The confrontation in the morning assembly had left the entire pack on edge, whispers following me wherever I went. I retreated to the small herb garden behind our den, seeking solace among the healing plants my father had taught me to tend. The familiar scents of lavender and chamomile did little to calm the storm raging in my chest.

"Luna Everly."

I didn't need to turn around to know who spoke. Dahlia's voice carried the refined accent of pack royalty, each syllable perfectly enunciated. I continued pulling weeds from between the mint leaves, my hands steady despite the tremor in my heart.

"What do you want?" I kept my tone neutral, though my wolf bristled beneath my skin.

"To speak with you privately." Her footsteps were soft on the packed earth as she approached. "About our... situation."

I finally looked up, meeting those calculating amber eyes. Up close, I could see the careful way she held herself, every gesture measured and deliberate. This wasn't a she-wolf driven by passion or love—this was someone playing a game.

"There is no 'our' situation," I said, rising to my feet and brushing dirt from my hands. "There's only mine."

Dahlia's lips curved in what might have been a smile if it had reached her eyes. "I understand your... attachment to Alpha Rivera. Truly, I do. But you must see that this arrangement is temporary. Necessary."

"Temporary?" The word tasted bitter on my tongue.

"Once the pack receives official recognition and territory rights, once we're established..." She shrugged elegantly. "Political marriages serve their purpose and then fade into the background. You could resume your position quietly."

My wolf snarled at the casual dismissal, at the way she spoke of my mate bond like it was some inconvenient detail to be managed. But what chilled me more was how her eyes swept across our territory as she spoke—noting the defensive positions, the patrol routes, the vulnerable points where our borders met the wilderness.

"How generous of you to offer me scraps of my own life," I said softly.

Her mask slipped for just a moment, revealing something cold and sharp underneath. "Don't be naive, Luna. This is bigger than your feelings. The Lycan Council doesn't negotiate with rogues—they eliminate them. Ace is trying to save your pack, your pup. The least you could do is show some gratitude."

The mention of my unborn child made my hand instinctively move to my belly. "Don't you dare speak about my pup."

"Your pup who will grow up as a rogue bastard if this deal falls through?" Dahlia's voice remained pleasant, but her words cut like glass. "Or as the legitimate heir to an officially recognized pack? The choice seems obvious to me."

I stepped closer, letting my Luna aura press against hers. "You know nothing about choice. Nothing about sacrifice. You're here playing politics while we've bled for every scrap of territory, every day of survival."

For the first time, something genuine flickered in her eyes—pain, perhaps, or recognition. But it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

"Think about what I've said," she murmured, backing away with that same calculated grace. "For your pup's sake, if not your own."

Three days later, Ace called another pack assembly. This time, the atmosphere was different—formal, heavy with the weight of ceremony. Pack members filed into the clearing with unusual solemnity, sensing that whatever happened tonight would change everything.

I took my usual place in the inner circle, but it felt wrong somehow, like sitting in a chair that no longer fit. Ace stood at the center, his Alpha presence commanding and terrible. Dahlia stood beside him, no longer the visitor but something more permanent, more threatening.

"My pack," Ace began, his voice carrying across the assembled wolves. "Tonight marks a new chapter in our history. Tonight, we step out of the shadows of our rogue past and into the light of legitimacy."

My heart began to pound, each beat echoing in my ears like thunder.

"I formally present Dahlia Tucker as my chosen mate," he continued, the words falling like stones into my chest. "Future Luna of the Shadowfang Pack, blessed by the Lycan Council and recognized by ancient law."

The mate bond screamed in agony, a physical pain that stole my breath. Around me, loyal pack members shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between Ace and me. Marcus looked stricken, his mouth opening as if to protest.

"Alpha," Marcus began, rising to his feet. "What about—"

"SILENCE." Ace's Alpha command crashed over the assembly like a wave, forcing every wolf to submit. Marcus dropped back to his knees, his eyes wide with shock and betrayal.

The command washed over me too, but I was Luna—his equal. I remained standing as others bowed, the only figure of defiance in a sea of forced submission.

Ace's eyes found mine across the circle, and I saw the torment there, the self-hatred. But he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

"This union will secure our future," he continued, his voice growing stronger. "Our territory, our safety, our children's legacy. Any who oppose this decision oppose the pack's survival."

Dahlia stepped forward then, her hand finding Ace's arm in a gesture of possession that made my vision blur red. She was claiming him, marking her territory in front of everyone I'd sworn to protect.

The mate bond writhed like a living thing inside my chest, screaming against this violation of everything sacred. My wolf clawed at my consciousness, demanding action, demanding blood.

I felt the shift beginning before I could stop it, my human form dissolving as silver-gray fur erupted across my skin.

The shift rippled through me like lightning, silver-gray fur sprouting across my skin as my wolf took control. Around the circle, pack members scrambled backward, their eyes wide with shock and fear. But I only had eyes for one target.

Dahlia.

I launched myself across the clearing, my wolf's fury driving every muscle. She was fast—faster than I'd expected—rolling away just as my claws raked the earth where she'd stood. But Ace was faster.

His massive frame slammed into mine mid-leap, sending us both crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and snarls. His Alpha strength pinned me beneath him, his dark eyes blazing with authority and something that looked like heartbreak.

"SHIFT BACK," he commanded, his Alpha voice crashing over me like a physical force.

My wolf fought against the compulsion, claws scrabbling against his chest, but the command was absolute. The shift back was violent, leaving me naked and trembling beneath him, my human form no match for his wolf-enhanced strength.

"How dare you," I gasped, my voice raw with fury and betrayal. "How dare you use your Alpha command on me."

Ace's face was stone, but I caught the flicker of pain in his eyes before he masked it. "You attacked my chosen mate. I won't allow it."

Chosen mate. The words hit me like a physical blow, and something inside me snapped completely.

I waited until later that night, when the pack had dispersed and the clearing lay empty under a cold moon. Ace sat alone in our den, his head in his hands, the weight of his choices carved into every line of his body.

"Everly," he said without looking up as I entered. "We need to talk."

"Yes," I agreed softly. "We do."

He raised his head then, and I saw the torment there, the self-hatred that mirrored my own pain. But it wasn't enough. Not anymore.

"I had no choice," he began, his voice breaking. "The Lycan Council would have destroyed us all. Our pup—"

"Don't." The word came out sharp as a blade. "Don't you dare use our pup to justify this betrayal."

I moved closer, my bare feet silent on the wooden floor. He watched me approach, hope flickering in his dark eyes like he thought I might forgive him, might understand.

Instead, I struck.

My claws, partially shifted in my rage, raked across his chest in three deep furrows. Blood bloomed bright against his skin as he staggered backward, shock replacing hope in his expression.

"Everly—"

"That's for using your Alpha command on me," I snarled, my wolf rising to the surface again. "For making me submit while you claimed another."

I turned and walked toward the door, my hand on the frame when his broken voice stopped me.

"Where will you go?"

I looked back at him—this man I'd loved since childhood, this Alpha I'd followed through hell itself—and felt nothing but cold emptiness where my heart used to be.

"Anywhere but here."

By dawn, the split was complete.

I stood at the edge of our territory, watching as half our pack followed Ace toward the eastern border where Lycan lands promised safety and legitimacy. Marcus walked beside him, his loyalty to his Alpha unwavering despite the confusion in his eyes. Others I'd considered friends chose security over principle, their gazes avoiding mine as they passed.

But not all of them left.

Luna Vera stepped up beside me, her weathered face set with determination. "Thirty-seven stayed," she said quietly. "Thirty-seven who remember what loyalty means."

I nodded, watching Ace's retreating figure until he disappeared into the treeline. The mate bond stretched thin between us, a constant ache that I forced myself to ignore.

"Then we secure what's ours," I said, my Luna voice carrying to the wolves who'd chosen to follow me. "This territory belongs to us. We've bled for it, fought for it. We won't give it up for political convenience."

The first week passed in a blur of reorganization. We established new patrol routes, reinforced our borders, and began the difficult work of functioning as a smaller pack. It should have been manageable—we'd survived worse odds before.

Then Emma collapsed during morning patrol.

I found her retching behind the supply den, her face pale and slick with sweat. "Just a stomach bug," she insisted, but her scent was wrong—tainted with something acrid and unnatural.

By evening, three more pack members showed the same symptoms. Weakness, nausea, disorientation that left them stumbling like newborn pups. My healer's instincts screamed warnings, but I couldn't identify the cause.

The second day brought five more cases. The third day, eight.

And then it hit me.

I woke before dawn with my stomach cramping violently, bile rising in my throat. The room spun as I stumbled toward the bathroom, my legs shaking with sudden weakness. When I caught my reflection in the mirror, my face was ashen, my eyes unnaturally bright.

Wolfsbane.

The realization struck me like lightning. Someone was poisoning us systematically, and I was pregnant—vulnerable in ways that made my wolf whimper with fear.

I forced myself to the water sources, following the scent trails with growing horror. There, near our main spring, I found traces of the deadly herb mixed with earth and leaves. Subtle enough to avoid detection, concentrated enough to slowly weaken us.

As I knelt by the poisoned water, my hand instinctively protecting my belly, one terrible thought consumed me: whoever was doing this knew exactly how to destroy us from within.