The storm outside mirrored the chaos in my heart as I watched Gamma Vance Sterling present his "evidence" to the council. His eyes gleamed with barely concealed triumph as he held up a worn cloak.

"This was found in Elder Hunter's quarters," he announced, his voice carrying through the council chamber. "It reeks of Rogue pheromones."

My father—the man who had trained generations of warriors, including Ryland himself—stood tall despite the accusations. His weathered face remained impassive, but I could see the slight tremor in his hands. Silver burns from his last encounter with rogue wolves had left permanent scars.

"I would never betray this pack," my father stated, his voice steady. "The cloak is mine, yes, but it was planted."

I stepped forward, my Luna aura flaring. "This is absurd. My father has served this pack for decades—"

"Silence," Ryland commanded, not even glancing my way.

The Alpha tone hit me like a physical blow. I felt my wolf whimper inside me as I took an involuntary step back. Three years of marriage, and he still used that tone on me like I was nothing more than an unruly Delta.

Ryland's phone buzzed. His eyes flickered to the screen, and I caught a glimpse of Everly's name before he tucked it away. The council members shifted uncomfortably as another crash of thunder shook the windows.

"Until we investigate further," Ryland declared, "Elder Hunter will be detained in the holding cells."

"Ryland," I whispered urgently, grabbing his arm. "Those cells are lined with silver. You know what that will do to him."

He shook me off without meeting my eyes. "Protocol must be followed, Luna. This is pack business."

Two Deltas moved to escort my father away. I watched helplessly as they led him toward the dungeon, his proud shoulders now slightly hunched.

---

The rain pounded against my skin as I chased after Ryland through the pack house hallways. Thunder crashed overhead, each sound amplifying my desperation.

"Ryland, please!" I called out, my voice barely audible above the storm. "You can review the evidence tonight! One night in those cells could kill him!"

My mate stopped abruptly, turning to face me. Water dripped from his dark hair onto his face, but his expression remained cold.

"He's tougher than you think," he said dismissively, checking his phone again. The blue light illuminated his features, casting shadows that made him look like a stranger.

"He's your mentor," I argued, stepping closer. "He trained you when no one else would. How can you do this?"

"This isn't personal," Ryland replied, but his eyes darted toward the Omega quarters. "It's pack protocol."

"Then use your Alpha authority to override protocol!" My voice cracked with emotion. "You know something isn't right about this."

He sighed impatiently. "I have an emergency to attend to."

"What emergency could possibly be more important than this?" I demanded.

"The Omega quarters reported a disturbance," he said vaguely. "I need to check it out."

Before I could respond, he was gone, disappearing into the rain. I stood frozen, water streaming down my face—from rain or tears, I couldn't tell anymore.

---

Something wasn't right. The "emergency" at the Omega quarters felt too convenient. Following a hunch, I tracked Ryland's scent through the storm.

The rain had washed away most traces, but I knew my mate's scent better than anyone. It led me away from the main pack grounds, toward the small cottages where the lower-ranked wolves lived.

There—a light in the window of Everly Morgan's cottage.

I approached cautiously, my heart pounding against my ribs. Through the window, I could see into her cozy living room. Ryland sat on her couch, his arm around her shoulders as she trembled against him.

"I'm so scared," she whispered, her voice carrying through the glass. "The thunder... it triggers my sickness."

"You're safe now," Ryland murmured, stroking her hair. "I've got you."

On the coffee table sat a steaming bowl of soup that he was coaxing her to drink. His expression was tender in a way I hadn't seen directed at me in months.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Everly said, leaning into him. "No one else understands what it's like to be so... fragile."

My stomach twisted as I watched my mate—my Alpha—comfort another woman while my father sat in silver-lined cells. The contrast was sickening.

As if sensing my presence, Ryland glanced toward the window. Our eyes met through the glass, and for a moment, something flickered across his face—not guilt, but annoyance at being caught.

I stepped back into the shadows, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces. In that moment, I realized the truth I'd been denying for months: I was alone in this mate bond.

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled—a sound of mourning that echoed my own breaking heart.

Morning light filtered through the high windows of the pack house as I made my way to the dungeons. My father had spent the night in silver-lined cells—a thought that made my wolf pace restlessly inside me. Each step down the stone staircase felt heavier than the last.

Two guards blocked the entrance, their postures rigid with newfound authority. I recognized them as Vance's men—wolves who had risen quickly under his protection.

"Luna Celine," the taller one greeted me with a slight bow that didn't reach his eyes. "Gamma Vance left strict orders—no visitors without his approval."

"I don't need his approval," I replied, letting my Luna aura flare. "I need to see my father."

"Alpha Ryland's orders were clear—"

"Alpha Ryland is my mate," I cut in, my voice dropping to a dangerous octave. "And I am still your Luna. Now stand aside."

The guards exchanged glances, clearly torn between following Vance's instructions and obeying the Luna command that still flowed through my veins. Finally, they stepped aside, though their expressions made it clear this temporary submission was noted.

The dungeon air hit me like a physical blow—damp, cold, and heavy with the acrid smell of silver burning flesh. My father sat on a simple wooden bench, his back straight despite the pain I could see etched across his face.

"Father," I whispered, rushing to his side.

"Celine." His voice was steady, though I could see the silver burns already blooming across his wrists where the cuffs had been. "You shouldn't be here."

"I had to see you." I knelt before him, gently examining the angry red welts. "This is inhumane."

"It's protocol," he said simply, though his eyes flashed with brief anger. "But something isn't right about this accusation."

"I know." I squeezed his hand carefully. "I'll find out what happened."

"Don't fight Ryland," he warned, his voice dropping lower. "He's still your Alpha."

"He's not using his authority to help you," I countered, bitterness creeping into my tone.

My father studied my face, his eyes softening. "Then you must find the truth yourself, daughter. You are my only hope."

The weight of his words settled over me like a mantle. In that moment, I realized how alone we both were—how much depended on me.

---

"The security logs are currently being processed," Vance informed me, not bothering to look up from his desk. "There's an administrative backlog."

I leaned against his office doorframe, arms crossed. "How convenient. And the evidence room?"

"Restricted access until the investigation is complete." He finally met my gaze, a smile playing at his lips. "Pack protocol, Luna."

"This is absurd," I snapped. "I need to see the evidence against my father."

"Take it up with Alpha Ryland," Vance suggested, his tone making it clear he knew exactly where Ryland would be.

I closed my eyes, reaching for the mind-link that connected me to my mate.

*Ryland, I need access to the security footage and evidence room. Vance is stalling.*

I waited for his response, but instead of his voice in my head, I encountered a wall—a deliberate blockage.

*Do not disturb* was all that came through before the connection went silent.

My eyes flew open, rage and hurt surging through me. He had blocked me out—something that should be impossible between mates unless deliberately forced.

"Still waiting for Alpha Ryland's response?" Vance asked, his amusement barely concealed.

"He's busy," I replied coldly, turning to leave.

---

The pack house was silent at 2 AM as I slipped through the shadows toward the archives. My father had trained me well—I knew every corridor, every hiding place in this building.

The evidence room was locked, but I had prepared for that. The small silver key I'd taken from the Beta's office earlier would do the trick.

Inside, the room smelled of dust and old paper. I moved quickly to the evidence bag containing my father's cloak.

Under the fluorescent lights, I examined it closely. The fabric was familiar—my father's favorite traveling cloak. But something was off.

I buried my face in the material, inhaling deeply. Beneath the heavy layer of Rogue pheromones—clearly planted—was another scent. Faint but distinct.

My eyes widened as I recognized it: a specific mix of lavender and synthetic musk. A cheap perfume sold only at the pack's general store.

No Rogue would wear such a thing.

I closed my eyes, letting my superior tracking abilities isolate the scent further. There—beneath the perfume was something else. Something familiar.

A scent I knew belonged to someone in this pack.

Someone who wanted my father gone.

And suddenly, I knew exactly where to look next.

I tucked the evidence bag under my arm as I made my way to the small general store at the edge of pack territory. The morning sun cast long shadows across the wooden porch, where an elderly Omega was sweeping dust into neat piles.

"Silas," I called out, my voice carrying the authority of Luna despite my exhaustion.

The shopkeeper—not to be confused with the pack healer of the same name—jumped at the sound of his name. He was a thin man with wire-rimmed glasses that kept sliding down his nose.

"L-Luna Celine," he stammered, immediately dropping his broom and bowing his head. "What brings you to my humble shop?"

I stepped inside, noting how the bell above the door jingled with my entrance. The store smelled of dried herbs and cheap perfume—including the particular lavender-musk scent I'd detected on my father's cloak.

"I need information," I said, placing the evidence bag on the counter between us. "About a purchase made recently."

Silas's eyes darted nervously to the bag, then back to my face. "I... I don't understand, Luna."

"This scent," I said, opening the bag slightly and letting him catch a whiff. "Who bought it?"

His face paled. "I-I can't disclose customer information."

I leaned forward, letting my Luna aura flare. The air around us thickened with power, making Silas's breath catch.

"My father sits in silver-lined cells while you protect someone who planted evidence," I said quietly. "Is that how you show loyalty to your pack?"

Silas swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "It was a masked figure," he finally whispered. "But..."

"But?" I prompted.

"But I noticed something," he continued, voice barely audible. "A limp. The customer walked with a distinct limp—dragged their right foot slightly."

My eyes narrowed. "Like Gamma Vance?"

Silas nodded almost imperceptibly. "I didn't want to say anything. He's been... generous with shop protection since becoming Gamma."

---

The dining hall buzzed with activity as I approached Ryland's table. He sat alone, scrolling through his phone while picking at his lunch. Perfect timing—I needed to present my findings before Vance could interfere further.

"Ryland," I said, sliding into the seat across from him. "I have evidence that—"

"Not now, Celine," he cut me off, not even looking up. "I'm reviewing the security reports."

"This will only take a minute," I insisted, placing my folder on the table. "The perfume on my father's cloak was traced to—"

A commotion erupted across the room. Every head turned toward the sound—including Ryland's.

Everly Morgan stumbled through the doorway, clutching her chest. Her face was pale, lips trembling as she took faltering steps into the dining hall.

"Help," she gasped, her voice carrying dramatically through the space. "I can't... breathe..."

Ryland was on his feet instantly, rushing to her side as she collapsed into his arms with perfect timing.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, cradling her against his chest.

"My heart," she whispered, her eyes finding mine across the room. For just a moment, I caught a flash of triumph in them before they rolled back dramatically. "It's racing... I need help..."

Ryland lifted her effortlessly, turning to glare at me as I approached. "We need to get her to the hospital wing."

"Ryland, wait," I said, reaching for my folder. "This evidence—"

"Stop bothering me with trifles while a life is at risk!" he snapped, his Alpha tone vibrating through the air. Several nearby wolves flinched at the force of it.

He strode away, carrying Everly while she nestled her face against his neck. My folder of evidence lay forgotten on the table, pages scattering as other wolves moved around it.

---

I found Silas Gray in the hospital wing's storage room, counting medical supplies. The pack healer jumped when I closed the door behind me.

"Luna Celine," he stammered, nearly dropping his clipboard. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Clearly," I replied, leaning against a shelf of bandages. "I have questions about Everly Morgan's condition."

Silas paled. "I... I'm not at liberty to discuss patients."

"I'm not asking about her health," I said, stepping closer. "I'm asking about her illness."

He blinked nervously. "I don't understand."

"Her 'wolf sickness,'" I clarified. "The condition that requires our Alpha's constant attention. The one that conveniently flares up whenever I need to speak with him."

Silas's eyes darted to the door, then back to me. "Luna, please... I could lose my position."

"Or," I suggested, picking up a bottle of pain medication, "I could audit the medical supply inventory. I've heard there's been some... discrepancy."

His face drained of color. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," I challenged. "Now tell me about Everly's condition."

Silas swallowed hard. "She's healthy," he finally admitted. "Completely healthy."

"But she takes something," I pressed. "Something to make her heart race?"

He nodded reluctantly. "Herbs. Innocent ones separately, but combined they induce temporary irregular heartbeats. She takes them before... before she knows Alpha Ryland will be near."

I closed my eyes, the final piece falling into place. Everly wasn't just manipulating Ryland—she was systematically destroying my position as Luna.

And my mate was letting her do it.