The tavern buzzed with late-night energy, glasses clinking and voices rising as pack members unwound after a long day. I balanced a tray of drinks, my fingers calloused from years of moonweaving and tavern work, moving carefully between tables. The familiar ache in my chest had been growing stronger lately, but I pushed it aside. There was work to be done.

"Another round for table four," Mira called from behind the bar, her eyes sympathetic as they always were when she looked at me. She was the only one who noticed how I sometimes paused mid-step, pressing a hand to my chest as if trying to hold something inside.

"On it," I murmured, forcing a smile.

The private corner booth was occupied tonight—Duke and his friends, their voices carrying just enough for me to catch fragments as I approached with their order.

"—can't believe you've kept her in the dark this long," someone said, laughing.

I froze, the tray trembling slightly in my hands. Duke's voice cut through the noise, clear and cruel in a way I'd never heard before.

"What does it matter? She's nothing but a wolfless burden anyway." His words sliced through me like silver blades. "Three years she's been working here, paying off my debts while I court Dallas. And she never suspected a thing."

The glass in my hand nearly slipped. Wolfless burden. Three years of sacrifice, of missing my Coming of Age ceremony because he couldn't be bothered to attend, of working double shifts to help pay his pack debts—all while he was secretly engaged to Dallas Bennett from the Goldcrest Pack.

"She actually thinks I'm going to mark her someday," Duke continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "As if I'd choose an Omega with no wolf over Dallas. The alliance with Goldcrest will secure my Alpha inheritance."

I must have made some sound, some small gasp that carried over their laughter. Duke's head snapped up, his eyes meeting mine across the tavern. For one heartbeat, something flickered there—not remorse, but annoyance at being overheard.

Then Dallas's hand slid possessively over his arm, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his jacket. "So when do we announce it officially?"

"Soon," Duke promised, his attention already back on her. "Once I figure out how to discard my little Omega without looking like a complete jerk to the pack."

The tray slipped from my fingers, glasses shattering on the floor. The crash echoed through the tavern, drawing all eyes. I dropped to my knees to clean it up, grateful for the mess that hid my trembling hands and the single tear that escaped down my cheek.

"Sorry," I whispered to no one in particular.

---

The tavern finally closed at two in the morning. I stayed behind to clean up, my movements mechanical as I swept glass shards into a dustpan.

The pain hit without warning—a sharp, tearing sensation in my chest that stole my breath. I clutched the edge of the bar, my knuckles white as I fought to stay upright.

"Luna," I gasped internally, reaching for my wolf spirit. "Luna, please..."

But the connection felt thinner than ever, like trying to grasp smoke. My wolf's presence flickered weakly, then faded again.

I collapsed behind the bar, my body curling into itself as the pain radiated outward. Each breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. This episode was worse than any before—the wolf sickness was progressing faster now.

"It's okay," I whispered to myself, though no one was there to hear. "It's okay."

I forced myself up, gripping the counter until my vision cleared. There was still work to finish. The broken glasses needed to be disposed of properly, the floors mopped. Duke would be wondering where I was.

Duke. The name felt like ash in my mouth now.

---

Morning light filtered through the thin curtains of our shared den when I finally returned. I'd managed to hide my condition from everyone, just as I always did. The pain had subsided to a dull ache, but the hollow feeling inside me had nothing to do with my illness.

I stopped short at the entrance. Something was different.

On our small table sat an elaborate bouquet of silver roses—Dallas's favorite. Next to it, a small velvet box and several envelopes addressed in flowing script to "My Dearest Dallas."

My fingers trembled as I picked up one of the letters, unable to stop myself from reading Duke's words to another woman.

"My heart beats only for you," he wrote. "Soon the entire pack will know you as my chosen Luna."

Beneath the letters lay detailed plans for their engagement announcement—date, venue, guest list. And tucked between the pages, a handwritten note that made my blood run cold.

"Lila's devotion has been quite useful," it read in Duke's familiar scrawl. "Three years of free labor while I secured the real prize. No one will question my rise to Alpha with this alliance."

The letters slipped from my numb fingers, scattering across the floor like the broken pieces of my heart. Three years of my life, my dreams, my health—all sacrificed for a man who saw me as nothing more than a convenient tool.

And now, as my wolf spirit faded day by day, I was truly alone.

The full moon hung heavy in the night sky, casting silver light across the ceremonial clearing. My chest ached with a hollow pain as I stood among the other servants, watching pack members gather for the monthly moon ceremony. The pain had been growing worse each day, my connection to Luna—my wolf spirit—flickering like a candle in the wind.

"Attention!" Alpha Marcus's voice boomed across the clearing. "Tonight we honor the Moon Goddess and seek her blessing for our pack's prosperity."

I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to steady my breathing as I prepared to serve the ceremonial wine. My fingers trembled slightly—a symptom of my worsening condition that I desperately tried to hide.

Duke entered the ceremonial circle, his tall figure commanding attention. But it wasn't his presence that made my heart stutter—it was Dallas walking beside him, her hand possessively looped through his arm. She wore a silver gown that caught the moonlight, her blonde hair cascading down her back in perfect waves.

"Tonight," Alpha Marcus continued, "we celebrate not only the full moon but also the strength of our pack bonds."

I moved forward with the other servers, carrying trays of ceremonial wine. As I approached Duke's table, Dallas's eyes met mine, a smirk playing on her perfectly painted lips.

"Ah, our little Omega server," she purred, loud enough for nearby tables to hear. "How convenient to have someone so... devoted to service."

Duke didn't even glance my way as I set down his wine. Instead, he pulled out the chair beside him—the place of honor traditionally reserved for a mate—and gestured for Dallas to sit.

"Aren't you going to serve us properly?" Dallas asked, her voice honey-sweet with poison underneath. "We're quite thirsty after all this standing."

I poured their wine, my hands shaking slightly. Dallas deliberately bumped my arm as I leaned forward, causing me to stumble. The wine sloshed dangerously close to the rim.

"Careful," she hissed. "Though I suppose accidents happen when one is so... beneath notice."

Duke finally looked at me, his expression hardening. "Can't you do anything right?" he snapped, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "This is a sacred ceremony, not your personal clumsy showcase."

Heat rushed to my face as several pack members turned to stare. I lowered my eyes, murmuring apologies as I steadied the tray.

"Perhaps," Dallas suggested, her fingers trailing possessively up Duke's arm, "she should be reminded of her place more often."

---

Alpha Marcus raised his hands for silence, his powerful presence commanding immediate attention.

"Tonight marks a new chapter for our pack," he announced, his voice carrying across the now-hushed clearing. "I present to you the future Alpha pair of Silvermoon Pack—my son, Duke Harris, and his chosen mate, Dallas Bennett of the Goldcrest Pack!"

The crowd erupted in cheers and howls of approval. My tray slipped from my fingers, clattering to the ground as I stumbled backward.

"Through this union," Alpha Marcus continued, "our packs will form an unbreakable alliance. The future of Silvermoon is secure!"

Duke stood, pulling Dallas to her feet beside him. From his pocket, he produced a golden bracelet studded with moonstones—the very bracelet I had admired in the market months ago, saving every spare coin in hopes that one day...

"This symbol of our bond will mark our commitment," Duke announced, sliding the bracelet onto Dallas's wrist.

My vision blurred as memories flooded back—me showing Duke the bracelet in the market window, him promising that one day, when his position was secure...

"You like it?" Dallas called out to the crowd, extending her arm to display the glittering band. "Duke has such exquisite taste in gifts for those who matter."

The crowd cheered again as she kissed him deeply, her eyes finding mine over his shoulder, triumphant.

I backed away, retreating to the servants' area as my heart shattered into pieces too small to ever reassemble.

---

In the kitchen, away from the celebration, I found a bottle of clear liquid tucked behind the storage shelves. The label read "Wolfsbane Extract—Poison" in faded letters.

"Wolfsbane," I whispered, uncorking the bottle. "They say it eases the pain of a dying wolf spirit."

My hands shook as I raised the bottle to my lips. One drink—perhaps it would end this suffering. One drink to silence the hollow ache in my chest.

I tilted my head back and swallowed.

Fire immediately spread through my veins, burning from my throat to my stomach. I doubled over, clutching the edge of the counter as violent convulsions wracked my body.

"Lila?" Mira's concerned voice seemed to come from far away. "What's wrong?"

I tried to answer, but only a wet cough escaped my lips—blood spattering across the kitchen floor.

Through the door to the main hall, I could see Duke and Dallas accepting congratulations, his arm proudly around her waist as they moved among the celebrating pack members.

He never looked back. Not once.

More blood rose in my throat, metallic and warm. As darkness edged my vision, I wondered if this was how it would end—alone in a kitchen while my mate celebrated his future with another.

The last thing I saw before collapsing was Dallas's triumphant smile as she raised her wrist, the golden bracelet catching the light of the full moon.

The world swam in and out of focus as I drifted in and out of consciousness. My body felt like it was burning from the inside out, the wolfsbane's poison spreading through my veins like liquid fire. I could hear voices around me, urgent and worried, but they seemed to come from very far away.

"She's been poisoned!" Someone's hands were on me, gentle but firm. "Wolfsbane extract... she must have ingested at least an ounce."

I forced my eyes open to see Healer Sage Rivers leaning over me, her usually calm face twisted with concern. We were in the small healing room behind the tavern, the scent of medicinal herbs heavy in the air.

"Why?" Sage whispered, her eyes meeting mine. "Why would you do this to yourself, Lila?"

I couldn't answer. Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass, and the hollow ache in my chest where Luna—my wolf spirit—should be felt emptier than ever.

Sage worked quickly, her hands moving with practiced precision as she mixed a counteragent. "This will help neutralize the poison," she explained, "but you need to stay still."

As she worked, her expression changed. Her hands paused over my chest, her eyes widening. "Lila... your wolf spirit..."

"Don't," I whispered, reaching for her hand. "Please."

She understood immediately. Healer-patient confidentiality was sacred among werewolves. If I didn't give permission, she couldn't tell anyone about my condition.

"This isn't just wolfsbane," Sage said softly, her voice breaking. "You're suffering from wolf sickness. Your connection to Luna is... fading."

I nodded slightly, tears welling in my eyes.

"How long?" Sage asked.

"Three years," I admitted. "Since I met Duke."

Sage's face crumpled with horror. "Three years? And you've been working yourself to exhaustion for him? Do you know what this means? The sickness is terminal, Lila. Without your wolf, you'll..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. We both knew what happened when a werewolf lost their inner wolf.

"I can't tell anyone," Sage whispered, her frustration evident. "Not without your permission. But Duke should know—he's your mate."

"He's not," I said, the words like acid on my tongue. "Not anymore."

---

The next day, I was barely recovered when the door to my modest den burst open without warning. Dallas strode in like she owned the place, followed by three other she-wolves from the Goldcrest Pack.

"Oh my," Dallas said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she surveyed my small living space. "How quaint."

I rose from my bed, still weak from the wolfsbane poisoning. "What are you doing here?"

"Just being neighborly," Dallas replied, running her manicured fingers over the simple furniture I'd built myself. "After all, we're practically family now."

Her friends snickered as they spread out through my den, picking up and examining my belongings.

"These little trinkets," one of them said, holding up a small moonweaving charm I'd made. "How... primitive."

Dallas moved to my crafting table where Elena's silver needles gleamed in the afternoon light. "And these are your... what did Duke call them? 'Useless hobbies'?"

My heart clenched as she picked up one of Elena's sacred needles, the one my mentor had used for nearly eighty years.

"That's very old," I said quietly. "Please be careful."

"Oh?" Dallas examined it with exaggerated interest before letting it slip from her fingers. It clattered to the floor, the delicate silver bending at an odd angle.

I dropped to my knees, carefully picking it up. "It's bent," I whispered, my voice catching as I tried to straighten it.

"Oops," Dallas said with a laugh. "Guess the old ways aren't as strong as they used to be."

---

The door opened again, and Duke strode in, his expression darkening when he saw Dallas and her friends.

"What's going on here?" he demanded.

Dallas immediately went to him, wrapping herself around his arm. "Just getting acquainted with our little Omega," she purred. "Isn't that right, girls?"

Duke's gaze swept over my bent form as I struggled with the damaged needle. "Lila, what are you doing?"

Before I could answer, Dallas interrupted. "Duke, darling, we need to talk about your... past obligations."

She gestured to the closet where I kept the ceremonial clothes I'd spent months crafting for Duke—traditional moonweaving pieces made with love and hope.

"What about them?" Duke asked, his tone wary.

"Are you still planning to wear them?" Dallas asked, her voice hardening. "An Alpha can't be associated with... this." She waved dismissively at my work.

Duke hesitated for only a moment before marching to the closet. He pulled out the carefully folded garments—the ceremonial jacket embroidered with silver thread, the pants reinforced with moon-blessed leather.

"These are inappropriate for an Alpha," he declared, and before I could stop him, he threw them into the fireplace.

The flames leapt up, consuming months of my work in seconds.

"No!" I cried, lunging forward too late.

Dallas smiled triumphantly as she reached for Elena's remaining tools. "These will make excellent compensation," she said, tucking them into her bag. "For all the time Duke wasted on you."

I watched helplessly as she stole the last physical connection I had to my mentor, to my craft, to the life I'd built before everything fell apart.