During a pack run, I rescued a human nightclub singer from a rogue attack. Her name was Valentina Taylor, and she clung to me, trembling with fear. I promised to return in three days to ensure her safety. She claimed she was clean, so I lent her my clothes; she said she was afraid of the dark, so we shared a bed; and when she shivered from the cold, she curled into my arms, seeking warmth. When we parted, her eyes were filled with tears.

I had no words.

Later, I brought her back to the Silver Moon Pack, unsure how to explain her presence to my mate, Jonathan Mitchell. But before I could even try, he arrived at the packhouse with a woman in tow.

"Leona," he said, his tone cold and commanding, "this is Scarlett. She’s fragile and needs my protection."

My eyes lit up. Perfect. Mine was the same!

---

Jonathan stood there, waiting for me to protest. But I didn’t. He took my silence as disagreement and continued, his alpha voice sharp and unyielding. "Scarlett isn’t like you. She doesn’t have the strength to survive on her own. If I leave her, she’ll die. This isn’t a request. It’s a decision I’ve already made."

He expected me to argue, to fight back. But instead, I almost smiled. I’d been agonizing over how to explain Valentina’s presence, and here he was, handing me the perfect excuse. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.

"Alpha," Scarlett said, her voice trembling as she stepped closer to him, "if Luna doesn’t approve, I don’t want to cause any trouble."

Her words seemed to fuel Jonathan’s irritation. "Why wouldn’t she approve? She’s always been calculating and manipulative. If it weren’t for her scheming, I never would have agreed to this mate bond in the first place."

He finally looked at me, his gaze sharp and accusing, but then his eyes widened in shock. "Who is that?!"

His voice grew louder as his gaze dropped to Valentina’s waist. "Why is she wearing the silver necklace I gave you?!"

I stood there, dressed in my usual tailored suit, my posture stiff and formal. Valentina, wearing the red dress I’d lent her, leaned against me, her hand resting delicately on my arm. Her eyes were wide with feigned innocence as she looked at Jonathan. "Alpha, who is this man?"

I hesitated for a moment, then allowed a rare, awkward smile to cross my face. "Jonathan," I said calmly, "this is Valentina. She’s also… fragile and in need of my protection."

---

Jonathan continued to rant, insisting that Scarlett would die without him and that I should "understand" his decision. As if I were the one who’d brought an outsider into our pack and claimed her as a potential mate. The audacity of it all was staggering.

But unlike Jonathan, I didn’t try to justify myself with excuses. When he finally noticed Valentina and demanded to know who she was, I didn’t flinch. Instead, I met his gaze head-on and delivered my explanation with a straight face. "Jonathan, Valentina is also… fragile and in need of my protection."

No theatrics, no grand declarations. Just a simple, matter-of-fact statement. And the silver necklace hanging from Valentina’s waist? It looked far better on her than it ever had on me.

My name is Leona Carter, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack and the eldest daughter of the Carter family.

From the moment I could walk, I was marked as extraordinary. I spoke at one, ran at two, recited poetry at three, and by four, I’d devoured every book in my father’s library. By ten, my inner wolf had awakened—years ahead of most—and by twenty-five, I’d already established myself as a force to be reckoned with within the werewolf community.

At twenty-eight, an alliance was formed between my pack and the Crimson Fang Pack, sealed by a betrothal to their Alpha, Jonathan Mitchell. My father, the former Alpha, called us to his office one day and said, “Now that your mate bond is settled, it’s time for you to prove yourselves. Rogues have been causing trouble in the city. Go and handle it.”

The rumors had been swirling for months. A rogue faction had gotten their hands on a rare, potent herb—one that could enhance their strength and make them a threat to the entire werewolf community. It had gone missing, and it was our job to retrieve it.

Jonathan and I were supposed to work together, but he abandoned me almost immediately. “Leona,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain, “don’t think this mate bond gives you any power over me. This is your punishment for always showing me up. When you’ve learned your lesson, come find me.”

Jonathan Mitchell, my betrothed, my childhood acquaintance, and my eternal rival.

He’s always hated me. And why wouldn’t he? Every time we sparred, I left him humiliated.

Once, he came to me in secret, his pride bruised, and said, “If you let me win in front of the pack, I’ll consider being your friend.”

Everyone in the Silver Moon Pack knew me as the emotionless, untouchable Alpha. They kept their distance, whispering about how cold and unfeeling I was.

Jonathan knew this. He saw how I’d pause, just for a moment, when I saw the younger pack members laughing and bonding. He mocked me for it.

“What’s wrong, Leona?” he’d taunt. “Even the great Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack is just a lonely, pitiful creature, aren’t you?”

I didn’t understand why he said that. Was he calling me a dog? I thought dogs were cute.

So I nodded.

I did envy the others. I wanted what they had—companionship, laughter, connection.

So I agreed to his deal.

But it wasn’t enough for him.

During the pack trials, when we faced off in front of everyone, I dropped my weapon the moment he attacked. “I yield,” I said, my voice flat and emotionless.

Jonathan froze. The crowd froze.

Then the laughter started.

“Jonathan!” someone shouted. “What did you do to make her surrender without a fight? Even the ‘Ice Queen’ would rather lose than face you!”

“This isn’t a surrender—it’s an insult!”

Jonathan’s face turned red with humiliation. He’d never been so publicly shamed.

As he stormed off, I followed, reminding him of his promise. “You said you’d be my friend if I yielded. Are you going back on your word?”

The laughter grew louder.

“Jonathan, just accept it! A cold-hearted Alpha and a cowardly Beta—what a perfect match!”

“Can’t win a fight, and now you’re faking it? Pathetic!”

Jonathan snapped. He turned on me, his claws slashing through my arm.

Blood dripped to the ground as he stared at me, shocked that I hadn’t defended myself.

“You’re an idiot,” he spat, though there was a flicker of regret in his eyes. “This is what you get for trusting me!”

He lunged again, his strikes wild and desperate.

“Jonathan,” I said calmly, “you should stop.”

“Too late to beg now!” he snarled.

Some of the pack members murmured that this wasn’t fair, but others dismissed it. “She’s the Alpha. She doesn’t feel pain like the rest of us. Let him have his moment.”

But when he didn’t stop, I had no choice. I knocked him to the ground, breaking several of his ribs.

“I told you to stop,” I said, tilting my head as I looked down at him.

From that day on, the pack spread rumors that I was obsessed with Jonathan, that I’d hurt him out of jealousy and desperation.

And Jonathan? He became convinced I was a monster, willing to do anything to force him into this mate bond.

---

My name is Valentina Taylor.

It’s the name I was given after I was sold to a rogue pack.

The leader of the pack, a cruel woman with sharp eyes, grabbed my chin and said, “You’ve got that innocent look, but there’s something sharp underneath. You’ll do well here.”

But I didn’t want to do well there.

I had no memory of my life before being taken. They said they found me by a river, alone and helpless.

I didn’t know what a rogue pack was, or what it meant to be sold.

For six months, they taught me how to act, how to speak, how to survive in their world.

One of the rogues, a girl named Araceli, became my closest friend.

“Valentina,” she said one day, her voice soft with hope, “there’s a man. He says he’ll take me away from here, make me his mate. He’ll protect me.”

Her eyes sparkled with dreams of a future far away from the rogues.

“You’re the prettiest one here,” she told me. “You should think about your future too.”

But I didn’t want a future tied to anyone.

Three months later, Araceli’s dreams shattered.

The man she’d fallen for, a Delta from a nearby pack, rejected her. He’d found a higher-ranked female, one who could elevate his status within his pack.

Araceli was devastated.

She begged the rogues to let her go, to let her find him, but they laughed in her face.

“You’re nothing to him,” one of them sneered. “He’s moved on to someone better. You’re just a burden, a stain on his reputation.”

Araceli couldn’t bear it.

One night, she climbed to the highest point in the rogue territory and jumped.

I found her body the next morning, broken and lifeless.

Her eyes were still open, staring at the sky—or maybe at me.

The rogues didn’t care.

“What a waste,” their leader said, counting the money they’d earned from her.

That was the moment I knew I had to escape.

This place was hell.

And I had to run.