Two weeks passed in a blur of humiliation and aching silence. The pregnancy test remained hidden in my pocket, its edges softened from my constant touching, like a talisman I couldn't bear to part with. Each morning, I felt the tiny life inside me, a secret rebellion against the growing coldness of the pack house.

I stood at the window of my new quarters in the East Wing, watching rain streak down the glass. The guest room felt more like a prison cell than a home—bare walls, a narrow bed, and a window that faced away from the forest view I'd once loved.

"Diana." Wilder's voice cut through the silence as he appeared in the doorway. He didn't bother knocking anymore. "There's been a complaint."

I turned slowly, one hand instinctively moving to my stomach. "What now?"

"Kaylee says the staff creates too much noise near the Alpha house." His golden eyes were flat, emotionless. "It's disturbing her wolf."

Of course it was. Everything disturbed Kaylee's supposedly fragile wolf these days.

"So?" I asked, though I already knew what was coming.

"So I'm reassigning the household staff to the outer perimeter." He straightened his shoulders, the Alpha authority radiating from him like a physical force. "You'll be taking over their duties."

The words hit me like a slap. "I'm still Luna," I reminded him, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You're a chosen mate," he corrected coldly. "And the pack needs to see an example of humility."

Humility. The word tasted bitter on my tongue.

An hour later, I found myself on my hands and knees in the meeting hall, scrubbing at the stone floors with a coarse brush. The soap burned my skin, and the scent of bleach made my stomach churn—a dangerous sensation for someone in my condition.

"Look at her," a female voice whispered from the doorway. "The great Diana Graham, on her knees where she belongs."

I didn't look up. I didn't need to know who it was. The pack's whispers followed me everywhere now, a constant reminder of how far I'd fallen.

"The Alpha says she's been lying about being Luna material," another voice added. "Says she's too weak to carry an Alpha's pup."

My hand froze mid-scrub. They knew. Or at least, they suspected.

I forced myself to continue, ignoring the stabbing pain in my lower back. The pup was all I had left now—my secret strength, my reason to endure.

---

"The pack run will commence in ten minutes," Wilder announced that evening, his voice echoing through the pack house. "Everyone will attend."

I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, where I'd been preparing dinner—another task that had once belonged to someone else.

"Wilder," I said quietly, "perhaps I should stay behind tonight."

His eyes narrowed. "Is this another attempt to gain special treatment?"

"No, I just—"

"Enough." His Alpha Tone vibrated through the air. "Your constant sulking is becoming a disruption. You will join the run and prove you're still part of this pack."

Outside, the sky had darkened to an ominous gray. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall.

We gathered at the edge of the forest, pack members shifting restlessly as the rain intensified. I stood apart, my body feeling heavier than usual, the secret weight of my pregnancy making each movement more difficult.

Wilder shifted first, his magnificent golden wolf form emerging in a fluid motion that still took my breath away despite everything. The others followed suit, until only I remained in human form, watching them disappear into the trees.

I shifted slowly, painfully, my wolf form feeling awkward and unbalanced. Something was wrong—I could feel it in the way my body moved, in the strange weakness that seemed to radiate from my core.

The rain fell harder as I followed the pack into the forest, already lagging behind. The mud sucked at my paws, making each step an effort. Above, thunder crashed like the Moon Goddess's anger made manifest.

I was so focused on keeping my footing that I didn't notice Wilder circling back until he was directly in front of me, his golden eyes gleaming with suspicion.

"You're deliberately holding back," he growled, his mind-link cutting into my thoughts. "Stop this pathetic display."

"I'm not—" I tried to respond, but a sudden, sharp pain cut through my abdomen.

I stumbled, nearly falling. Another pain, stronger this time.

"Wilder," I gasped, my wolf form trembling. "Something's wrong."

He circled me slowly, his hackles raised. "Get up," he commanded, his Alpha Tone forcing my body to respond despite the agony spreading through me.

As I struggled to my feet, I felt it—a warm wetness between my legs, the metallic scent of blood mixing with the rain and mud.

"No," I whispered, watching crimson stain the ground beneath me. "Please, no."

Wilder's nostrils flared as he caught the scent. For a moment, something like horror flashed across his face.

"Diana..." he began, taking a step toward me.

Then his head snapped up, his eyes going distant as Kaylee's mind-link pulled him away.

"Wilder!" I cried out desperately, but he was already turning, already running back toward the pack house where Kaylee waited.

I collapsed onto the muddy ground, alone in the storm, as my body betrayed me and my world went dark.

I woke to the sterile scent of antiseptic and the steady beep of monitors. The pack infirmary's white walls seemed to close in around me as consciousness returned in painful increments. My body felt hollow—not just from the physical loss, but from something deeper, more profound.

My hand moved instinctively to my stomach, finding it flat and empty. The tiny life I'd harbored was gone, washed away in the storm like my dreams.

"The sedative is wearing off," a voice noted clinically. The pack healer avoided my eyes as she checked my vitals. "You need to rest."

I turned my face toward the window, watching raindrops trace patterns down the glass. Each drop represented something I could no longer hold onto.

The door opened with a soft click. Wilder's scent—once so comforting—now made my wolf recoil inside me.

"You're awake," he stated flatly, remaining near the door. He wouldn't come closer, wouldn't touch me.

I said nothing, couldn't speak through the knot in my throat.

"Elder Thorne visited while you were unconscious." Wilder's voice was businesslike, devoid of the tenderness that once made me feel safe. "He believes the Moon Goddess has spoken."

Finally, he looked at me—not in the eyes, but at some point above my head.

"The miscarriage is a sign that our union was... cursed." He swallowed hard. "A chosen bond that went against the Goddess's plan."

I closed my eyes, unable to bear the emptiness in his gaze.

"Kaylee is waiting," he added, glancing at his watch. "We're attending the Northern Pack's gala tonight."

Of course they were. Even now, even after this loss, Kaylee came first.

Wilder reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of pills. He placed it on the bedside table without touching me.

"For the pain," he explained, already turning to leave. "The healer says you'll need them."

Then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.

I stared at the bottle, at the cold white pills inside. They could ease physical pain, but what about the ache spreading through my chest?

---

A month passed in a blur of servitude and isolation. I moved through the pack house like a ghost, invisible to most, despised by others.

The dining hall buzzed with activity as I cleared plates from the midday meal. My hands moved mechanically, my mind elsewhere.

A sharp cry cut through the chatter.

"Help! Someone help me!"

All eyes turned to Kaylee, who had collapsed onto the floor, her body convulsing violently. Foam bubbled from her lips as she thrashed against the polished wood.

"She's been poisoned!" someone shouted.

Wilder was at her side instantly, cradling her head in his lap. "What happened?" he demanded, his voice thick with panic.

"Check her food," Elder Thorne suggested, his ancient eyes narrowing with suspicion.

They did. And somehow—impossibly—a vial of wolfsbane was discovered tucked into my apron pocket.

"I didn't—" I began, but Wilder's roar cut me off.

He was on his feet in an instant, his hand closing around my throat as he lifted me off the ground.

"You dare?" he snarled, his eyes flashing gold with rage. "You dare try to kill my mate?"

I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak to defend myself. Black spots danced before my eyes as his grip tightened.

"Wilder," someone cautioned, "you'll kill her."

He released me suddenly, letting me crumple to the floor. I gasped for air, clutching at my throat.

"Take her to the dungeon," he ordered, his voice cold with disgust. "She's no longer worthy of pack status."

---

The dungeon cells were damp and cold, the walls lined with silver that burned my skin even through my clothes. I huddled in the corner, trying to escape its effects.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. I looked up, expecting Wilder or perhaps Elder Thorne.

Instead, Kaylee stood before my cell, her perfect face illuminated by the dim light.

"Poor Diana," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "All alone in the dark."

"How did you plant it?" I asked quietly. "The wolfsbane."

She laughed then, the sound like breaking glass. "So easy. You never even noticed."

"It was you," I whispered.

"Of course it was me." She leaned closer, dropping all pretense. "I bought it from a rogue trader. Paid him extra to make it look like something a pack healer would use."

My stomach turned as she described how she'd orchestrated everything—the seizure, the discovery, my downfall.

"That half-breed mistake of a pup was never meant to be born," she hissed, her beautiful face twisting with malice. "The Moon Goddess knew it. I merely helped her will along."

"I never hurt you," I said, my voice breaking.

Kaylee laughed again, running her fingers through her perfect hair. "You existed. That was enough."

She pulled a small vial from her pocket—identical to the one found in my apron.

"Witch's herbs," she explained casually. "Cost me a fortune, but worth every penny. They create the perfect fated mate scent."

"Wilder will figure it out eventually," I said.

Kaylee's smile widened. "He won't. He's too desperate for validation, too eager to believe in his divine right as Alpha." She leaned closer to the bars. "And if he ever does suspect, I'll just cry pretty tears and remind him how the Moon Goddess blessed our union."

As she turned to leave, she paused. "Enjoy the dungeon, Diana. It's where you belong—with the other unwanted things."

The dungeon door creaked open, flooding the damp cell with harsh light. I shielded my eyes, wincing at the sudden brightness after days in darkness.

"Diana." Wilder's voice was flat, emotionless. "Come with me."

I staggered to my feet, my legs weak from silver exposure. The burns on my skin had barely begun to heal, leaving angry red welts where the metal had touched me.

"Why?" I asked, my voice raspy from disuse.

He didn't answer, just gripped my arm and pulled me from the cell. His touch, once so comforting, now made my skin crawl.

We walked in silence through the pack house corridors. Pack members stopped to stare, their eyes filled with a mixture of pity and disgust. I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, unable to bear their judgment.

Wilder's office door closed behind us with a soft click. The room looked different somehow—colder, more austere. Kaylee's scent lingered in the air, that cloying floral perfume that seemed to follow her everywhere.

"Sit," Wilder commanded, gesturing to a chair across from his desk.

I remained standing. "If this is about the wolfsbane—"

"It's not." He ran a hand through his hair, looking haggard. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his normally immaculate appearance had deteriorated. "It's about Kaylee."

Of course it was.

"The pack healer has diagnosed her condition," he continued, his voice clinical. "It's a genetic fading sickness. Her wolf is dying."

I blinked in surprise. That was impossible. Kaylee's wolf had seemed strong enough when she'd orchestrated my downfall.

"There's only one cure," Wilder said, his golden eyes finally meeting mine. "A bone marrow transplant from a compatible bloodline."

Something cold settled in my stomach as I realized where this was heading.

"You need me to conceive a pup," I whispered.

He nodded once, his expression unflinching. "The healer says the stem cells from a fetus—or a newborn—would be perfect for the transplant."

The room seemed to tilt beneath me. "You want me to bear a child just to harvest its cells?"

"I want you to do your duty," he replied coldly. "To the pack. To me."

"My duty?" The words tasted bitter on my tongue. "What about your duty to me? To our bond?"

"Our bond was a mistake." He looked away, his jaw tightening. "The Moon Goddess has made that clear."

I laughed then, a hollow sound that echoed in the empty room. "And if I refuse?"

His eyes hardened. "You won't."

The threat hung between us, unspoken but clear. He would take what he needed, one way or another.

---

That night, I sat alone in my room—no longer the Luna suite, just a small chamber in the servants' wing. The lock clicked softly as I turned it from the inside.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman who looked back at me. Hollow eyes, gaunt cheeks, the shadow of bruises still visible on my skin.

Wilder would come for me tomorrow. I knew it with bone-deep certainty. He would take what he needed, regardless of my consent.

"There's no escape," I whispered to my reflection.

Unless...

My eyes fell on the silver mirror frame, ornate and heavy. With trembling hands, I lifted it from the wall.

"I'm sorry," I murmured to my wolf, feeling her whimper inside me.

Then, with all my strength, I smashed the mirror against the edge of the dresser. Glass shattered, scattering across the floor like diamonds.

I picked up a large shard, its edge jagged and deadly. Silver, but I had no choice.

From my pocket, I pulled out a leather belt and bit down hard on it. The taste of leather filled my mouth as I positioned the glass shard against my neck.

"Just like this," I whispered, pressing harder.

The pain was blinding, immediate and overwhelming. Blood poured down my chest as I carefully—methodically—destroyed the scent glands that marked me as a werewolf.

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with blood. The leather belt muffled my screams as I worked, destroying the chemical link that allowed werewolves to track one another.

When it was done, I collapsed onto the floor, bleeding heavily but determined.

---

The forest blurred around me as I ran, my feet slipping on wet leaves and mud. Blood still seeped from my neck wound, but the mud I'd rubbed into it would mask my scent.

Blackwood Cliffs loomed ahead, their sheer faces gleaming in the moonlight. Below, the river roared, its waters black and inviting.

Behind me, howls echoed through the trees. Wilder's trackers had found my trail despite my best efforts.

I reached the edge just as a massive golden wolf burst through the tree line. Wilder's wolf form was magnificent even now—powerful muscles rippling beneath golden fur, eyes blazing with panic and rage.

He shifted instantly, his human form emerging in a fluid motion.

"Diana!" he roared, lunging toward me. "Don't you dare!"

I looked into his eyes—those golden eyes I'd once loved beyond reason—and felt nothing but emptiness.

"I reject you," I whispered, the words carrying on the wind.

Then I turned and flung myself backward into the void.

The last thing I heard was Wilder's howl of agony as our bond snapped like a thread cut by fate's scissors.