The morning sun filtered through the trees as Charles assembled the pack in the courtyard. His voice carried across the gathered wolves, strong and commanding.

"Today we will have a mandatory Pack Run," he announced, his eyes sweeping over the crowd. "It's been too long since we've shown our unity as a pack."

My heart sank as I stood at the back, my body still aching from the Wolfsbane Joint Syndrome. Luna stirred weakly within me.

*Brooke, we can't shift fully,* she whimpered. *It hurts too much.*

I raised my hand tentatively. "Charles, I don't think I can participate. My wolf is still damaged, and I'm pregnant."

A ripple of whispers spread through the pack. Charles's jaw tightened as he stared at me.

"Every member of this pack will participate," he said coldly. "Your pregnancy is no excuse."

From beside him, Mrs. Wright spoke up, her voice carrying deliberately. "If she can't even keep up with a simple pack run, how will she serve as Luna?"

Sara nodded in agreement, her eyes gleaming with malice. "A Luna must be strong enough to lead alongside her Alpha. Perhaps Brooke needs to prove her worth."

Charles's expression hardened further. "You will shift partially or run in human form," he commanded, his Alpha tone pressing down on me. "There will be no exceptions."

I felt the weight of his command like a physical force. Luna cried out in pain as we attempted to shift, but only my nails elongated into claws, my teeth sharpened slightly. Not enough to run with the wolves.

"Let's begin," Charles ordered, already stripping off his shirt.

One by one, the pack members shifted into their wolf forms, powerful muscles rippling beneath fur as they howled in unison. Charles's wolf was massive, silver-gray with amber eyes that didn't even glance in my direction.

Sara's wolf pranced beside him, her russet fur gleaming in the sunlight. She looked back at me, her wolf's mouth pulling into what looked disturbingly like a smile before they bounded into the forest.

I followed on foot, my human legs no match for their powerful strides. The pack disappeared into the trees, leaving me alone to struggle over the rocky terrain. Sharp stones cut into my bare feet as I ran, my lungs burning with exertion.

"Please," I whispered to Luna, "just a little more strength."

But she could give no more. The damage from the blizzard had weakened her too severely.

By the time I reached the steep ridge where the pack had gathered, I was exhausted, sweat soaking my clothes despite the cool morning air. The wolves waited above me, their forms silhouetted against the sky.

Charles's wolf growled impatiently as I struggled up the incline. "Hurry up," he snapped through our weakened mind-link.

I pushed myself harder, my hand protectively covering my stomach. "I'm trying," I gasped.

That's when I saw Sara's wolf moving toward me, her amber eyes fixed on my midsection. Something in her gaze sent ice through my veins.

"Sara, no," I pleaded, backing away.

But she was already lunging forward, her powerful body slamming into mine with calculated precision. I felt myself falling backward, my arms windmilling frantically as I lost my balance.

"No!" I screamed as I tumbled down the rocky embankment.

My body bounced against sharp stones, each impact sending shockwaves of pain through me. I tried to curl protectively around my stomach, but a particularly vicious rock caught me squarely in the abdomen.

The pain was blinding, white-hot and all-consuming. I lay at the bottom of the slope, mud and blood mingling beneath me as I screamed Charles's name.

Through tear-blurred vision, I saw the pack above me, watching impassively as I writhed in agony. Charles's wolf disappeared from view, and moments later he appeared at my side in human form.

"Charles," I sobbed, reaching for him. "The baby... please help me..."

His face was a mask of irritation rather than concern. "What have you done now?" he demanded, looking at the disruption to the pack run rather than my injuries.

"I didn't—" I gasped, another wave of pain cutting off my words.

"It's just a run," he snapped. "How could you be so clumsy?"

Only then did his eyes register the blood pooling beneath me. His expression shifted, confusion replacing anger.

"The pup," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "Charles, our pup..."

In the medical room, Elena's face confirmed my worst fears before she could speak. "I'm sorry, Luna," she said softly, her eyes filled with tears. "The pup is lost."

Charles stood at the foot of the bed, his face unreadable. When he finally spoke, his words cut deeper than any physical wound.

"This is your fault," he said flatly. "Your weak body couldn't sustain our heir."

I stared at him in disbelief, too shocked to speak.

"If you had been stronger," he continued, his voice devoid of emotion, "this wouldn't have happened."

As he turned to leave, something inside me hardened – a small spark of rage amid the ocean of grief. This wasn't just the loss of our pup. This was the death of whatever remained of our bond.

A week passed in a haze of grief. I moved through the pack house like a ghost, hollow-eyed and empty. The loss of my pup had carved a void inside me that could never be filled. Luna, my wolf, had grown so faint I could barely feel her presence anymore.

I stood at the window of my small room, watching rain streak down the glass. Each drop seemed to mirror the tears I could no longer shed. My body had gone numb, my mind disconnected from the world around me.

*We need to leave,* Luna whispered, her voice barely audible. *Before they destroy us completely.*

"We will," I promised aloud, my fingers tracing patterns on the cold window pane. "Today."

I pulled my suitcase from beneath the bed and began packing the few belongings I still had. My hands trembled as I folded the clothes Sara hadn't yet "requisitioned" for herself. The door burst open without warning.

Charles stood there, his imposing frame filling the doorway. "What are you doing?"

I didn't look up from my task. "What does it look like? I'm leaving."

"You're not going anywhere." His voice was cold, controlled. "You're my mate."

The word 'mate' from his lips made me flinch. How could he call himself that after everything?

"Reject me," I said, finally meeting his gaze. "I want you to reject our bond."

Something flickered across his face—surprise, perhaps even panic. "You don't know what you're saying. You're still grieving."

"I know exactly what I'm saying." I straightened my spine, finding strength in my desperation. "Reject me, Charles, or I swear I'll tell my father everything."

His face paled. We both knew what would happen if Alpha Andrew discovered how his daughter had been treated. The Moonriver Pack would descend upon Silverclaw like a vengeful storm.

"You're mentally unstable," Charles said, his voice suddenly smooth, reasonable. "The grief has affected your judgment. I won't enable this behavior."

"Then let me go," I pleaded. "Just let me go home."

"No." His eyes hardened. "You're staying here where you belong."

Before I could respond, he turned and called for the guards. Two burly Deltas appeared instantly, as if they'd been waiting just outside.

"Take her to the Omega quarters," Charles ordered. "She needs rest and isolation for her own safety."

"Charles, no!" I backed away as the guards approached. "You can't do this!"

But he could. And he did.

The guards dragged me down winding stone stairs to the basement level of the pack house. The air grew damp and cold as we descended, the walls closing in around us. Finally, we reached a heavy metal door with a small window barred with silver.

"Inside," one guard grunted, shoving me forward.

I stumbled into the cell, my eyes adjusting slowly to the dim light. The walls were lined with silver—a precaution for containing rogue wolves or those who had committed crimes against the pack. Never had I imagined I would find myself imprisoned here.

Charles appeared in the doorway, his face impassive. From his pocket, he withdrew a thin silver collar.

"This is for your protection," he said, stepping into the cell. Before I could react, he clasped it around my neck. The silver burned against my skin, sending waves of nausea through me.

The collar tightened slightly, then settled into place. Immediately, I felt the effect—a heavy fog descending over my mind, cutting off the mental links that connected me to other wolves.

"You'll stay here until you're... stable again," Charles said, his voice distant through the fog. "No one can hear you now. No one can help you."

The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through my prison.

Days blurred into weeks. The cell remained damp and cold, the only light filtering through the tiny window set high in the wall. My meals consisted of scraps brought by a silent guard who wouldn't meet my eyes.

My body weakened rapidly. The Wolfsbane Joint Syndrome, combined with the silver collar and poor nutrition, left me barely able to stand. Luna had gone completely silent within me—not dead, but dormant, conserving what little strength remained.

"Brooke, darling," a voice cooed from outside my cell. "How are you enjoying your accommodations?"

Sara stood at the door, her face pressed against the bars, eyes gleaming with triumph.

"Come to gloat?" I managed, my voice raspy from disuse.

"I came to check on our future," she replied, gesturing to herself. "Charles has been quite attentive since your... confinement. The pack is already accepting me as their true Luna."

I leaned against the wall for support. "He'll never mark you."

"He doesn't need to." Sara smiled cruelly. "Once you're gone, I'll be all he has left. A tragic illness, so sad—the Luna couldn't recover from losing her pup."

The realization hit me like a physical blow. They weren't just imprisoning me—they were letting me die slowly, quietly, where no one would question it.

"You won't get away with this," I whispered.

Sara's laughter echoed down the corridor as she walked away. "I already have, little Alpha's daughter. I already have."

The storm outside mirrored the tempest in my soul. Rain lashed against the tiny window of my cell, each droplet a countdown to my end. I'd lost track of time in this silver-lined prison—days blending into weeks, my body growing weaker with each passing hour.

Luna stirred within me, her presence faint but persistent. *We're dying, Brooke.*

"I know," I whispered, my voice cracking from disuse. The silver collar around my neck burned against my skin, its constant suppression making it impossible to reach out through the mind-link.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated my cell, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. The lights flickered, then dimmed to a faint glow.

"Please," I murmured, not knowing who I was begging—the Moon Goddess, my father, or just the cruel twist of fate that had brought me here.

Another surge of electricity caused the lights to flash erratically. I felt a momentary loosening of the collar's grip on my mind—just a fraction, but enough.

*Now!* Luna urged with unexpected strength. *Brooke, try now!*

I closed my eyes, summoning every ounce of my remaining Alpha bloodline strength. My father's face floated before me—his proud smile, his unwavering protection. I thought of my mother's gentle hands, of home.

"ANDREW!" I screamed, not with my voice but with my mind, pushing through the silver fog with everything I had. "HELP ME!"

The words tore from my consciousness like shards of glass. I felt something snap inside me as the message hurtled across the distance to my brother.

"ANDREW, PLEASE... SILVERCLAW... DUNGEON..."

Darkness rushed in from the edges of my vision. The last thing I heard was the collar's electronic whine as it regained full power, crushing my brief moment of rebellion.

---

The Silverclaw border patrol never saw them coming.

Andrew's elite warriors moved like shadows through the forest, their black tactical gear blending with the night. My brother led from the front, his massive form radiating fury as he detected my scent—faint but unmistakable—mingled with pain and silver.

"Find her," he growled to his Beta. "I don't care if you tear this territory apart."

The border guards barely had time to raise the alarm before Moonriver's warriors crashed through their line. Andrew didn't bother with diplomacy or demands—he simply moved forward with deadly purpose, his aura so powerful that several Silverclaw wolves dropped to their knees without a fight.

Charles emerged from the pack house, his face contorted with rage. "You have no right to be here!"

Andrew didn't waste time with words. He lunged forward, his partial shift giving him claws and fangs. Charles barely had time to defend himself before Andrew's hand closed around his throat.

"Where is she?" Andrew's voice was deadly quiet.

"Who?" Charles choked out, playing dumb.

"My sister." Andrew's grip tightened. "The Luna you've imprisoned."

Confusion flickered across Charles's face before understanding dawned. "You can't just—"

Andrew threw him aside and stormed into the pack house, following my scent trail. His warriors efficiently subdued any resistance, their movements practiced and lethal.

The dungeon door was thick, reinforced with silver and steel. Andrew didn't hesitate—he simply tore it from its hinges with a roar that shook the entire building.

The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold.

I lay crumpled on the floor, my once-proud body reduced to skin and bone. The silver collar gleamed cruelly around my neck, my wrists raw from struggling against the chains that bound me to the wall.

"Brooke," he whispered, his voice breaking as he rushed to my side.

I stirred at the sound of his voice, my eyes fluttering open. "Andrew?"

His face was a mask of controlled fury as he gently removed the collar, his hands shaking with rage. "I've got you now. You're safe."

He turned to his Beta. "Bring Charles down here. Now."

---

Andrew dragged Charles by the throat into the cell, throwing him to the floor beside me. Charles's eyes widened as he took in my condition—the emaciation, the bruises, the hollow look in my eyes.

"This is what you've done," Andrew snarled, his claws extending. "This is my sister—my blood—treated worse than a rogue."

Charles tried to speak, but Andrew's grip tightened. "You don't deserve to breathe the same air as her."

I watched through half-closed eyes as my brother positioned his claws over Charles's heart. One thrust would end it all—the mate bond would snap, and Charles would die.

"Andrew," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He turned to me, his eyes softening. "What do you need, little one?"

"Take me home," I managed, each word a struggle. "Just take me home."

Something shifted in Andrew's expression—a calculation, a promise. He removed his claws from Charles's chest but didn't release his grip.

"You're lucky she still has compassion," he growled. "But make no mistake—this isn't over."

He lifted me gently in his arms, cradling me against his chest as if I weighed nothing. As he carried me past Charles, he paused.

"Enjoy what's left of your pack," he said coldly. "By tomorrow, the Moonriver alliance will have crushed your economy. Your borders will be closed, your trade routes blocked. You'll beg for mercy you'll never receive."

As Andrew carried me from the dungeon, I heard Charles's broken whisper behind us: "Brooke..."

But I didn't look back. The Silverclaw Pack—and the mate who had betrayed me—faded into darkness as my brother took me home.