The wind screamed across the jagged cliffs like a wounded animal, tearing at my hair and clothes with icy fingers. Below, the ocean churned black and furious, waves smashing against the rocks with a violence that made my stomach clench. I couldn't breathe. My lungs felt too small, my chest too tight.

"Luna Claire." Morgan's voice cut through the storm, sweet as poisoned honey. "We've been working on your resilience training for weeks now. Today, you dive."

I took a shaky step back from the edge, my wolf whimpering deep inside me. The drop had to be at least sixty feet, maybe more. The water below looked like churning ink, littered with sharp rocks that broke the surface like teeth.

"I... I can't." The words came out barely above a whisper. "Morgan, please. The storm—"

"That's exactly why today is perfect." She moved closer, her expression the picture of patient concern. Anyone watching would think she was a dedicated mentor pushing her Luna to greatness. Only I could see the cold satisfaction in her eyes. "A Luna must be strong, Claire. The pack needs to see you overcome your fears."

My hands were shaking. I pressed them against my thighs, trying to steady myself. "This isn't training. This is—"

"What's going on here?"

Kane's voice boomed across the cliff top, and I felt my mate bond pulse with his approach. For one desperate second, relief flooded through me. He would see how insane this was. He would stop it.

But when I turned to face my mate, the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, I saw only irritation creasing his handsome features.

"Kane, thank the Goddess." I moved toward him instinctively. "Morgan wants me to jump in this storm, and I—"

"Have been resisting basic Luna training for three weeks." His words were ice water down my spine. "Morgan has been more than patient with you, Claire."

"Patient?" My voice cracked. "Kane, look at the water. Look at those rocks. I could die—"

"You're being dramatic." He crossed his arms, his jaw tight with disappointment. "Your wolf will heal any injuries. This is about mental strength, which you clearly lack."

Morgan made a soft sound of distress. "Alpha Kane, perhaps we should postpone. I don't want Claire to feel... forced."

The false sympathy in her voice made my wolf snarl weakly. But Kane's expression softened immediately as he looked at his childhood friend.

"You've already given up your afternoon for this, Morgan. I won't let my mate's cowardice waste more of your time." He turned back to me, and his eyes flashed with Alpha authority. "Claire. Jump. Now."

"No." I shook my head frantically. "Kane, please, I'm begging you—"

"I said NOW." His Alpha Command slammed into me like a physical blow.

My body moved without my permission. One foot in front of the other. My wolf was screaming inside my head, terror making her voice shrill and broken. I tried to stop, tried to dig my heels in, but the Alpha Command was absolute. My muscles weren't mine anymore.

The cliff edge rushed closer. The wind howled. The ocean roared.

And then there was nothing beneath my feet.

I fell.

The scream tore from my throat as the world spun into chaos. Wind, water, sky—all blurring together. I hit the surface hard, the impact stealing every bit of air from my lungs. Freezing water closed over my head, dragging me down into darkness.

Something sharp caught my side. Pain exploded through my ribs, white-hot and blinding. I couldn't tell which way was up. My lungs burned. My wolf was too weak to help, too terrified to surface.

Finally, somehow, I broke through to air. I gasped and choked, salt water burning my throat. A wave slammed me against a rock, and I felt something crack. My ribs. Two of them, snapping like dry twigs.

The agony was indescribable.

Hands grabbed me—rough, impersonal pack warrior hands—and dragged me onto the rocky shore. I lay there gasping like a dying fish, each breath a knife through my chest. Blood mixed with seawater on my lips.

Through the haze of pain, I heard Kane's voice. But he wasn't coming to me.

"Morgan, you're shivering. Here." The rustle of fabric. "Take my coat. You shouldn't have stayed out in this weather just to help her."

"I just... I wanted to see her succeed." Morgan's voice was breathless, perfectly pitched to sound concerned and exhausted. "She's so lucky to have a mate as patient as you, Alpha."

I tried to speak, to call for him, but only a wheeze came out. My vision was graying at the edges.

"Claire." Kane finally looked down at me, and I saw only annoyance in his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic. Your ribs will heal. Maybe next time you'll take Morgan's training more seriously instead of making such a scene."

He turned away, his arm around Morgan's shoulders, guiding her back toward the pack house.

No one helped me up. I lay there on the rocks, broken and bleeding, watching my mate walk away with the woman who was slowly killing me.

And somewhere above the storm, I could have sworn I heard Morgan laugh.

The cage door hung open like a broken jaw.

I stared at it, my heart dropping into my stomach. The little wire door I always latched so carefully—open. The soft bedding I'd changed just yesterday—scattered. The water bottle—knocked over, dripping onto the floor.

Snowy was gone.

"No." The word came out strangled. I dropped to my knees, searching under the small table where I kept her cage. "Snowy? Baby, where are you?"

Nothing. Just dust and silence.

I tore through my quarters like a woman possessed. Under the bed. Behind the dresser. In the closet. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely pull open drawers. She had to be here. She had to be hiding, scared maybe, but safe.

Please, Goddess, let her be safe.

I yanked open my door and nearly collided with Marissa, one of the omega staff members.

"Have you seen Snowy?" My voice was too loud, too desperate. "My rabbit—she's white, about this big—"

"The Luna's pet?" Marissa's lip curled slightly. "No. Maybe it finally escaped all your... hovering."

She walked away before I could respond.

I spent the next hour searching. The kitchen staff barely looked up when I asked. The warriors in the training yard laughed, actually laughed, when I interrupted their drills. One of them—David, I think—made a joke about rabbit stew that made the others howl.

My wolf was whimpering, weak and anxious. She could barely sense anything anymore, not since the Wolfbane had damaged something fundamental inside us. But she felt my panic, and it fed hers, creating a horrible spiral of fear.

By the time I stumbled back to my quarters, my ribs—still healing from the cliff dive two weeks ago—were screaming. Each breath felt like broken glass.

Snowy was really gone.

The knock on my door made me jump.

"Claire." Kane didn't wait for permission. He stepped inside, his presence filling the small room instantly. "The Winter Solstice Banquet begins in three hours."

I turned to face him, hope flaring stupidly in my chest. "Kane, Snowy is missing. I've looked everywhere, and I think someone might have—"

"I need you to stay in your quarters until the main ceremony." His voice was flat, businesslike. "Your appearance lately has been... concerning to pack members."

The hope died. "My appearance?"

"You look ill. Pale. Weak." He gestured vaguely at me, not quite meeting my eyes. "It's bad for morale. Morgan has worked very hard on this celebration, and I won't have you dampening the atmosphere."

Morgan. Of course.

"Someone took my rabbit," I said quietly. "Kane, please. Just help me look for her. She's small and scared and—"

"It's a rabbit, Claire." His jaw tightened with barely concealed irritation. "The pack has more important concerns than a pet. Stay here. Someone will fetch you when it's time."

He left. Just like that.

I sank onto my bed, my broken ribs protesting, and stared at the empty cage. Snowy had been the only thing in this pack house that loved me without condition. The only creature who didn't look at me with disappointment or contempt. She would curl up in my lap when I cried, her little nose twitching against my fingers.

Now she was gone.

And Kane was arm-in-arm with Morgan somewhere, planning a party.

***

The banquet hall glittered with ice-blue decorations and silver ribbons. Candles flickered on every surface, casting dancing shadows across the assembled pack members. Everyone was dressed in their finest—furs and silks and leather that probably cost more than I'd ever owned.

I sat at the high table in a dress someone had left outside my door. It was too loose, hanging off my shoulders in a way that made me look even more skeletal than usual. My ribs still ached with every breath.

Kane sat at the center, magnificent in black and silver. Morgan was on his right, wearing a stunning gown of deep crimson. Her fur-lined cloak draped elegantly over her shoulders.

I was on his left, but I might as well have been invisible.

The feast began. Platters of roasted meat, fresh bread, winter vegetables glazed with honey. The scents should have been mouthwatering, but my stomach was twisted into knots. I pushed food around my plate, not tasting anything.

Morgan laughed at something Kane said, her hand resting on his arm. The sound carried across the table, bright and musical.

Then I saw it.

Hanging from the clasp of her cloak—a small charm. White fur, impossibly soft and pristine. Rabbit fur.

No.

My vision tunneled. The noise of the banquet faded to a distant roar.

Morgan turned her head, as if she could feel my stare. Our eyes met across Kane's broad shoulders. Slowly, deliberately, she reached up and fingered the white fur charm. Her lips moved, forming words meant only for me.

"It was so soft."

The world tilted.

I couldn't breathe. My chest was too tight, my lungs refusing to work. Snowy. That was Snowy. That was my Snowy's fur hanging from the neck of the woman who had been torturing me for seven years.

She killed her. She killed my rabbit and wore her as a trophy.

"Claire?" Kane's voice sounded far away. "What's wrong with you?"

I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't hold me. The room was spinning, black spots dancing across my vision. My broken ribs screamed as I gasped for air that wouldn't come.

Morgan smiled at me over the rim of her wine glass.

And I realized, with horrible clarity, that she wanted me to break right here, right now, in front of everyone.

She wanted them all to see the weak, hysterical Luna fall apart over a pet.

I was going to give her exactly what she wanted.

The wine spread across the white tablecloth like blood.

I watched it happen in slow motion—my hand knocking the goblet, the dark liquid arcing through candlelight, splashing onto the pristine fabric. The music stopped. Conversations died mid-sentence. Every eye in the banquet hall turned toward me.

And I couldn't stop crying.

The sobs tore out of me, ugly and desperate. Snowy's fur swayed gently against Morgan's throat as she leaned back in mock concern. That white softness that used to nuzzle against my palm when I was alone and breaking. Now a trophy. Now a taunt.

"Claire." Kane's voice cut through my gasping breaths like a blade. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. My broken ribs screamed with each heaving sob.

"Stand up." His Alpha Tone slammed into me, and my body obeyed before my mind could catch up. I rose on shaking legs, wine dripping from the table edge onto my too-loose dress. "You're making a scene over a rodent."

"She killed her," I choked out. "Morgan killed Snowy and she's wearing her—"

"Enough." Kane's eyes flashed gold with his wolf. The entire pack felt the weight of his dominance pressing down. "This is pathetic, Claire. Even for you."

Morgan touched his arm gently. "Alpha, perhaps the Luna isn't feeling well. The stress of the season—"

"The stress of being a spoiled, ungrateful mate who can't handle the smallest disappointment." He stood, towering over me. Around us, pack members whispered. I caught fragments—weak Luna, embarrassing, losing her mind. "You will apologize to Morgan for disrupting her celebration. Now."

The words stuck in my throat like shards of glass.

"I said NOW." The Alpha Command crushed down on me, stealing what little air I had left.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, looking at the woman wearing my rabbit's fur. "I'm sorry, Morgan."

She smiled, soft and forgiving. "Of course, Luna. I understand you're... struggling."

Kane dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "Go back to your quarters. You're done here."

I fled through the silent crowd, their stares burning into my back.

***

The blood came three days later.

I was in my quarters, staring at Snowy's empty cage, when the coughing started. At first it was just a tickle, an irritation in my throat. Then it became violent, wracking spasms that bent me double.

When I pulled my hand away from my mouth, it was covered in red.

Panic shot through me. My wolf whimpered weakly, barely conscious inside my mind. The burning started next—a searing pain in my veins, like liquid fire crawling through my bloodstream.

I stumbled to the pack clinic, each step agony. Dr. Reed looked up from his desk with barely concealed annoyance.

"Luna. What now?"

"I'm coughing up blood." I showed him my stained hands. "And my veins—they're burning. Something's wrong. Please, I need tests—"

"Sit down." He didn't move from his chair. "How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?"

"It started today, but I've been feeling weak for months. Years, actually. And my wolf, she can barely—"

"Your wolf is fine." He cut me off, making a note on his tablet. "What you're experiencing is psychosomatic. Stress-induced manifestations."

"Psychosomatic?" The word felt foreign on my tongue. "But the blood—"

"Can be caused by excessive coughing from anxiety. Which you clearly have in abundance." He set down his tablet and fixed me with a stern look. "Luna Claire, I'm going to be frank with you. These phantom illnesses, these dramatic displays—they're cries for attention. You're jealous of the bond between Alpha Kane and Morgan, and your mind is creating physical symptoms to justify that jealousy."

The room tilted. "No. No, that's not—"

"I'll be reporting to the Alpha that you came in with more fabricated symptoms." He stood, opening the door in clear dismissal. "Perhaps you should consider speaking with a therapist about your... issues."

I walked out in a daze, my hands still sticky with blood he refused to test.

***

My birthday dawned cold and gray.

I woke to pounding on my door. Before I could answer, it swung open. Morgan stood there, one hand pressed to her chest, her face pale and drawn.

"Claire." Her voice was breathy, weak. "I need your help."

Behind her, I could see pack members gathering in the hallway, their expressions worried. For her. Always for her.

"What's wrong?" The question came automatically, even though every instinct screamed at me to slam the door.

"My wolf—she's fading again. Badly this time." Morgan swayed, and two warriors rushed to steady her. "There's a flower. Moonflower. It grows in the northern woods, deep in the forest. It's the only thing that can stabilize her."

"The northern woods?" My mouth went dry. "Morgan, that's rogue territory. It's dangerous—"

"Which is why I can't go myself. I'm too weak." Her eyes met mine, and I saw the trap closing. "Please, Luna. As a favor. For the pack."

Kane's voice boomed from down the hall. "What's going on?"

Morgan turned to him, tears streaming down her face. "My wolf is dying, Alpha. I need Moonflower from the northern woods, but I'm too fragile to make the journey."

Kane's jaw tightened. He looked at me, and I saw the order forming before he spoke it.

"Claire will go." Not a question. A command. "I have border patrols to oversee, but you can handle gathering a flower. Consider it your contribution to the pack for once."

"Kane, it's my birthday—"

"And Morgan is dying." His eyes flashed. "Stop being selfish for one damn day."

Morgan pressed something into my hand—a roughly drawn map, the northern woods marked with an X. "Thank you, Luna," she whispered. "You're saving my life."

I looked down at the map, at the dense forest marked in the most dangerous part of our territory.

And I knew, with horrible certainty, that I was walking into another trap.

But Kane was already walking away, and the pack was watching, and I had no choice.

I had never had a choice.