpha aura pressing against the room like a physical weight. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of pack warriors stationed outside—whether to protect me or guard me, I couldn't tell.

Silas rose smoothly, placing himself between Cameron and my bed. "Alpha Bradley. The patient is still recovering from a murder attempt."

"Murder attempt?" Cameron's laugh was sharp, dismissive. "Is that what she told you? Enforcer, I appreciate your concern, but Beta Lawrence has always been... dramatic. She had a panic attack. Hysteria brought on by stress."

Hysteria. The word landed like a slap.

"I smelled the Wolfsbane myself," Silas said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I administered the antidote. There is no question of what happened."

"You were mistaken." Cameron moved closer, his Alpha tone creeping into his words. "Perhaps the wine was slightly off, but Nora has always been prone to exaggeration. She's embarrassed the Silver Moon Pack in front of Alpha Blackwood. The treaty negotiations are ruined."

I watched him speak, this man I'd loved, this mate I'd trusted with everything. His eyes never once met mine with concern. Only irritation. Only inconvenience.

"The treaty," I whispered, and something cold and hard crystallized in my chest. "That's what you're worried about."

"Of course that's what I'm worried about!" He finally looked at me, and there was nothing in his gaze but contempt. "You've cost us everything with your theatrics. When you're released, you will personally apologize to Alpha Blackwood. You will grovel if necessary. And then we'll discuss your future as Beta."

My future. As if he held it in his hands.

Silas's hand moved to the weapon at his belt. "Alpha Bradley, I'm going to ask you to leave. Now."

"This is my pack hospital—"

"And this is a Lycan Council investigation." Silas's aura expanded, flooding the room with power that made Cameron stumble back a step. "The banquet hall remains a crime scene under lockdown. You will leave. Now."

For a moment, I thought Cameron might challenge him. But even his arrogance had limits. He shot me one last glare—promising retribution—and stalked out.

The silence he left behind felt heavier than his presence.

"That man," Silas said carefully, "is your fated mate?"

"Yes." The word tasted like ash.

He studied me for a long moment, then pulled out a tablet. "I need your statement about what happened. Everything you remember."

I closed my eyes, and my mind—my cursed, perfect memory—replayed every detail. Yasmin's smile. The switched vial. Cameron's ice-cold eyes.

But something else surfaced too. Something I'd been too busy, too trusting, too blind to see before.

The ledgers. The pack's financial records I'd been auditing for months. The discrepancies I'd noted but dismissed as clerical errors.

"Enforcer Silas," I said slowly, my eyes opening. "I think I know why someone tried to kill me."

His expression sharpened. "Go on."

"The Silver Moon Pack accounts. There's been embezzlement—systematic, careful, hidden in sub-directories under false vendor codes." My photographic memory pulled up exact numbers, dates, patterns. "Account code SM-7743-Omega-Services. Check the transaction logs against pack duty rosters. Specifically, Yasmin Foster's shifts."

Silas's fingers flew across his tablet. His expression darkened with each passing second.

"The amounts align perfectly with her schedule," I continued, my voice growing stronger despite the pain. "Small withdrawals, always under the audit threshold. But over eighteen months? She's stolen nearly fifty thousand dollars."

"Fifty thousand." Silas looked up at me with something like respect. "That's motive for murder."

"That's motive for desperation." I met his eyes. "She didn't just want me dead, Enforcer. She needed me dead. Because I was three days away from presenting my audit report to the Alpha."

Silas stood, his jaw set. "I'm placing Yasmin Foster under immediate arrest. And Beta Lawrence?" He paused at the door. "You just saved your own life. Again."

As the door closed behind him, I lay back against the pillows, my heart monitor beeping steadily.

I'd survived the poison. Survived Cameron's betrayal. And now, finally, I understood the game being played.

My wolf stirred, wounded but not broken.

*Survive,* she whispered again. *And then make them pay.*

The infirmary doors burst open with a violence that made my heart monitor spike.

"This is insane!" Yasmin's voice was shrill, desperate. "I didn't do anything! She's framing me!"

I pushed myself up against the pillows, ignoring the sharp protest in my ribs. Two Lycan Enforcers dragged Yasmin into the room, her wrists bound in silver cuffs that made her skin smoke. She looked smaller somehow, her carefully maintained appearance already crumbling at the edges.

"Beta Lawrence identified the embezzlement pattern," Silas said, his voice cutting through her protests like a blade. He held up a tablet, then a small communication device sealed in an evidence bag. "We found this in your quarters. Encrypted messages to known Rogue mercenaries. You weren't just stealing from the pack—you were selling information."

Yasmin's face went white. Her eyes found mine, and for a moment, I saw pure hatred there. Then she lunged forward, only to be yanked back by the Enforcers.

"She planted it!" Yasmin screamed. "She's always hated me! She's jealous because Cameron chose me over—"

"The digital trail spans eighteen months," Silas interrupted coldly. "Unless Beta Lawrence can time travel, your accusation is impossible."

The door opened again. Cameron strode in, his Alpha aura pressing against the room. But this time, he didn't look at me. His eyes locked on Yasmin with something close to panic.

"This is a misunderstanding," he said quickly. "Yasmin wouldn't—"

"The evidence is irrefutable, Alpha Bradley." Silas's tone held a warning. "The Lycan Council has called an emergency tribunal. It convenes in one hour."

Cameron's jaw clenched. For the first time since I'd woken, uncertainty flickered across his face. Not regret for what he'd done to me. Fear for what this would do to his reputation.

"Take her to holding," Silas ordered.

As the Enforcers dragged Yasmin away, her screams echoed down the corridor. Cameron stood frozen, his hands clenched at his sides.

"This doesn't change anything," he said finally, still not looking at me. "The pack comes first."

He left without another word.

My wolf stirred weakly, whispering something I couldn't quite hear. But I felt it in my bones—this wasn't over.

---

The Pack Hall had been transformed into a tribunal chamber. Rows of chairs faced a raised platform where three Lycan Council representatives sat in judgment. The center seat remained empty—reserved for the Lycan King himself, though he rarely attended pack hearings.

I walked in flanked by two Enforcers, my legs still shaky but my spine straight. Every eye in the room turned to me. Pack members I'd trained, protected, bled beside. Their expressions ranged from shock to pity to carefully blank neutrality.

Cameron stood at the front, his father Vincent beside him. The current Alpha looked older somehow, his face carved with lines of stress. Yasmin sat in a silver-barred cage, her hands trembling.

The lead Council representative—a stern woman with ice-blue eyes—stood. "This tribunal will address the charges of embezzlement, attempted murder, and treason against Yasmin Foster. All evidence will be—"

"A moment." Cameron's voice cut across hers. He turned, finally looking at me. "Beta Lawrence. I know we've had our... disagreements. But for the good of the pack, I'm asking you to speak on Yasmin's behalf. Show mercy. This scandal could destroy everything we've built."

The audacity stole my breath. He wanted me to save the woman who'd tried to murder me. To protect his reputation.

He moved toward me, his hand reaching for my arm. "Nora, please. Think of the pack. Think of—"

His fingers closed around my wrist, squeezing hard enough to bruise.

Something inside me snapped.

I shoved him. Hard. The mate bond flared with agony, but I welcomed the pain. Let it fuel me.

Cameron stumbled back, shock widening his eyes. The Pack Hall went silent.

"You want me to think of the pack?" My voice came out steady, cold. "I've thought of nothing but this pack my entire life. I trained your warriors. I balanced your books. I stood beside you through every challenge. And when I was dying on the floor, you called me hysterical."

The Council representative's gaze sharpened with interest.

Cameron's face flushed. "Nora, don't do this—"

"I, Nora Lawrence, Beta of Silver Moon," I said, my voice ringing through the hall, "reject you, Cameron Bradley, as my mate."

The bond between us screamed. I felt it tearing, ripping through my chest like claws. Cameron's face went white.

"Your bond is poison," I continued, forcing the words through the agony, "and I purge it from my soul."

The magical backlash hit like a shockwave. Cameron dropped to his knees, gasping. I felt the bond sever completely—a clean, brutal cut that left me hollow and free.

I stood tall, trembling but unbroken, while my former mate knelt before me.

The pain was excruciating. But I didn't make a sound.