I smoothed down the front of my navy dress for the third time, checking my reflection in the hallway mirror. The table behind me was set with Lucas's favorite—rosemary lamb chops, roasted vegetables, and a bottle of the Cabernet he'd been eyeing for months. Six years together, and I still got butterflies when he came home from pack events.

My wolf, Silver, had been restless all evening, pacing in tight circles at the back of my mind. I tried to soothe her with gentle mental touches, but she only growled low and anxious.

"What's wrong?" I whispered to her.

"Something's coming," she replied, her voice sharp. "Something wrong."

The elevator chimed. My heart leaped, and I turned toward the foyer with a smile already forming on my lips. The doors slid open, and the smell hit me like a physical blow.

Fermented wolfsbane. Thick and cloying, the kind that lingered after the Blood Moon Festival's traditional ceremonies. But underneath it—something else. Something musky and raw and utterly wrong. The scent of two wolves who had marked each other, their essences permanently intertwined.

My smile froze.

Lucas stepped out of the elevator, his dark hair disheveled, his shirt half-untucked. He wasn't alone. Sutton Bradley walked beside him, her hand clasped in his, her blonde hair tangled and her lips swollen. They both looked like they'd just rolled out of bed.

My wolf snarled, a vicious sound that reverberated through my skull.

Lucas's eyes met mine. For a split second, something flickered across his face—guilt, maybe, or fear—but it vanished so quickly I might have imagined it. He dropped Sutton's hand and stepped forward.

"Maya," he said, his voice too casual, too light. "We need to talk."

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The scent was overwhelming now, filling my lungs with every inhale. Mated. They were mated.

"What—" My voice cracked. I swallowed hard and tried again. "What is this?"

Sutton stepped forward, her chin lifted in defiance. She was wearing one of those cheap festival dresses, the kind sold at vendor stalls for twenty dollars. The neckline was askew, revealing a fresh bite mark on the curve of her shoulder—angry red, still weeping slightly, unmistakably a mating mark.

My stomach dropped.

"Lucas," I said slowly, my healer's training kicking in, forcing my voice to remain steady. "Explain. Now."

He had the audacity to look annoyed. He reached up and yanked down his collar, revealing an identical mark on his neck. The sight of it sent a wave of nausea through me so powerful I had to grip the back of the nearest chair to stay upright.

"The Moon Goddess fated us," he said flatly. "We discovered it at the festival. The bond—it was too strong, Maya. We couldn't fight it."

Sutton's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It was meant to be," she added, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

Silver was howling now, a sound of pure rage and betrayal that made my hands shake.

"You marked each other," I said, each word carefully enunciated. "You completed the mating bond."

"It was an accident," Lucas said quickly. Too quickly. "We were drunk on wolfsbane. The festival brew—you know how strong it is. We didn't mean—"

"Bullshit," I snapped, and his eyes widened. I never cursed. Never raised my voice. But something inside me was fracturing, splintering into a thousand jagged pieces. "You don't accidentally complete a mating ceremony, Lucas. It requires intent. It requires—"

I couldn't finish. The words died in my throat as Lucas brushed past me, heading straight for the bar cart in the living room. He poured himself three fingers of my Macallan 25—the bottle I'd been saving for our anniversary next month—and downed it in one gulp.

"Look," he said, turning to face me with the empty glass dangling from his fingers. "I know this is hard for you. But we've been together for six years. We're practically common-law mates. This estate, everything here—we built this life together."

My blood turned to ice.

"What are you saying?"

He set the glass down and crossed his arms. "I'm saying I have rights, Maya. Legal rights. I'm not just going to walk away from everything because the Moon Goddess had other plans for me."

Sutton moved to stand beside him, her hand sliding possessively around his waist. "We think the best solution is for all of us to live here," she said brightly, as if she were suggesting we all go out for coffee. "You and Lucas were never fated anyway. This way, you won't be alone, and we can all be one big happy family."

The rage that flooded through me was so pure, so absolute, that for a moment I couldn't see. Couldn't think. Silver was screaming for blood, clawing at the edges of my control, demanding I shift and tear them both apart.

But I didn't.

Instead, I smiled.

The smile felt like broken glass on my face, but I held it there. Silver was screaming at me to rip their throats out, her fury a living thing clawing at my insides. But Lucas was a trained warrior. His reflexes were faster, his strength greater. If I attacked now, I'd lose.

So I let my smile tremble. Let my hands shake as I reached for the back of the chair again.

"I—" My voice cracked perfectly. "I need time. To process this. The Moon Goddess blessed you both, and I—" I pressed my fingers to my lips, forcing tears to well in my eyes. "I'm just in shock."

Lucas's shoulders relaxed. The tension in his jaw eased. He actually looked relieved.

"Of course," he said, his tone gentling into something that might have passed for compassion if I didn't know better. "This is a lot to take in. We understand."

Sutton's smile widened. She thought she'd won.

"Take all the time you need," she purred. "We're not going anywhere."

I nodded, backing toward the hallway. "I should—I have an early shift at the clinic tomorrow. I need to rest."

Lucas waved me off, already turning back to the bar cart. "Go ahead. We'll talk more in the morning."

I fled to my bedroom and locked the door. The moment the bolt clicked, Silver surged forward.

"We should kill them," she snarled. "Rip them apart. Make them pay."

"Not yet," I whispered, pulling out my phone with shaking hands. "We're smarter than that."

I texted Victoria Stone, the pack's most ruthless prosecutor. We'd worked together on a medical malpractice case last year. She owed me a favor.

Emergency. Need to see you first thing tomorrow. Legal matter. Confidential.

Her response came within seconds. 7 AM. My office. Bring documentation.

I didn't sleep. I spent the night gathering every piece of paper related to the estate—the deed, the mortgage statements, the utility bills. All in my name. Every single one.

---

Victoria's office was in the pack's administrative building, a sleek glass structure that reflected the early morning sun. She was already waiting, a cup of black coffee in one hand and a legal pad in the other.

"Tell me," she said without preamble.

I did. Every humiliating detail. The mating marks. Lucas's claims of common-law rights. Sutton's suggestion that we all live together.

Victoria's expression didn't change, but her pen moved faster and faster across the pad.

"His name isn't on the deed?" she asked when I finished.

"Nowhere." I slid the documents across her desk. "I purchased the estate three years ago with my inheritance. He never contributed a cent."

She flipped through the papers, her lips curving into something predatory. "This is going to be easier than I thought. We can have cease-and-desist orders drafted by noon. But Maya—" She looked up, her dark eyes sharp. "If you want him exiled instead of just evicted, I need more. Evidence of abuse. Threats. Something that proves he's a danger to you."

"I'll get it," I said.

Her smile was cold. "I know you will."

---

I returned home just after ten, my healer's bag slung over my shoulder as if I'd actually been at the clinic. The moment I stepped off the elevator, I knew something was wrong.

The living room had been transformed. My carefully curated art prints were gone, replaced by cheap festival banners. The throw pillows I'd spent weeks selecting were piled in a corner, replaced by garish floral cushions that clashed with everything.

And Sutton was standing in the middle of it all, hands on her hips, surveying her work like she'd just conquered a kingdom.

"What do you think?" she asked brightly. "I thought the place needed a woman's touch."

Silver lunged forward, and I barely held her back.

"Where are my things?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.

"Oh, I put them in storage. They were so drab." She waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry, you'll get used to the new look."

I walked past her toward the master bedroom. The door was open. Inside, Sutton's clothes were scattered across my bed—my bed—and her cheap perfume hung thick in the air.

"Get out," I said.

Sutton appeared in the doorway behind me. "Excuse me?"

"This is my room. Get. Out."

Her eyes narrowed. "Actually, Lucas said I could have it. The master suite is more appropriate for a mated pair."

Footsteps behind us. Lucas emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist, his hair wet.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"She's trying to kick me out of our room," Sutton said, her voice taking on a whining quality.

Lucas's expression hardened. He stepped forward, and suddenly the air felt heavier. Thicker. He was using his aura, pushing it out like a physical force.

"Maya." His voice dropped into that commanding tone warriors used in battle. Not quite an Alpha command, but close enough to make my wolf bristle. "Sutton needs the comfort of the master bed for her transition. You'll take the guest room."

The pressure of his aura pressed down on me, demanding submission. Silver snarled, fighting against it, but I forced her down. Forced myself to lower my eyes.

"Fine," I whispered.

Lucas's aura retreated. "Good. I'm glad you're being reasonable about this."

I turned and walked toward the guest room, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. Behind me, I heard Sutton's triumphant laugh.

Silver's voice was ice in my mind. "We're going to destroy them."

"Yes," I agreed silently, closing the guest room door. "We are."

I woke to the sound of hangers scraping against metal. The guest room was still dark, the curtains drawn tight, but light spilled from the hallway through the crack under the door.

Silver stirred immediately. "Someone's in your closet."

I slipped out of bed and moved silently to the door, easing it open just enough to see down the hall. The master bedroom door stood wide open, and inside, Sutton was rifling through my walk-in closet like she owned it.

My healer's robes hung on the far wall—custom-made silk in deep emerald, embroidered with the Silverwood Pack crest in silver thread. They'd cost me three months' salary, but they were worth every penny. A symbol of my rank. My achievement.

Sutton pulled them off the hanger.

"No," Silver snarled.

I was already moving.

I reached the doorway just as Sutton slipped the robe over her shoulders. The silk pooled around her feet—she was shorter than me, and the hem dragged on the floor. She turned to the full-length mirror, running her hands down the fabric with a look of pure greed.

"Those are mine," I said.

She didn't even flinch. Just kept staring at herself in the mirror, smoothing the silk over her hips. "They look better on me."

"Take them off."

"Why?" She turned, and her smile was vicious. "You're not Lead Healer anymore. Not really. Everyone knows you're just the pathetic she-wolf who couldn't keep her mate."

Silver lunged forward, but I held her back. Barely.

Sutton pressed the collar to her neck, rubbing the fabric against her skin in slow, deliberate circles. Then she moved to her wrists, her throat, behind her ears. The motion was obsessive. Frantic.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

Her eyes met mine in the mirror. "Making sure I smell like success. Like power." She inhaled deeply, her expression almost euphoric. "Like everything you used to be."

Something cold slithered down my spine. This wasn't just theft. This was something else. Something wrong.

I pulled out my phone and took three quick photos. Sutton didn't notice. She was too busy rubbing my robe against her collarbone, her movements growing more aggressive.

"You're sick," I said quietly.

She laughed. "I'm smart. You just don't see it yet."

I turned and walked away before Silver could make me do something I'd regret. Back in the guest room, I opened my evidence journal and wrote down every detail. The obsessive rubbing. The way she'd focused on pulse points. The strange euphoria in her expression.

I didn't understand it yet. But I would.

---

Lucas announced the dinner party on Thursday morning. He didn't ask. Just informed me that six of his warrior friends were coming over Saturday night to celebrate.

"Celebrate what?" I asked.

"My fated mate bond, obviously." He was scrolling through his phone, not even looking at me. "And you'll cook, right? Nothing fancy. Just your usual."

Silver wanted to rip his throat out. I wanted to laugh in his face.

Instead, I said, "Of course."

---

Saturday evening, I set the table with my mother's china. Roasted chicken, garlic potatoes, fresh bread. The kind of meal that took hours to prepare. Lucas's friends arrived at seven, loud and boisterous, filling the apartment with the smell of beer and testosterone.

Ryan Mitchell was the last to arrive. He'd always been different from the others—quieter, more observant. He shook Lucas's hand, but his eyes found mine across the room, and something flickered in them. Pity, maybe. Or disgust.

Dinner started well enough. Lucas held court at the head of the table, Sutton draped over his shoulder like a trophy. He told the story of their mating bond three times, each version more dramatic than the last.

Then Ryan spoke.

"So you're keeping the estate?" he asked, his tone casual.

Lucas grinned. "Of course. Maya and I built this life together."

"Did you?" Ryan's eyes were sharp. "Because I remember you moving in after she bought the place. I remember you borrowing money for warrior training. I remember—"

"That's enough," Lucas snapped.

But Ryan wasn't finished. "I'm just wondering where the honor is in taking a woman's home after you marked someone else."

The table went silent.

Sutton's face flushed red. She grabbed her wine glass and stood so fast her chair tipped backward. "How dare you question us! The Moon Goddess—"

"The Moon Goddess doesn't give you the right to steal," Ryan said quietly.

Sutton's hand moved before I could process it. She hurled her wine glass at the wall behind Ryan's head. It shattered, and red wine exploded across my cream carpet like blood.

"Get out!" she shrieked. "All of you, get out!"

The warriors exchanged glances. One by one, they stood and filed toward the door. Ryan was the last to leave. He paused beside me.

"You deserve better," he said, too low for Lucas to hear.

Then he was gone.

Lucas turned to me, his expression thunderous. "Clean that up."

I looked at the wine staining my carpet. At Sutton, who was breathing hard, her face still flushed with rage. At Lucas, who was pointing at the mess like I was his servant.

"No," I said.

His eyes widened. "What?"

"I said no." I met his gaze and didn't look away. "Your mate made the mess. She can clean it up."

For a moment, I thought he might hit me. His aura flared, pressing down on me with crushing weight. But I didn't move. Didn't flinch.

Finally, he turned away. "Forget it. We're going out."

They left twenty minutes later, Sutton still muttering about disrespect and ungrateful she-wolves.

The moment the elevator doors closed, I pulled out my phone and called the security company Victoria had recommended.

"I need cameras," I said. "And alarms. Silver-laced. Can you install them tonight?"

The technician arrived within the hour.