Seven years of lies, forged identities, and breathless escapes had all built up to this single night.

I stood in the center of our luxurious suite at the Crescent Moon Pack, smoothing my hands over the heavy parchment on the mahogany desk. These were the strategic alliance plans I had spent weeks drafting. Every word, every diplomatic clause was carefully designed to impress the Lycan King and solidify our cover as visiting dignitaries.

I, Juliet Morales, was a street-smart rogue with no pack, no family, and no real name to speak of. But tonight, I was a master strategist. This was our masterpiece. Our final job before we could disappear, shed our fake skins, and build a real life together.

I looked over at Reid Wallace. My partner in crime. My chosen mate. He sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, staring intensely at his phone. His thumbs flew across the glowing glass screen.

"Nervous?" I asked softly, crossing the room to wrap my arms around his shoulders.

He stiffened, locking his phone screen instantly. "Just reviewing the guest list," he murmured, his voice distant. He didn't look at me.

"I'm going to get us a drink," I said, kissing the top of his head. "To celebrate. After tonight, no more running. No more sleeping in damp alleys. We'll finally be safe."

Reid offered a tight, forced smile. "Hurry back."

I slipped out of the suite and walked down to the private VIP lounge. I poured two glasses of the most expensive champagne I could find, my heart fluttering with excitement. I hurried back up the stairs, eager to surprise him.

But when I pushed the heavy oak door open, the suite was dead silent. A soft, breathless moan echoed from the bedroom. My inner wolf snapped to attention, the fur on her back rising in immediate distress.

I walked toward the half-open door. The glasses slipped from my fingers, shattering against the hardwood floor.

The sound of breaking glass didn't even stop them.

Reid was in our bed. He was tangled in the expensive silk sheets with a blonde woman. The cloying, sickening scent of vanilla and roses hit my nose—Maren Sanders, the pampered daughter of the Lycan King. The future Luna of North America.

Reid didn't scramble. He didn't panic. He calmly climbed out of the bed, his naked back facing me, and reached for his trousers. Maren smirked, lazily pulling the white sheet over her chest. Her eyes danced with cruel amusement.

"Reid?" my voice cracked. It sounded small. Broken.

He turned around, buttoning his shirt. He ran a hand through his dark hair—his classic tell when he was calculating his next move. But his eyes were entirely cold.

"Don't look so shocked, Juliet," he sneered, his lip curling in disgust. "Did you really think I'd spend the rest of my life with a gutter rogue?"

The words felt like a silver blade driven straight into my chest. "We've been together for seven years," I whispered, my entire body trembling. "We built this together."

"You built a stepping stone," Reid corrected, his voice devoid of any warmth. "I've been courting Maren for months. Why on earth would I settle for garbage when I can have real royalty?"

Before I could even process the shattering of my heart, Reid lunged forward. His hand shot out, gripping my upper arm with bone-crushing force.

"Reid, stop! You're hurting me!" I gasped, stumbling as he yanked me out of the bedroom.

He didn't say a word. He dragged me through the suite, out into the grand hallway, and toward the sweeping marble staircase that led down to the ball.

We hit the ballroom floor. Hundreds of elite wolves in silk gowns and tailored suits turned to look at us. The crystal chandeliers overhead felt blinding.

Reid raised his voice, projecting a commanding tone I had never heard him use. "Guards! Stop the music!"

The orchestra ground to a screeching halt. Reid shoved me hard. I hit the polished marble floor, scraping my palms and tearing my gown. I stared up at him in absolute horror.

Maren appeared at the top of the stairs, her dress perfectly arranged, fake tears streaming down her powdered cheeks. She rushed down the steps and threw herself against Reid's chest, sobbing loudly.

"This woman is a fraud!" Reid's voice boomed across the dead-silent room. He pointed a damning finger at me. "Her name is Juliet Morales! She is a dangerous rogue spy! She used dark magic to seduce me, to infiltrate this pack, and to steal our secrets!"

Gasps of outrage erupted from the crowd. On the raised dais, King Aldric stood up. The Lycan King's eyes blazed with terrifying Alpha fury.

"A rogue spy?" the King thundered, his voice shaking the very walls. "In my hall? Seize her!"

Heavy, armored hands grabbed my arms. The King's guards hauled me off the floor, their grips bruising my flesh. I didn't fight them. I couldn't. The bond inside my chest was screaming, bleeding out from the violent severing of my trust.

As the guards dragged me backward toward the heavy iron doors of the dungeons, the elite crowd parted. They spat insults. They cheered for my betrayer.

I locked eyes with Reid one last time. He stood tall, hailed as a hero, holding the Lycan Princess in his arms. He looked down at me and smirked.

My heart was completely destroyed. But as the dungeon doors slammed shut, swallowing me in darkness, the rogue inside me woke up. He wanted a villain? I would gladly become his nightmare.

The cold seeped into my bones, but it was a fraction of the ice freezing my heart. I sat on the damp stone floor of the dungeon, my knees pulled to my chest. Every breath felt like inhaling broken glass. Seven years of loyalty, of shared secrets and stolen kisses in the dark, had been slaughtered in a single night. Reid's betrayal was a living, bleeding wound in my soul.

The heavy iron door groaned open, shattering the silence. Sharp, rhythmic clicks of expensive heels echoed down the corridor. The cloying scent of vanilla and roses hit my nose before she even stepped into the dim light.

Maren Sanders.

She stood outside my cell bars, the picture of Lycan royalty in a pristine white coat. But the fake, trembling victim from the ballroom was gone. Her lips curled into an ugly, vicious sneer.

"Look at you," Maren mocked, her voice dripping with poison. "Exactly where a filthy rogue belongs."

I didn't answer. I just stared at her, letting my dead, flat gaze meet hers. My silence seemed to infuriate her. She gripped the iron bars, her knuckles turning white.

"You think you're so special, don't you?" she hissed, dropping her voice to a venomous whisper. "I saw the way people looked at you tonight. I saw the way Reid looked at you, even while he was planning to destroy you. You walk around with this sickening confidence, this natural grace that I am supposed to have! I'm the Princess, Juliet. Not you."

She laughed, but it sounded brittle and frantic. "I need you gone. As long as you're breathing, Reid will always compare us. I won't allow it. Your 'merciful exile' tomorrow? It won't be a peaceful walk in the woods, rogue."

She turned on her heel and vanished into the shadows, leaving me with the suffocating smell of her perfume and a chilling promise of death.

Hours later, brutal hands dragged me from the cell. They clamped heavy silver cuffs around my wrists. The metal seared my skin instantly, sending waves of nauseating weakness through my veins. The guards shoved me into the back of an armored transport truck. I hit the metal floor hard, too drained by the burning silver to catch myself.

The drive felt like an eternity. When the truck finally lurched to a halt, the heavy doors swung open to reveal the dark, towering pines of the territory border. A frigid morning wind whipped through my torn dress.

The guards hauled me out and threw me into the dirt. But they didn't unlock the cuffs.

Tires crunched on the gravel behind us. A sleek, black SUV rolled to a stop. The door opened, and Maren stepped out into the freezing air. She didn't look like a princess right now. She looked like a predator.

"Stand down," Maren ordered the guards, not taking her eyes off me. "Return to the pack house. I will handle the rogue's crossing personally."

The guards hesitated, looking at my bound hands, but they didn't dare disobey the future Luna. They climbed into the truck and drove away, leaving me completely alone with her.

The moment the taillights disappeared, Maren's bones began to crack. She dropped to all fours, her body expanding and twisting until a large, sandy-blonde wolf stood in her place. Her yellow eyes locked onto me, burning with lethal intent.

I forced myself to my feet. The silver cuffs burned so hot I could smell my own scorching flesh. I turned and ran into the treeline, my legs trembling.

I didn't make it ten yards.

A massive weight slammed into my back. I hit the forest floor, the breath knocked from my lungs. Maren's claws tore through the fabric of my dress, slicing deep into the flesh of my back. I screamed, thrashing wildly.

She pinned me down, her jaws snapping inches from my face. She wanted to maul me. She wanted to rip my throat out and leave me unrecognizable, just another tragic rogue attack at the border.

Maren lunged for my neck.

Pure, primal survival instinct exploded inside me. I twisted my body, bringing my silver-bound wrists up. As her jaws clamped down toward my jugular, I drove my hands upward. I hooked my fingers like claws and raked my nails violently across her snout and right eye.

Maren shrieked—a high, piercing yelp of agony. She recoiled, blood instantly welling from the deep gashes across her face.

I scrambled backward, gasping for air, blood pouring from my own shredded shoulders. I was at the very edge of a steep, rocky ravine. There was nowhere left to go.

Maren shook her massive head, blood splattering the dead leaves. She looked at my fatal wounds, her yellow eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. She didn't need to bite my throat. Instead, she stepped forward and slammed her heavy paw into my chest.

I tipped backward into the empty air.

The wind roared in my ears. I crashed through thick branches, the wood tearing at my skin and snapping my bones. I hit the rocky bottom with a sickening crunch. Agony exploded through my entire body, so intense it instantly turned into a cold, heavy numbness.

Deep inside my mind, my wolf let out a weak, fading whimper. The trauma was too severe. She curled into a tight ball and slipped into a dark, coma-like state just to keep my heart beating.

I lay broken at the bottom of the ravine, staring up at the tiny patch of gray sky. My blood soaked into the frozen earth. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. But as the darkness finally pulled me under, one thought burned brighter than the pain.

I will survive this. And I will kill them both.

The darkness was heavy and cold. I floated in it, tethered to the waking world only by the agonizing throb of my shattered bones. My inner wolf was completely silent, buried deep in a trauma-induced coma just to keep my organs functioning and my heart beating. I was dying at the bottom of a ravine, bleeding out into the frozen dirt.

Crunching footsteps broke the silence.

I couldn't open my eyes. Was Maren back to finish the job?

A large, warm hand pressed against my neck, checking for a pulse. "Goddess," a deep, gruff voice whispered.

It wasn't Reid. It wasn't a guard. It was Beta Marcus, the Lycan King's right hand.

He shifted my head gently, his fingers brushing the skin behind my left ear. I felt his body go completely rigid. "The crescent mark," he breathed, his voice trembling.

My blood soaked the earth, and with it, something else spilled into the air. The harsh, bitter scent of a rogue was washing away with my fading life force, replaced by something underneath. Something rich, ancient, and undeniably royal. I heard the tear of plastic as he quickly swabbed my blood. Then, strong arms scooped me up, and the dark pulled me under again.

I woke up to the sharp smell of antiseptic and blinding, white-hot pain.

I gasped, my eyes flying open. I was lying in a sterile bed in a dimly lit, unfamiliar room. Thick bandages wrapped tightly around my chest and shoulders.

"Don't move," Beta Marcus said gently. He sat in a chair beside the bed, holding a manila folder. The look in his eyes made my stomach twist. It wasn't pity. It was reverence. And crushing guilt.

"Where am I?" I croaked, my throat raw.

"A private safe house," Marcus replied. "I tracked Maren's scent after she returned from the border. She was too smug. I knew something was wrong." He leaned forward, holding out the folder. "I ran your blood, Juliet. Against the royal registry."

I stared at him, my heart hammering against my broken ribs. "Why would you do that?"

"Because of the birthmark behind your ear. Because of the scent your blood released when your rogue glamor broke." He opened the folder, revealing a stark white lab report. "You aren't a rogue, Juliet. You are the biological daughter of King Aldric. You are the true Lycan Princess."

A bitter, jagged laugh tore from my throat, ending in a cough of agony. "A princess? Are you insane? I've eaten out of garbage cans, Marcus. I've been beaten for crossing borders. I spent seven years lying and stealing just to sleep with a roof over my head!"

"You were stolen," Marcus insisted, his voice thick with emotion. He pointed to the black text on the paper. "Look at the markers. A 99.9 percent match to the King. Maren is an imposter. You are the rightful heir."

I stared at the numbers. The genetic markers. My breath hitched. It couldn't be real. But the unwavering truth in the Beta's eyes paralyzed me. Maren hadn't just stolen my mate. She had stolen my entire life.

"I need to secure the perimeter," Marcus said softly, standing up. "Rest. We will figure out our next move."

The heavy metal door clicked shut behind him. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind a violent storm. I was royalty. I was the Princess.

Click.

The lock tumbled. The door swung open again.

"Forget something?" I whispered.

"Just tying up loose ends."

My blood turned to ice. That smooth, arrogant voice. The scent of pine and deceit.

Reid.

He stepped into the dim light of the safe house, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit that screamed Lycan elite. He didn't look surprised to see me alive. He looked annoyed.

"You always were too stubborn to just die," Reid sneered, walking to the edge of my bed. "Did you really think I couldn't track you? Seven years, Juliet. I know every trick you have. I figured you were hiding out, plotting some pathetic revenge."

I tried to push myself up, but a sharp agony radiated through my chest. "Get out."

Reid ignored me. He reached into his designer jacket and tossed a thick stack of papers onto my lap, followed by a sleek black pen.

I looked down. It was the strategic alliance plans. My masterpiece. The work I had poured my soul into for months to secure our fake identities.

"Sign them," Reid commanded, a forced alpha tone bleeding into his voice. "Sign over the copyrights."

I glared up at the man I had loved. The man who had broken me. "Why?"

"Because Maren needs a diplomatic victory to solidify her position," Reid said coldly, crossing his arms. "And I need the King to see me as the brilliant Future Alpha who helped her draft it. You're going to sign the release, Juliet. You're going to hand over your life's work to my new mate."

Tears of absolute fury burned my eyes. He wasn't just discarding me. He was stripping my bones bare to build his throne, stealing my genius to crown the very woman who had stolen my birthright.

"And if I don't?" I spat.

Reid leaned down, his face inches from mine, his eyes entirely empty of the boy I once knew. "Then I'll let Maren finish what she started in the woods."