"I do not care if you have silver." The innkeeper slid my coin across the scratched wooden counter, pushing it right off the edge. It clattered against the floorboards. "You are not sleeping here."

"The sun is setting," I said, keeping my hands flat on the desk. "I just need a room for one night. I will be gone before your morning crowd arrives."

He tapped a fresh sheet of parchment nailed to the front pillar of the tavern. "Mooncrest just sent a second rider. Read it yourself. The exiled Luna walked out with a silver-wolf brooch from the ceremony."

"I did not take anything." I turned around, dragging my right trunk closer to the lantern light spilling from the hearth.

"Tell that to the Alpha," the innkeeper muttered, wiping down a mug with a dirty rag. "I am not risking my business harboring a thief."

"I am not a thief," I fired back.

I dropped to my knees and popped the brass latches on my luggage. I threw the lid open. My sweaters and dresses lay exactly where I had checked them earlier. I shoved my hands past the heavy wool, running my fingers along the rough canvas bottom.

A thick, uneven thread dug into my skin.

I traced the seam. Someone had stitched a new pocket right into the lining. It was a sloppy job, rushed and hidden beneath the bottom fold.

I hooked my fingernail under the loose thread and pulled. The canvas split.

"Step away from the luggage."

Two Mooncrest patrolmen shoved through the tavern doors, their heavy boots thudding against the floorboards.

"I found a false pocket," I told them, pointing at the torn seam. "Someone tampered with my trunk."

One guard lunged forward and grabbed my shoulder, hauling me back. The other reached directly into the torn lining. He dug around for a second before pulling out a gleaming silver-wolf brooch. He held it up to the lantern light, letting the embedded diamonds catch the flame.

The tavern patrons murmured, sliding out of their chairs.

"Ugly and a thief," a woman whispered near the fireplace, clutching her ale.

"Crazy bitch actually stole from the new Luna," a man replied, laughing loudly. "Guess losing her mate made her lose her mind."

I stared at the patrolman holding the jewelry. The realization hit me like a physical blow. They were not just kicking me out. Someone was actively making sure every neutral territory slammed their doors in my face. They wanted me entirely isolated.

"Move," the guard ordered, shoving me toward the exit.

"I did not put that there," I said, stumbling forward.

"Save it for the Alpha," he snapped.

They marched me back to the border judgment pavilion, forcing me onto the cold stone floor beneath the open-air rotunda.

Caleb stood by the iron brazier, holding a stolen items list. He did not look surprised to see me. He did not look angry. He just looked bored.

"My guards packed those trunks," I said, getting to my feet. "I never had a moment alone with them. Ask your own men who touched the canvas."

"You were humiliated last night." Caleb kept his eyes on the parchment. "Revenge is a predictable motive."

"Check the staff logs," I pushed, taking a step toward him. "Whoever sewed that pocket left a trail. You know I lack the skill to sew canvas. If you actually investigate, you will see I was framed."

Caleb finally looked up. He handed the list to a guard. "The brooch belongs to Ivy's family. It carries both the Arden and Mooncrest marks. You had access to the ceremony room before the event."

"Four years," I said, my voice echoing off the stone pillars. "Four years of standing by your side, and you really think I would steal a brooch she wore?"

"People change when they lose power," Caleb replied smoothly.

"I did not want the power, Caleb. I wanted my mate."

"You wanted a title you could no longer uphold." Caleb gestured to the guard on my left. "Brand her."

The guard grabbed my forearm, twisting my wrist upward. He pulled a cold iron stamp from his belt and pressed it against my skin.

A temporary thief mark burned into my flesh, glowing a dull, angry red.

I did not scream. I locked my eyes on Caleb, waiting for a flicker of hesitation. I wanted to see a single ounce of guilt in his eyes.

"Four years only proved I was wrong about you," Caleb stated, his tone flat.

My jaw unclenched. I stopped pulling against the guard's grip. I used to think Caleb was just weak, bending to the council's pressure to replace me. I was wrong. He was actively choosing to condemn me without proof, just to ensure Ivy and the Pack felt secure. He needed a villain to justify his betrayal, and he was making me play the part.

"Take her outside," Caleb ordered.

The guard dragged me toward the pavilion exit. As we passed the evidence table, the fresh brand on my wrist flared with a sharp, stinging heat. It pulsed in time with my heartbeat.

The silver brooch rested on a velvet cloth.

A faint, charred-sugar scent drifted off the metal.

My stomach dropped.

Ten years ago, the Moon Temple burned. I was twelve. I ran into the Silver Fire, shoved two trapped pups out the door, and woke up with half my face melted. My wolf went completely silent that same night.

The Arden family paid to seal the investigation. They funded the rebuild. I never questioned their charity.

But this brooch smelled exactly like the Silver Fire. It was a scent I could never forget, baked into my nightmares for a decade.

"Caleb, wait." I planted my boots against the floor, stopping the guards. "Smell the metal."

"Keep moving," the guard barked, yanking my arm.

"It has the same chemical ash scent from the temple fire," I insisted, fighting the hands pushing me forward. "Ivy's family funded the cleanup. The Ardens hid the evidence, Caleb. Smell it!"

Caleb rolled his eyes. He signaled the guards to drag me harder. "Stop using a ten-year-old tragedy to dodge a theft charge."

"I am not lying," I shouted, my voice cracking. "The fire that burned my face is on that metal! The Ardens started it!"

"You are desperate," Caleb said, walking over to the table. "And it is pathetic. You will say anything to ruin Ivy."

"Smell it yourself!" I demanded.

"Enough." Caleb turned his back on me. "Revoke her neutral pass. She walks north through the Pass. Now. I want her gone within the hour."

He was not going to lock me in the dungeon. That would violate his public decree of permanent exile. He was choosing the colder option. He was throwing me to the rogues.

"Let me keep the brooch as evidence," I demanded, digging my heels into the stone. "If I am a thief, let me keep my prize."

"No." Caleb picked up the silver wolf.

He flipped it over, exposing the underside for a single second. I locked my eyes on the metal. A tiny, intertwined double-A rested beneath the clasp. The Arden maker mark. I burned the shape into my memory.

"Get her out of my sight," Caleb ordered, dropping the brooch into his pocket.

The guards hauled me out of the pavilion, dragging me down the muddy trail leading away from the market.

Dusk cast long, gray shadows across the unwarded forest. The air grew colder with every step, the safety of the neutral zone fading behind us. We reached the northern edge of Raven Pass.

"Keep walking," the patrolman said. He pulled a hunting knife and sliced the ropes binding my wrists.

He shoved me forward onto the dirt trail.

I stumbled, catching myself on a rotting tree trunk. The rough bark scraped my palms, leaving streaks of dirt across my skin.

"Do not look back," the second guard warned.

Behind me, heavy iron hinges groaned. The gate slammed shut. The deadbolt slid into place with a loud, final crack.

I stood alone in the fading light. The wind howled through the barren branches, carrying the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves. My wrist throbbed where the thief mark continued to glow.

A twig snapped in the brush ahead.

I raised my head.

Three pairs of glowing yellow eyes stepped out from the tree line, hovering far too high off the ground to belong to normal wolves.