The silver light faded from my fingertips as Elder Thomas drew his first full breath in three days. His chest rose and fell steadily now, the death rattle gone from his lungs. Around me, pack members gasped and whispered, their voices blending into a chorus of awe that made my heart swell.

"She did it," someone breathed. "The bone-knitting technique actually worked."

I pulled my hands back, studying them in wonder. That strange silver glow—I'd never seen it manifest so brightly before. It had pulsed through my veins like liquid moonlight, warm and powerful and utterly foreign. For a moment, I'd felt something stir deep inside me, something that felt like recognition.

"Ocean, you're a miracle worker," Elder Thomas's daughter sobbed, clutching my hand. "Thank you. Thank you."

I smiled, though exhaustion tugged at my bones. "I'm just glad I could help."

As I walked through the pack house that evening, heads turned. People actually looked at me—really looked at me—with something other than pity for the wolfless girl Alpha Jaden had taken in. Maybe this was it. Maybe this achievement would finally prove my worth. Maybe Jaden would see that I deserved to stand beside him, wolf or no wolf.

The Pack Gathering was in two days. I spent my meager savings on a simple cream-colored dress, nothing fancy, but it made me feel almost pretty. Almost worthy.

I should have known better.

The gathering hall blazed with torchlight, packed with every member of the Crimson Fang Pack. I stood near the back, my heart hammering with nervous excitement as Jaden took the stage. He looked magnificent in his Alpha formal wear, commanding and powerful. My chest ached with something I told myself was love.

"Tonight, we celebrate an extraordinary achievement," Jaden's voice boomed across the hall. "A revolutionary healing technique that will elevate our pack's status among all territories."

This was it. I smoothed down my dress, preparing to be called forward.

"Rosalie, please join me."

The world tilted.

Rosalie glided to the podium in a stunning red gown, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She moved with the confidence of someone who had every right to be there, while I stood frozen, my smile cracking like thin ice.

"Rosalie has discovered a bone-knitting technique unlike anything our healers have seen," Jaden continued, his hand settling possessively on her waist. "Through her brilliance and dedication, she has given our pack a gift that will save countless lives."

No. No, this wasn't happening.

"Therefore, I award her the Healer's Crest, our highest honor."

The silver medallion—the one I'd dreamed of earning—glinted as Jaden fastened it around Rosalie's neck. She turned to face the crowd, and her eyes found mine across the sea of faces. Her smile was pure venom.

Applause thundered through the hall. People cheered. Someone started chanting Rosalie's name.

I couldn't breathe. My years of research, my late nights studying ancient healing texts, my innovation—all of it credited to her. The girl who could barely set a broken bone without supervision.

I pushed through the crowd, my vision blurring. No one noticed me leave. Why would they? I was nobody. Just the wolfless girl Jaden had saved out of pity.

I didn't remember walking to his office, but suddenly I was there, my fist pounding on the heavy oak door.

"Come in."

Jaden sat behind his desk, pouring himself a drink. He didn't even look up.

"That was my technique," I said, my voice shaking. "My research. My discovery. How could you—"

"Your technique?" He finally met my eyes, and the coldness there stole my breath. "You really think a wolfless nobody like you could hold such an honor?"

The words hit like a physical blow. "I saved Elder Thomas. Everyone saw—"

"Everyone saw a servant doing her job." He stood, moving around the desk with predatory grace. "You're useful, Ocean, I'll give you that. Your healing abilities are... adequate. But you're not pack material. You're not worthy of standing beside an Alpha."

"You said you loved me." The words came out broken. "You said when I proved myself—"

"I said what I needed to say to keep you compliant." He leaned against the desk, studying me like I was an insect. "Here's what's going to happen. You will teach Rosalie every detail of that technique before the Allied Alpha Summit. You will do it with a smile. And you will never speak of this again."

"No." The word surprised us both.

His eyes flashed dangerously. "No?"

"I won't let you steal my work. I won't—"

"You'll do exactly as I say, or I'll brand you an Omega Exile and cast you into rogue territory." His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "How long do you think a wolfless girl would survive out there? A day? An hour?"

The threat hung in the air between us, sharp as a blade. Outside his window, storm clouds gathered, darkening the sky to match the darkness closing around my heart.

"You have until sunrise to decide," Jaden said, returning to his drink. "Choose wisely."

The infirmary smelled like failure and herbs.

I stood at the wooden table, a shallow cut on a volunteer's arm waiting between us. Rosalie circled it like a predator, her fingers hovering over the wound with theatrical concentration.

"Focus on the silver light," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Let it flow from your core, through your hands, into the damaged tissue."

Her hands glowed. Barely. A weak flicker, like a candle about to die.

The cut didn't move. Didn't knit. Didn't even twitch.

"This is ridiculous," Rosalie snapped, jerking her hands back. "You're not explaining it right."

"I'm explaining exactly how it works." I demonstrated again, letting that strange silver warmth pool in my palms. The volunteer's skin pulled together seamlessly, leaving only a faint pink line. "See? You have to connect with the injury on a deeper level. Feel the broken pieces and guide them back together."

"I am feeling it." Her voice rose, sharp with frustration. "You're sabotaging me. Teaching me wrong on purpose because you're jealous."

The accusation hit like a slap. "I'm doing exactly what you asked—"

"You want me to fail." She stepped closer, her eyes glittering with something ugly. "You can't stand that Jaden chose me over you. That I'm wearing the Healer's Crest instead of you."

My chest tightened. The crest—my crest—gleamed at her throat like a brand.

"That's not—"

The infirmary door crashed open.

Two warriors stumbled in, half-carrying a third between them. The injured one's face was gray, his breathing ragged. Blood soaked through the makeshift bandage on his shoulder, and the smell hit me immediately—bitter almonds and rot.

Poison.

"Rogue attack at the eastern border," one warrior gasped. "Poisoned claws."

I moved instantly, reaching for my supplies. "Get him on the table. I need to—"

"I'll handle it." Rosalie shoved past me, her chin lifted. "I'm the Healer's Crest bearer. This is my responsibility."

"Rosalie, you don't understand the poison—"

"I understand perfectly." She grabbed a jar from the shelf, not even reading the label. "Silverleaf extract neutralizes toxins. Everyone knows that."

"Not this toxin." I tried to step forward, but she blocked me with her body. "That's nightshade poison. Silverleaf will accelerate it. You need moonpetal root mixed with—"

"Stop trying to undermine me." She uncorked the jar, her hands shaking slightly. "I know what I'm doing."

She didn't.

The moment the silverleaf touched the warrior's wound, his back arched. A scream tore from his throat, raw and animal. His veins turned black, spreading from the injury like cracks in glass.

"What did you do?" The other warriors backed away, horror written across their faces.

Rosalie's face went white. For one second, I saw panic flash in her eyes.

Then she spun toward me.

"She tampered with the supplies!" Her voice cracked with false hysteria. "Ocean switched the labels! She's trying to kill him because she's jealous of me!"

"What? No—"

"I saw her in here last night, messing with the jars!" Tears streamed down Rosalie's face, perfect and calculated. "She's been sabotaging me from the beginning!"

The warriors looked at me. At the screaming man on the table. At Rosalie's tears.

They believed her.

"That's insane," I said, but my voice sounded weak even to my own ears. "I would never—"

Footsteps. Heavy. Commanding.

Jaden filled the doorway, his presence sucking the air from the room. His eyes swept the scene—the dying warrior, Rosalie's tears, my empty hands.

"Alpha, thank the Goddess." Rosalie ran to him, burying her face in his chest. "She tried to kill him. Ocean poisoned the supplies because she can't accept that I'm better than her."

"That's not true." I stepped forward, desperate. "She used the wrong herb. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen. I can fix this if you just let me—"

Jaden's eyes locked on mine.

Cold. Merciless.

"Kneel."

The word hit me like a physical force. Not a request. Not even a command.

An Alpha Tone.

My knees buckled. I fought it, every muscle screaming in protest, but the weight of his authority crushed down on me like a mountain. My body betrayed me, folding to the floor against my will.

Shame burned through my chest.

"You dare endanger my pack?" Jaden's voice was ice. "You dare harm my warriors out of petty jealousy?"

"I didn't—" The words choked off as his hand closed around the back of my neck, forcing my face toward the ground.

"Fix him." He shoved me toward the table, his grip bruising. "Now."

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The infirmary spun around me, faces blurring together—warriors, healers, Rosalie's satisfied smirk.

The dying man's screams filled my ears.

Jaden's hand stayed locked on my neck as I reached for the moonpetal root with shaking fingers. The silver light in my palms flickered weakly, struggling against the humiliation crushing my chest.

But I worked.

Because that's what I did.

I saved people, even when they thought I was trying to kill them.

The infirmary was silent except for the soft clink of glass vials as I returned them to their shelves. My hands moved mechanically, sorting herbs I could identify in my sleep. Moonpetal root. Silverleaf extract. Wolfsbane powder.

My neck still ached where Jaden's fingers had dug in.

The warrior had survived. Barely. I'd knelt on that floor for two hours, pouring every ounce of strength into pulling the poison from his veins while Jaden's hand stayed locked on my neck like a collar. A reminder of what I was.

Nothing.

"Child."

I spun around. Elena stood in the doorway, her weathered face half-hidden in shadow. The elderly healer moved like a ghost, silent and careful.

"You should be resting," I said, turning back to my work. "It's late."

"So should you." She crossed the room, her joints creaking. "But here we are."

I didn't answer. What was there to say?

Her gnarled hand closed over mine, stopping my movements. "That light in your palms. When you healed Marcus today."

"What about it?"

"It's not normal, Ocean." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I've been a healer for sixty years. I've never seen silver light like that. Not in any common wolf."

Something cold slithered down my spine. "I don't understand."

"The Royal Family." Elena's eyes searched mine, urgent and afraid. "The old legends speak of healing light that glows like moonbeams. A gift passed through the Lycan bloodline."

I pulled my hand away. "That's ridiculous. I'm nobody. I don't even have a wolf."

"Don't you?" She stepped closer. "Or has someone made very sure you believe that?"

The words hung between us, dangerous and impossible.

"Why would Jaden keep you so close, yet so suppressed?" Elena continued. "Why does he watch you like a hawk? Why does he give you that 'medicine' every single day?"

My throat tightened. The bitter tea Jaden insisted I drink each morning. For my health, he'd said. To keep me strong.

"You need to find out the truth," Elena whispered. "Before it's too late."

She left as silently as she'd come, leaving me alone with questions that felt like knives.

I shouldn't have gone to his quarters. I knew that even as my feet carried me through the darkened pack house, past sleeping guards and empty hallways. I just needed to talk to him. To explain that I wasn't trying to sabotage anyone. That I was loyal. That I was worthy.

The lies we tell ourselves are always the cruelest.

Light spilled from beneath Jaden's door. Voices drifted through the wood—his, and Rosalie's.

I raised my hand to knock.

"She's so pathetic," Rosalie's laugh was sharp and bright. "Did you see her face when you made her kneel? I thought she might actually cry."

"She's useful." Jaden's voice, casual and cold. "For now."

My hand froze.

"Once she teaches me the final incantation, we're done with her, right?" Rosalie asked. "You promised."

"Of course." Ice clinked in a glass. "We'll sell her to the rogue ring. They're always looking for healers, and they pay well. The suppressants are costing a fortune anyway."

The world stopped.

Suppressants.

Not medicine. Not vitamins. Not something to keep me healthy.

Poison.

Five years of poison, fed to me every morning by the man I thought saved my life.

"What if she refuses to teach me?" Rosalie's voice turned petulant.

"She won't. She's too broken to refuse anything." Jaden laughed, and the sound carved something vital out of my chest. "That's what five years of suppressants and manipulation will do. She actually thinks I care about her. It's almost sad."

I backed away from the door. One step. Two. My shoulder hit the wall and I barely felt it.

Saved me.

He saved me.

Except he didn't.

Elena's words echoed in my skull. Why would he keep you so close, yet so suppressed?

Because I was never his salvation project.

I was his prisoner.

The next morning, Jaden summoned me to his office. I went because my body still remembered how to obey, even when my mind was screaming.

He sat behind his desk, relaxed and confident. "Your journals. The ones with your healing research. I need them."

I looked at him—really looked at him—and wondered how I'd ever thought those eyes held warmth.

"No."

The word felt foreign on my tongue. Powerful.

Jaden's expression didn't change. "Excuse me?"

"I won't give you my journals." My voice was steady, stronger than I'd ever heard it. "And I won't teach Rosalie another thing."

Something flickered across his face. Surprise, maybe. Then rage.

He moved faster than I could track. His hand cracked across my face, snapping my head to the side. Pain exploded through my cheek, bright and sharp.

I tasted blood.

But I didn't fall.

I turned back to face him, my hand pressed to my burning cheek, and smiled.

Because for the first time in five years, I wasn't afraid.

I was furious.