"I'm going back today."

I pulled the leather strap of my satchel tight, knotting it against my ribs.

Morgana dropped a bundle of dried hemlock onto the wooden table. Her dark eyes pinned me to the floorboards.

"Elena, are you ready?"

"Of course. I've already died once," I said, meeting her stare without flinching. "I have nothing left to care about."

"They won't believe a word you say." Morgana stepped between me and the cabin door, arms crossed. "Look at yourself. To them you're either a ghost or a madwoman."

"Adrian knows my eyes," I countered. "He knows my voice."

"Adrian didn't even notice when another woman took your place three months ago!" Morgana's voice cracked through the small room. "Elara walked out of those woods wearing your dress. She took your place. And now today, the bells are ringing for their union."

The phantom burn flared beneath my collarbone, deep in the veins where the poison had settled.

Morgana didn't blink. "And yet, you think walking into the Moonridge packhouse will fix that?"

"I am the rightful daughter."

"You are a curse to them." Morgana stepped closer, voice dropping. "Have you forgotten why you never knew she existed until three months ago? The elders decided it before you were even born. Twins mean ruin. One bloodline, two wolves—destruction. That was the decree."

"Your mother lied to an entire council!" Morgana continued. She threw her hands up, pacing the narrow space between the hearth and the table. "She kept you in the light and sent your father Alexander into exile with the second pup. Alexander took Elara to the mud and rot of the Blackthorn pack, hiding in the shadows for twenty years while you grew up wrapped in silk."

"I didn't choose that," I said through clenched teeth. "I didn't even know Elara was alive until the night of my engagement."

"And Alexander didn't bring her to celebrate your happiness with Alpha Adrian," Morgana warned. "He brought her to replace you."

The memory hit like ice water.

Three months ago, the packhouse had been ablaze with torches. The scent of roasted venison and sweet wine had filled the courtyard. Adrian had held my waist, kissing my temple in front of three hundred wolves, announcing that the Moonridge pack would soon have its Luna.

After the ceremony ended, my father had appeared by the garden archway secretly, pulling me aside into the shadows. Behind him stood a girl.

My exact mirror. The same green irises. The same high cheekbones. The same soft dip at the collarbone.

I had been overjoyed. I had thrown my arms around her neck. When she asked me to walk with her into the pine grove to talk in private, I didn't hesitate for a second.

I thought we would become good family.

Instead, she shoved me into the briars. She forced the venom between my lips until my blood felt like liquid fire. My wolf thrashed, suffocating under the venom's grip, crying out for Adrian, for my mother, for anyone.

*You don't deserve this face,* Elara had hissed, pressing the silver edge of a hunting knife deep into my cheek. The metal hissed against my skin, smoking with raw agony. *You stole my life in the sunlight, Elena. Now die in the dirt.*

She stripped the coat from my shoulders, took my signet ring, and walked away, leaving me alone in the dirt.

If Morgana hadn't found me bleeding out, I would have rotted into the earth.

"I begged her," I whispered, the rage drying up my throat. "I lay in the mud and begged my own twin to spare me. She kicked dirt over my chest and walked toward my fiancé."

"Which is why you stay here," Morgana insisted, grabbing my wrist. Her grip was iron. "You are not ready. You cannot go back there today."

"Why?" I pulled against her grip, searching her face. "You've kept me hidden for three months. Every time I ask you about the pack, you change the subject. Why are you so terrified of me back?"

"Because there are things you do not understand."

"Explain them to me, then!"

"No." Morgana released my arm and turned her back, picking up her woven harvesting basket. "Drink some tea on the stove. I am going to the ridge to gather moss. Do not open the door. Do not step past the boundary stones."

She didn't wait for my answer. She pushed open the heavy wooden door, the morning mist swallowing her silhouette within seconds.

I stood in the silence of the cabin.

On the mantle, a polished copper plate reflected what was left of me. The long pink scar ran jagged from cheekbone to chin, puckering the skin that once matched the girl standing beside Adrian.

"They won't believe me," I muttered to the empty room. "Then I will make them listen."

I took the small hunting dagger from Morgana's cutting board and tucked it inside my boot. I threw my dark hood over my head, pulling the fabric forward to shadow the ruined side of my face.

The door creaked as I slipped outside. The cold forest air bit into my lungs, crisp with pine and damp earth.

I didn't take the western trail toward the ridge where Morgana hunted for roots. I broke into a dead run toward the eastern gorge.

My muscles burned after weeks of bed rest, and my wolf lay curled in the dark corner of my mind, too weak to lend me her speed. But anger gave my legs strength.

Every stride brought back the echo of Elara's voice.

*You don't deserve this.*

Branches whipped against my cloak. The trees thinned as the ground sloped upward, leading toward the northern boundary line of the Moonridge territory.

Within an hour, the scent of white pine and woodsmoke drifted down the valley.

The Moonridge scent. My home.

I reached the crest of the hill overlooking the eastern checkpoint. Through the gray haze of the canopy, the wooden archway of the border post stood tall, wrapped in long silk streamers of pristine white and silver.

Wedding ribbons.

They were decorating the gates for the Luna's ceremony.

I moved toward the timber fence, stepping out from the cover of the spruce trees. Twigs snapped under my boots.

A sharp metallic click cut through the fog.

"Halt!" a voice barked from the brush.

A Moonridge scout stepped onto the path, his crossbow leveled straight at my throat. His gray pack crest gleamed on his shoulder leather.

"The border is closed for the Alpha's wedding," the guard growled, squinting through the mist. "Identify yourself, rogue, or I put an iron bolt through your neck."

I lowered both hands, taking a slow step into the daylight, and reached up to peel back my wool hood.

The guard froze. The color drained entirely from his face, and the tip of his crossbow dropped an inch toward the dirt.

"Lady... Elena?" he stammered, staring at the jagged silver scar across my jaw. "How... you're inside the chapel."

"Stand aside," I told the guard, my voice level and hard.

His eyes darted between my scarred skin and the path behind me. "Lady Elena... what happened to you? Why are you out here? You're supposed to be in the bridal suite."

"Do not sound an alarm," I warned him. "Not a word through the mind-link."

"Yes, my lady," he whispered, stepping backward into the brush.

I slipped past the checkpoint and took the flagstone path toward the grand pavilion.

White lilies and winter ivy wound around every pillar. Silver silk draped from the high rafters, catching the pale afternoon sun. It was breathtaking. It was exact.

Six months ago, Adrian had sat across from me at the council table, spreading architectural parchment between our teacups.

*We will fill the colonnade with mountain lilies,* he had said, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. *Three hundred guests. The silver banners of Moonridge paired with your family crest. I want everyone to see you crowned.*

Now, the banners were there. The lilies bloomed in great stone urns.

Only the bride was counterfeit.

"Have you ever seen anything this lavish?" a voice murmured nearby.

Two high-ranking pack matrons stood by the marble fountain, sipping elderberry wine from crystal flutes.

"Never," the second woman answered, adjusting her fox-fur wrap. "Lady Elena has outdone herself. She looks magnificent today. A once-in-a-century beauty, truly."

"And to think her father returned just in time," the first added, eyes gleaming with gossip. "Alexander vanishing for twenty years, only to walk back through the gates on the night of her betrothal? It's a complete fairy tale."

I stopped beside the column, pulling the edge of my hood lower to hide the scar.

"A fairy tale," I muttered under my breath.

Bitterness coated my tongue like ash.

If Elara had buried my corpse six feet deeper, she would have lived this pristine life forever. She would have slept in Adrian's bed, worn my mother's emeralds, and ruled the pack that cast her out at birth.

Did Evelyn ever shed a tear when I vanished into the pines three months ago?

Did my mother search the woods until her hands bled? Or did Alexander whisper in her ear that the switch was made, and did she nod, accepting the spare daughter to keep the council quiet?

And Alexander—my father. Did he smile when he handed Adrian the hand of the daughter he raised in the dirt, pretending she was the one he abandoned?

The iron bells in the chapel tower struck three resonant tones.

The brass double doors of the sanctuary swung wide. Guests flooded inside, their laughter and velvet skirts brushing against the polished oak. I pressed into the crowd, sliding between two towering sentries who barely spared a glance at the veiled woman trailing behind the elders.

"Take your seats," an usher instructed, ushering wolves toward the carved pews. "The Alpha approaches the dais."

I did not sit. I moved to the shadow beneath the choir loft, keeping my spine glued to the cold stone.

"Silence!"

The voice boomed through the vaulted hall. Elder Corbin stood at the center of the raised marble altar, holding the ceremonial bonding blade aloft. The room plunged into absolute stillness.

The side door opened.

Adrian walked onto the dais.

The sight of him struck my chest. He wore the midnight-blue dress tunic of the Moonridge Alpha, silver embroidery winding along the high collar. His dark hair was brushed back, his posture rigid and commanding. But his mouth held a soft, expectant curve.

Then the heavy timber doors at the back groaned open again.

Elara stepped onto the carpet.

She wore the ivory silk gown I had sketched by candlelight during the autumn freeze. Seed pearls lined the bodice, shimmering under the chandeliers. Her dark brown hair was pinned high, revealing the smooth, unblemished curve of her throat and cheek.

My face. The face she stole while leaving mine in ribbons.

Alexander walked beside her, his hand resting proudly over hers. His broad shoulders were squared, his chin high, basking in the murmurs of approval sweeping through the chapel. Behind them walked Evelyn.

My mother was weeping.

She pressed a lace handkerchief to her trembling lips, tears catching the candlelight as they tracked down her pale cheeks. She looked so frail, so moved by the majesty of the union.

*Are those tears for your daughter, Mother?* I thought, my nails digging through my sleeves until they pierced the skin of my forearms. *Or are you weeping because the lie held together?*

Alexander guided Elara up the three marble steps.

"Alpha Adrian," Alexander announced, his deep voice carrying to the highest rafter. "I return to you the light of my house."

"She has always been my light," Adrian said.

He reached out, closing his fingers around Elara's. Elara looked up at him through her lashes, offering a shy, radiant smile that made the pack elders nod in deep approval.

She looked entirely at peace. Not a trace of the feral venom she spat into my throat three months ago.

Adrian led her to the altar, facing Elder Corbin.

"We gather under the full winter moon to seal the bloodline," Corbin intoned, unsheathing the silver bonding athame. The polished steel caught the glare of the torches. "Two souls, bound by law and wolf. Alpha Adrian of Moonridge, do you accept this she-wolf as your Luna, your mate, and your sovereign equal?"

"With my life and my territory," Adrian answered instantly.

He didn't hesitate. He didn't look twice at her wrists, or notice that her scent lacked the sharp cedar of my wolf.

Corbin turned to my twin. "And do you, Elena of the northern blood, pledge your strength to this pack until your flesh returns to the soil?"

"I do," Elara said, her voice clear, musical, and utterly false. "With all that I am."

Corbin lifted the blade to score Adrian's palm for the blood oath. Adrian held out his right hand, his eyes fixed on Elara with total devotion. Elara raised her palm to meet his, ready to press their bleeding skin together and complete the mating rite before the council.

I pushed away from the stone pillar.

"Wait."

The single word cut through the cavernous sanctuary like a whip crack.

The entire chapel went rigid.

Corbin froze, the edge of the blade hovering an inch from Adrian's skin.

Heads snapped toward the back of the aisle. The silence turned suffocating, thick with shock.

Adrian's brows slammed together in sudden fury. "Who interrupts the sacred rite?"

I walked out from the shadow of the choir loft, my boots pacing the center aisle, moving directly toward the altar. Every eye in the room tracked my veiled figure.

Alexander stepped forward defensively. "Guards! Remove this rogue!"

None of the guards moved. They stared at my frame, confused by the familiar cadence of my stride.

Up on the dais, Elara's posture shattered. The radiant Luna smile vanished from her lips. Her chest heaved, her green irises blowing wide as her gaze locked onto the fabric hiding my face. The bouquet in her left hand slipped, tumbling down the marble stairs.

Evelyn gasped from the front row, rising to her feet, clutching Alexander's arm.

I stopped ten paces from the dais, lifting my chin toward the man who swore he would love me until the end of the world.

"Adrian," I said, "Look at your bride."

Elder Corbin struck the base of his heavy oak staff against the marble floor.

The crack echoed like thunder off the vaulted stone ceiling.

"Who are you to interrupt such a sacred hour?" Corbin barked, his gray eyebrows knotting over venomous eyes. "Step back, or face the judgment of the council!"

I sank into a low, mocking curtsy, keeping my head bowed so the hood shadowed my face.

"I am a bride robbed of everything by a thief," I said, voice cutting through the stillness. "I was told Alpha Adrian is a just ruler. I came to demand his judgment."

Elara's breath caught in her throat. She gripped the folds of her silk skirt with shaking fingers, struggling to keep her composure.

"Whatever grievance you hold," Elara said, trying to steady her quavering tone, "I will hear it as your Luna after the ceremony concludes. Sentries, guide our guest to the waiting hall."

"No," I replied, straightening my spine. "What I have to say cannot wait until the blood oath is sealed."

Adrian stepped forward, his dark eyes blazing with territorial fury.

"This is my mating altar," he snarled. "No rogue walks into my temple to dictate terms on the most important day of my life. Leave this hall immediately."

His voice pressed against the air, heavy with authority.

Along with his anger came his scent—crushed cedar and mountain frost. It washed over me, sharp and painfully familiar.

Deep inside my bruised chest, my dormant wolf stirred, whimpering against her chains. The bond hummed faintly, cracked and bleeding, straining toward the man who had promised to protect me.

*Alpha,* I thought, staring at the dark cloth of his tunic. *If you knew who truly stood beside you, would you look at me with such hatred?*

Only three months ago, those same hands had cupped my face beneath the pines. He had sworn nothing in this world could ever tear us apart.

Now, his fury felt like a dagger twisting in my ribs. But I refused to break.

"Drive me out into the snow, Alpha," I said, meeting his gaze through the hood. "Throw me to your sentries. But I swear, by nightfall you will drown in your own regret."

Elara turned sharply toward the guards flanking the aisle.

"Seize her!" she screamed, her polished facade cracking into jagged desperation. "Drag this lunatic out into the courtyard!"

Two guards lunged forward, reaching for my cloak.

"Stand down!" Adrian roared.

The guards froze instantly, retreating a step.

Adrian's chest rose and fell in heavy intervals. He studied the outline of my figure, the tilt of my chin, his anger giving way to a sudden, unsettling stillness. A faint flicker of pity touched his eyes.

"A rogue who faces an Alpha's wrath on his mating day does not do so for sport," Adrian said, his tone softening just enough to quiet the crowd. "Whatever burden brought you here must be heavy. Speak."

A nervous hush swept the sanctuary.

I took two steps toward the altar, letting my voice carry to the highest rafters.

"Once, there were twin sisters," I began, keeping my gaze locked on the trembling girl in ivory silk. "Born of the same womb, sharing the same face. But a cruel decree separated them at birth. One sister grew in the sunlight, surrounded by love and honor. The other was dragged into the dirt, rotting with bitter jealousy."

Murmurs rippled through the pews. Guests leaned forward, exchanging uneasy glances.

"On the night the first sister celebrated her betrothal," I continued, "the second sister returned from the dark. She feigned affection. She wept tears of joy. And then she lured the first sister into the black woods."

Elara swayed on her feet, the color draining entirely from her lips.

"She poured poison down her twin's throat," I said, my words dropping like iron weights into the silence. "She pinned her in the briars, carved a silver blade across her cheek to ruin her beauty, and left her to die in the mud. Then, the murderous sister washed the blood from her hands, put on her twin's gown, slipped her ring onto her own finger, and walked into the arms of the unsuspecting groom."

Gasps erupted across the pews.

"How monstrous," an elder's wife whispered loudly.

"Who could do such a thing to their own blood?" another voice muttered.

I glanced toward the front row.

My mother, Evelyn, had both hands pressed against her mouth. Tears streamed over her knuckles, her body shaking with silent, ragged sobs. Beside her, Alexander stood rigid as granite, his jaw locked, his eyes narrowed in cold calculation.

Then I looked at Adrian.

The blood had drained from his face. His lips parted, his gaze darting from my shrouded form to the shivering woman beside him. A terrible realization flickered behind his eyes.

Without a word, Adrian reached down and forcefully pried Elara's clinging fingers off his forearm.

"Adrian, please!" Elara cried, clutching at his sleeve. "She is spinning fairy tales to ruin our day!"

Adrian ignored her. His eyes remained fixed on me. "Who are you?"

I reached up to my brow, pinched the silver pin, and pulled the mourning veil away.

The chapel erupted into chaos.

Chairs scraped against the stone floor as dozens of wolves leaped to their feet. Shocked shouts echoed from every corner of the room.

"By the moon..."

"Her face! She looks just like Lady Elena!"

The jagged scar ran pink and puckered from my cheekbone to my jawline, a brutal ruin across the exact mirror of the bride's features.

Adrian recoiled as if burned. He shoved Elara away with enough force to send her stumbling against the altar railing.

"What is this?" Adrian demanded, his voice cracking with fury. He rounded on Elara, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Who are you? Why does she share your exact face?"

"Adrian, no! Listen to me!" Elara sobbed, sinking to her knees on the marble stairs. "She is a witch! She used dark magic to steal my likeness!"

Before Adrian could answer, Alexander stepped up onto the dais.

"Alpha, do not let this ghost deceive you!" Alexander shouted, planting himself firmly between Adrian and Elara. "This woman is an impostor. She carries none of my daughter's scent!"

The room fell dead silent.

Elara seized the opening. She scrambled forward, looking up at Adrian with tears streaming down her unblemished cheeks.

"Adrian, look at me," she pleaded, reaching toward his boots. "Does our mate bond mean nothing to you? Does my scent lie? Smell the pine! Smell the winter moss! It has never changed. I have shared your bed for three months—how could I be anyone else?"

My entire body went cold.

*Scent?*

The realization struck me like a physical blow. The venom Elara had forced down my throat three months ago hadn't just crippled my wolf—it had burned away my scent glands. To any wolf in this room, I smelled of nothing more than dead ash and forest mud.

"You claim to be the daughter of this pack?" Alexander sneered, pointing a calloused finger straight at my chest. "You claim to be my lost child? Where is your proof?"

I stood frozen in the center of the aisle, the eyes of three hundred wolves pressing down upon me like lead.

Desperation clawed at my throat. I turned my gaze toward the woman who gave me life.

"Mother," I choked out, taking a step toward the front pew. "Look at my eyes. You know me. Tell them."

Evelyn stared at me. Her lips trembled, parting as if to scream my name, but Alexander shot her a venomous glare from the dais.

Evelyn shrank back into her seat, burying her face in her lace handkerchief, choking on her own silence.

She wasn't going to save me.

Elara rose slowly to her feet, a wicked, triumphant gleam flashing behind her tear-streaked eyes.

"She has no proof," Elara declared, turning to face the assembled pack. "She is a rogue sent to desecrate this union. Guards, kill her where she stands!"

Two warriors drew their silver swords, stepping into the aisle to block my retreat.

The cold walls of the chapel closed in around me. My heart hammered against my ribs, empty, helpless, and completely alone.

Then, the heavy brass doors at the back of the sanctuary banged open.

"Proof?"

A woman's voice cut through the hall, sharp and clear.

"Of course there is proof!"