I don't remember making the decision to push the door open. One moment I'm frozen in the hallway, the next I'm standing in the doorway of Damian's study, and they're both staring at me like I'm a ghost.

Hope's face drains of color. She steps back from Damian, smoothing down her shirt with trembling hands.

But Damian—Damian doesn't look guilty. He looks annoyed.

"Gemma." My name comes out flat. Cold. "You shouldn't be here."

"Two years," I hear myself say. My voice sounds strange, distant. "You've been with her for two years."

Hope opens her mouth, but Damian raises his hand and she falls silent immediately. The obedience between them is so natural, so practiced. How many times have they done this? How many secret moments have they shared while I was desperately trying to fix myself for him?

"This doesn't concern you," Damian says, and his voice begins to shift. The air in the room grows heavy, oppressive. His Alpha aura unfurls like a dark wave, pressing down on my shoulders. "You need to leave. Now."

The command in his tone would have brought me to my knees a week ago. Would have had me apologizing, retreating, hating myself for daring to question him.

But something inside me has broken. The ritual, the betrayal, the years of suppressing Travis—it's all shattered something fundamental.

"No." The word leaves my lips before I can stop it.

Damian's eyes flash dangerous gold. "What did you say?"

"I said no." My hands are shaking but I don't back down. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to—"

"KNEEL." The Alpha command crashes over me like a physical blow, his voice resonating with power that makes the windows rattle.

My knees buckle. The force of his aura drives me down, and I catch myself on my hands, gasping. The silver from Hope's ritual burns hotter in my veins, weakening me further.

"You did this to yourself," Damian says, and he's walking toward me now, each step deliberate. "Your defective wolf. Your violence. Your inability to be the mate I needed. You pushed me into her arms, Gemma. This is your fault."

The words cut deeper than any physical wound.

"I sacrificed everything for you," he continues, and now there's heat in his voice. Anger. "My Alpha inheritance. My father's approval. I gave it all up to protect you from those rogues, and this is how you repay me? By questioning my choices?"

Inside my mind, Travis is screaming. Raging. Throwing himself against the barriers with such force that I can feel them cracking.

"I tried," I whisper, still on my knees, still pinned by his aura. "I tried so hard to be what you wanted."

"You failed." Damian's voice is merciless. "And now you'll accept this arrangement quietly, or I'll have you removed from the pack house entirely. Hope is my true mate. You're just—"

"Convenient," I finish for him, the word bitter on my tongue. "I heard."

Hope makes a small sound behind him, but I don't look at her. Can't look at her. If I do, I might actually lose control completely.

"Go back to your room," Damian orders. "We'll discuss this later. When you're calmer."

Calmer. As if I'm the one being unreasonable. As if I'm the problem.

I force myself to stand, even though his aura is still pressing down on me, even though every instinct screams to submit. My legs shake but I hold his gaze.

"You're right," I say quietly. "We'll discuss this later."

I turn and walk out, each step measured and controlled. I don't run. I don't cry. I don't give them the satisfaction.

But Travis—Travis is done waiting.

---

The pack gathering the next day is mandatory. Every wolf in the territory crowds into the main courtyard, the afternoon sun beating down on us as Damian addresses concerns about recent rogue activity near our borders.

I stand near the back, trying to be invisible. Trying to hold Travis down as he claws and snarls inside my mind, demanding blood, demanding justice.

Hope is at Damian's side, playing the role of concerned healer, her expression appropriately serious. No one knows. No one suspects.

The rage builds with every second I watch them together.

"—increased patrols," Damian is saying, his voice carrying across the crowd. "We won't tolerate any threats to our pack's safety."

That's when Travis breaks free.

The shift happens so fast I don't have time to fight it. One moment I'm human, the next Travis surges forward, seizing control with a violence that makes several nearby wolves stumble back in shock.

My vision sharpens. Predatory. My eyes must be glowing because I can see the fear rippling through the crowd.

"LIAR." The word rips from my throat in a voice that's mine and not mine, carrying Travis's fury. The sound echoes across the courtyard, silencing everyone.

Damian's head snaps toward me, his expression darkening. "Gemma, stand down."

"You talk about protecting the pack," Travis snarls through my lips, and I'm walking forward now, the crowd parting before me. "But you can't even be honest with your own mate. What kind of Alpha are you?"

Gasps ripple through the gathered wolves. No one challenges an Alpha like this. No one.

Damian's aura explodes outward, his Alpha command rolling over the courtyard. "I said STAND DOWN."

But Travis doesn't kneel. Doesn't submit. Instead, my wolf meets that command with his own raw power, and I feel it surge through me—wild, untamed, refusing to be suppressed anymore.

The two forces collide in the space between us, and Damian actually takes a step back, his eyes widening in shock.

Then Hope is moving.

She rushes forward, her healer's bag already open. "She's gone feral!" she screams at the panicked crowd. "Everyone get back! She's dangerous!"

I'm so focused on Damian, on Travis's challenge, that I don't see her coming from my blind spot.

The needle plunges into my neck.

Liquid silver floods my system, and Travis's roar of fury is the last thing I hear before the world goes dark.

The world comes back in fragments.

First, there's pain—sharp and burning, like my veins are filled with molten silver. Then there's the smell of my own sweat-soaked sheets. The moonlight streaming through my window tells me hours have passed since Hope's needle found my neck.

Travis is buried deep, so deep I can barely feel him. Just a faint pulse of rage somewhere in the darkness of my mind, weakened but not gone.

I should stay in bed. Should let the silver work its way out of my system. Should be the good, obedient mate who accepts her place.

But Damian's scent is fading from the pack house.

I force myself upright, my arms shaking with the effort. The fever makes everything blur at the edges, but I can still track that scent—earthy musk mixed with pine, leading away from our territory. Leading toward the Beta's lands.

Toward Hope's family estate.

The walk takes forever. Every step sends fire through my muscles, and twice I have to stop and lean against trees, gasping. The silver sedative clings to my system like poison, making my wolf retreat further with each labored breath.

But I keep moving.

The Beta's estate rises against the night sky, all elegant stone and manicured gardens. I've been here before, back when Hope and I were actually friends. Back when I was stupid enough to believe her concern was real.

Damian's scent grows stronger as I approach, twining with Hope's in that sickeningly intimate way. I stay in the tree line, using the shadows to hide my weakened form.

Then I see them.

The balcony overlooks the gardens, and they're standing there like some perfect portrait of mates—Damian's arm around Hope's waist, her head resting on his shoulder. The sight makes my stomach twist, but I force myself to stay still. To listen.

"—all dead now," Damian is saying, his voice carrying clearly in the night air. "Victor Stone was the last one. Travis tore him apart three months ago."

Hope laughs, the sound light and pleased. "Your little enforcer did her job well. All your rivals eliminated, and no one suspects the Alpha's mate's wolf was doing the dirty work."

"She was useful," Damian agrees, and the casual dismissal in his tone makes Travis stir weakly in the back of my mind. "But now that the threats are gone, we don't need her violence anymore. Travis is too unpredictable. Too dangerous."

"So we move forward with the plan?" Hope's voice takes on an eager edge. "You reject her officially, claim me as Luna?"

"Soon." Damian's hand moves to Hope's hair, stroking it gently. "We need to be careful. If Travis breaks free during the rejection, he could kill half the pack before we put him down."

Put him down.

Like an animal.

Like something disposable.

"The ritual weakened her," Hope says, and there's pride in her voice. Pride in what she's done to me. "A few more treatments and Travis will be too suppressed to fight back. Then you can reject her cleanly, and we can finally stop hiding."

The silver burns hotter in my veins, but it's nothing compared to the rage building in my chest. All those times Travis eliminated threats to Damian's power. All those violent episodes I hated myself for. We were being used. Weaponized. And the moment we were no longer useful—

I step out of the shadows.

My legs barely hold me, and I have to grip the garden gate to stay upright, but I don't care. I need them to see me. Need them to know I heard everything.

"Gemma." Damian's voice is sharp with surprise, but he doesn't let go of Hope. Doesn't even pretend to be ashamed. "You should be resting."

"Tell me the truth." My voice comes out rough, raw. "What happens to me after you reject me? What's the plan?"

Hope's eyes gleam in the moonlight, and something shifts in her expression. Something calculating and cruel.

She pulls away from Damian and walks to the balcony railing, looking down at me with a smile that makes my skin crawl. "You really want to know?"

"Hope," Damian warns, but she ignores him.

"The truth is, Gemma," she continues, her voice sweet as poison, "Damian can't stand to touch you. Every time he looks at you, he sees that defective, violent wolf. You repulse him. You always have."

She descends the balcony steps, moving closer. Too close.

"He only kept you around because Travis was useful. A weapon he could point at his enemies." Another step. "But now? Now you're just broken. Pathetic. A liability."

Inside my mind, Travis stirs. The silver should keep him down, should keep him buried, but Hope's words are like gasoline on embers.

"You were never meant to be Luna," Hope whispers, now just feet away from me. "You were never meant to be anything but a tool. And once a tool breaks—"

Travis surges forward with a snarl that rips from my throat, and Hope's smile widens.

She wanted this.

She wanted me to lose control.

And I just gave her exactly what she needed.

Travis's growl rumbles through my chest, low and threatening. The silver still burns in my veins, but my wolf's fury cuts through the poison like a blade. Hope stands just feet away, that cruel smile still playing on her lips.

"You were never meant to be anything but a tool," she repeats, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Travis bares his teeth through my human form, and I feel my canines elongate slightly. The warning is clear—back off or face the consequences.

But Hope doesn't back off. Instead, her smile widens.

Then everything happens at once.

Hope lunges sideways toward the stone pillar that decorates the garden entrance. Before I can process what she's doing, she drags her arm across the jagged edge with a sickening scrape. Blood immediately wells up, dark and thick in the moonlight.

"No—" I start, but she's already throwing herself backward.

Down the patio stairs she tumbles, her body hitting each stone step with horrible thuds. The sound of bone meeting stone makes my stomach lurch. When she finally comes to rest at the bottom, blood streams from the gash on her arm and a new cut on her forehead.

For a heartbeat, everything is silent.

Then Hope's scream pierces the night.

"HELP ME!" Her voice is raw, agonized, carrying across the estate grounds. "SHE ATTACKED ME! THE FERAL WOLF ATTACKED ME!"

I'm frozen, staring down at her crumpled form in horror. This isn't real. This can't be happening.

"Travis went mad!" Hope sobs, clutching her bleeding arm to her chest. "He threw me down the stairs! Oh goddess, the baby—the baby!"

Baby?

My blood turns to ice.

"She killed my pup!" Hope's wails grow louder, more desperate. "Damian's heir! She murdered our child!"

The lie hits me like a physical blow. There was no baby. There couldn't have been. But as Hope writhes on the ground, blood soaking through her dress, her performance is flawless.

Footsteps thunder across the estate grounds. Voices shouting. The pack warriors are coming, drawn by their Beta's daughter's screams.

"Hope!" I stumble toward the stairs, my legs still weak from the silver. "Stop this. Tell them the truth!"

But she only screams louder. "Stay back! Don't let her near me!"

The first warrior reaches us—a massive wolf named Kane who's served Hope's father for years. His eyes take in the scene: Hope bleeding at the bottom of the stairs, me standing above her with Travis still flickering in my gaze.

His conclusion is instant.

"Murderer," he snarls.

I barely have time to raise my hands before he tackles me to the ground. My weakened body offers no resistance as his weight crushes me into the dirt. The impact drives the air from my lungs.

"I didn't—" I gasp, but Kane's knee presses into my spine.

"Shut up," he growls. "You've done enough damage."

More warriors arrive, surrounding us in a circle of hostile faces. They see what Hope wants them to see—a dangerous, unstable wolf who just attacked their Beta's pregnant daughter.

"Get off me!" Travis surges forward, lending me strength I don't have. But the silver in my system makes even his power feel muted, distant.

Another warrior joins Kane, and together they pin my arms behind my back. The position sends fire through my shoulders, but their grip is unrelenting.

"Hope, sweetheart." Damian's voice cuts through the chaos.

I crane my neck and see him running across the grounds, his face a mask of panic and rage. He drops to his knees beside Hope's bleeding form, gathering her into his arms with infinite tenderness.

"The baby," Hope whispers, and even I can hear the fake weakness in her voice. "Damian, I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect our baby."

Damian's head snaps up, his eyes finding mine across the garden. The fury in his gaze is absolute. Murderous.

"You killed my child," he says, and his voice is deadly quiet.

"There was no child!" I struggle against the warriors' hold, desperation making my voice crack. "She's lying! She hurt herself!"

"SILENCE." Damian's Alpha command crashes over me like a tidal wave, forcing my wolf to cower despite Travis's rage.

He stands slowly, Hope still cradled in his arms, and walks toward me. Each step is measured, controlled, but I can feel the violence radiating from him.

"You will never speak again," he says when he reaches me. "Not to defend yourself. Not to spread your poison. You're done."

Kane produces silver chains from his belt—the kind used for the most dangerous criminals. The metal burns my skin the moment it touches me, and Travis retreats deeper into my mind with a whimper of pain.

"Damian, please," I whisper as the chains lock around my wrists. "You know me. You know I wouldn't—"

His hand strikes my cheek with enough force to snap my head sideways. The slap echoes across the silent grounds.

"I know exactly what you are," he says. "And tomorrow, so will everyone else."

As the warriors drag me away, Hope's satisfied smile burns itself into my memory. She's won. Completely and utterly.

And tomorrow, she'll watch me burn.