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.

The pack hospital smelled like antiseptic and wolfsbane tincture. I was restocking the supply closet when Ryan Mitchell appeared in the doorway, his expression grim.

"Maya," he said quietly. "We need to talk."

I glanced around. The hallway was empty, but I still pulled him into the closet and shut the door.

"What is it?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Lucas has been talking. In the locker rooms. Bragging."

My stomach dropped. "About what?"

"About securing the bag." Ryan's jaw tightened. "His words, not mine. He's telling everyone he's going to force you to sign over the deed. Says he'll claim you're mentally unstable because you don't have a fated mate. That you're not fit to own property."

Silver snarled, a vicious sound that echoed in my skull.

"He said that?"

"Word for word." Ryan met my eyes. "Maya, he's planning something. Soon. You need to protect yourself."

I nodded slowly. "Thank you for telling me."

"Be careful," he said, and slipped out of the closet.

I stood there in the dark, surrounded by bandages and bottles, and felt something inside me harden into steel.

---

I left work early. Told the head nurse I had a migraine. She didn't question it—everyone knew about Lucas and Sutton by now. The pack gossip network was relentless.

The elevator ride up to my floor felt longer than usual. Silver was pacing, restless and angry.

"Something's wrong," she growled.

"I know."

The doors opened. I stepped into the foyer and froze.

My study door was open. I always kept it locked. Always.

I moved toward it, my healer's bag still slung over my shoulder. The closer I got, the more I smelled it—that thick, musky scent of arousal. Of two wolves tangled together.

I pushed the door open.

Lucas and Sutton were on my desk. My research papers were scattered across the floor, some torn, some crumpled. The grant proposal I'd spent three months writing was crushed beneath Sutton's bare knee.

They didn't even stop when I walked in.

"Get out," I said.

Lucas looked over his shoulder, his eyes glazed. "Maya. You're home early."

"Get. Out."

Sutton laughed, breathless. "We're busy. Come back later."

Something inside me snapped.

I grabbed Sutton's shirt off the floor and threw it into the hallway. Then Lucas's pants. His shoes. Every piece of clothing I could find.

"What the hell—" Lucas started.

"Out," I said, my voice cold and sharp. "Both of you. Now."

Sutton scrambled off the desk, clutching a throw blanket to her chest. "You can't kick us out!"

"This is my home. My study. My research." I turned to Lucas. "And as of right now, your access to my bank account is terminated. Our relationship is over. Get out."

Lucas's face went white. Then red. "You can't do that."

"I just did."

He moved so fast I barely saw it. One second he was across the room, the next his hand was around my throat, slamming me back against the wall. His fingers were elongating, claws pressing into my skin.

"You ungrateful bitch," he snarled. "I gave you six years."

Silver roared, but I couldn't shift. Couldn't breathe. His grip was crushing my windpipe.

Sutton's voice cut through the ringing in my ears. "That's right! Show her! A wolfless bitch has no right to order a fated couple around!"

Lucas's claws dug deeper. Blood trickled down my neck, hot and wet.

My hand found the silver-plated vase on the side table. The one my mother had given me. Heavy. Solid.

I swung it with everything I had.

It connected with Lucas's forearm. The silver burned through his skin instantly, and he screamed, releasing me. I dropped to my knees, gasping, my throat on fire.

Lucas stared at his arm, at the angry red burn spreading across his skin. Then he looked at me, and his eyes were pure rage.

"You're going to pay for that," he said.