The moon had long since set, but Aria could not sleep.

She sat curled on the edge of her bed, knees pressed tight to her chest, the shadows of the room pressing in on her like a cage. Her gaze never left the seared mark on her wrist. It pulsed faintly under the torchlight, its glow soft but unyielding, mocking her with every heartbeat.

Her nails had scratched the skin raw. She had tried again and again to scrape it away, to draw blood until nothing remained but torn flesh. Yet no matter how much she clawed, the mark endured bright, damning, cruel.

This cursed brand has stolen everything from me, she thought, bitter tears burning behind her eyes. My father's pride. My pack's respect. My future as Alpha. All gone, ripped from me in a single night.

Her chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven bursts. Every breath was a fight, every heartbeat a reminder of what had been taken. She wanted to scream until her throat bled. She wanted to howl to the Goddess, demanding to know why. But even if she screamed, even if she shattered her own voice, the echoes in her mind would remain.

"Cursed."

"Tainted."

"Not fit to lead."

The whispers clung to her, louder in silence than they had ever been in the crowd. Each word dug into her flesh, deeper than any claw, sharper than any fang.

Her wolf stirred inside her, restless, unsettled. But even her wolf the spirit that was supposed to be her strength felt uncertain, unable to fight an enemy that could not be clawed or bitten.

Then came the nausea.

It had started a week after the ceremony, faint at first, easy to ignore. But now it twisted through her stomach like fire, rising and falling in violent waves. Aria doubled over, clutching her abdomen as bile clawed up her throat. She stumbled to the basin, falling to her knees as she retched.

Again and again, her body convulsed, until nothing remained but acid that scorched her throat and tears that streamed freely down her cheeks. Sweat plastered her dark hair to her temples. Her limbs trembled.

Her breath came in ragged gasps.

"Elora..." she rasped, her voice thin and broken, as she collapsed onto the floor. Her body refused to rise, her strength drained completely.

The door rattled against its frame. Then came the familiar panicked voice.

"Aria?"

Moments later, Elora burst into the room. She froze when she saw her best friend sprawled on the ground, pale and shivering. Her eyes widened with fear.

"Moon Goddess, you're burning up!" Elora dropped to her knees, pressing a trembling hand to Aria's forehead. Heat radiated against her palm. Panic filled her features. "I'll fetch the healer"

"No!" Aria's hand shot out with sudden strength, gripping Elora's wrist hard enough to leave marks. Her eyes were wild, desperate. Her nails dug in. "No one must know. Please, Elora. Just... help me."

Elora's breath hitched. She stared into her friend's frantic eyes, torn between duty and loyalty. Every instinct screamed at her to run for the healer, but Aria's grip her plea was unyielding.

At last, Elora swallowed and nodded, whispering, "Then let me fetch something for your stomach. I'll take care of you, I swear."

The next morning, the sickness was worse.

By the third day, Aria collapsed again, her body weaker than before. Her skin had taken on a sickly pallor, her lips cracked from dehydration. She lay sprawled across her bed, unable to sit up.

Elora sat beside her, fear written in every line of her face. She pressed a hand to Aria's forehead again, whispering, "This isn't just fatigue. This... this feels different."

"What do you mean?" Aria croaked, her throat dry and raw.

Elora hesitated, her hand trembling as she reached into her satchel. She pulled out a small strip of parchment, faintly green, soaked in crushed herbs.

"My mother taught me this, before I moved to Silverfang," Elora whispered, her voice low, as though afraid the walls themselves might overhear. "It's a test. If your body carries life, the potion will react."

Aria froze. The words slammed into her like a blow.

"No," she whispered, her voice sharp, shaking her head violently. "No, it can't be. It can't."

Elora's eyes shimmered with pity. "Aria, please. We must know."

Her heart thundered so loudly it drowned out everything else. Sweat beaded at her temples, her breath catching in her throat. Her entire body shook as Elora pricked her finger and held out the parchment.

The drop of blood fell onto the strip. Red bloomed across green. The paper was soaked, then pressed flat to dry.

The minutes stretched into eternity.

The silence was unbearable. Each crackle of the torch on the wall was like thunder. The air itself seemed to grow heavier, pressing down on them both.

Aria's eyes never left the strip, her stomach twisting tighter with each second. Her hands trembled in her lap. She prayed desperately to the Moon Goddess, begging, bargaining.

Please, not this. Anything but this.

And then two faint lines appeared.

The world tilted.

Aria's breath shattered in her chest.

"No..." Her hands flew to her stomach, trembling violently. "No, no, no... Moon Goddess, this can't be real."

Her knees gave out. She collapsed backward onto the bed, clutching her abdomen as though she could squeeze the truth away, as though sheer force could erase what had been written in blood.

Pregnant.

She was pregnant.

The word echoed in her skull, louder and louder, until it drowned out thought itself.

I'm carrying his child. The child of the stranger who destroyed me.

Tears spilled hot and relentless down her cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath her. Her body shook as sobs tore through her chest like shards of glass.

She screamed to the ceiling, to the Goddess who had once been her light. "Why? Why are you punishing me this way?"

Elora's own tears fell freely as she dropped to her knees beside her friend, wrapping trembling arms around her. "Aria, breathe. Please. We'll figure this out. No one has to know. Not yet."

But Aria could not stop. Her sobs ripped from her throat, raw and broken. "My father will kill me. The pack will exile me. Elora..." Her voice cracked, desperate and hollow. "What do I do?"

Her wolf stirred weakly inside her, a flicker of presence in the storm. Its voice was faint but insistent. You are not alone. We will endure this. We are strong.

But Aria could not believe it. Not now. Not when her entire world had already collapsed and another burden had just been laid on her shoulders.

Neither of them noticed the door.

It was left slightly ajar, the latch failing to catch.

Neither of them heard the sharp intake of breath from the hallway.

Jessica the Beta's daughter stood frozen just outside, her body rigid, her hand clapped over her lips as her eyes widened with shock. Her pulse hammered in her throat, disbelief and exhilaration warring within her.

Pregnant.

The Alpha's daughter. The supposed heir of Silverfang. Pregnant out of wedlock.

And not just with any wolf's child no one even knew the bloodline of the father.

Her lips curled slowly, twisting into a dangerous smile.

For years, Jessica had lived in Aria's shadow. Her father, Beta Lucas, had always compared her to the Alpha's daughter.

"Why can't you fight like Aria?"

"Why can't you lead like Aria?"

"Why can't you be strong like her?"

Each word had been a blade. Each comparison, a wound that festered in her chest. She had trained until her muscles screamed, but still her father looked past her to praise the Alpha's perfect daughter.

And now finally the Moon Goddess had handed her the sharpest weapon of all.

A scandal. A shame. A ruin so deep it could not be hidden.

Jessica's heart pounded, her breaths shallow with anticipation. She could already see it-the way the Elders' faces would tighten in disgust, the way the whispers of the pack would sharpen into knives. The way Alpha Mason's pride would crumble into ashes.

And Aria? Aria would fall.

The untouchable Aria Moonclaw would finally be dragged into the dirt where she belonged.

Jessica's smile widened as she turned her gaze toward the corridor that led to the Elders' quarters. A place where whispers became decrees. A place where secrets turned into death sentences.

Her lips parted on a breathless laugh, dark and triumphant.

Finally. Finally, I can destroy her.

Jessica did not sleep that night.

The words she had overheard Aria is pregnant throbbed in her skull like a war drum that refused to fade. She tossed beneath her sheets, the fabric tangling around her legs, the night air stifling though the windows were thrown wide open. Every time her eyes closed, she saw it again: the proud Alpha's daughter reduced to a trembling girl, tears streaking her cheeks, clutching her stomach as though it might shatter.

Jessica buried her face into her pillow, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She could not stop trembling. This secret this devastating truth was a blade in her hands. One slip, one whisper, and she could change everything.

At first, her heart wavered.

Aria had never been cruel to her. She had never mocked Jessica, never humiliated her, never lorded her status over her. If anything, Aria had been kinder than most, offering smiles where others sneered, extending hands where others turned away.

But kindness could not silence the voice inside Jessica's chest the voice of envy, of bitterness, of years spent in her shadow.

This is my chance.

All her life, she had been "less." Beta Lucas's daughter, always weighed against the Alpha's heir and always found wanting. She had bled in training, pushed herself past breaking, only to hear her father's praise aimed at another man's child.

"You must be more like Aria."

"Why can't you fight like her? Why can't you lead like her?"

Every word had been a wound. Every comparison, a chain around her neck.

But now?

Now Jessica held the weapon that could sever Aria's place forever.

If she were the one to expose the Alpha's heir, if she carried this shame to the right ears, no one would ever compare her again. No one would ever say Aria's name above hers.

By dawn, her decision was carved in stone.

And by dusk, the whispers began to spread like wildfire.

Aria felt them before she heard them.

The stares.

The silences.

The way mothers tugged their children closer when she passed, as though her presence itself might stain them.

She walked through the corridor with Elora at her side, each step heavier than the last. The air seemed to thicken around her, pressing against her chest.

"Elora..." Her voice came out small, trembling. "Why are they looking at me like that?"

Elora's pale face said it all. She had heard the whispers too.

"She's with child."

"The Alpha's daughter, breeding without a mate."

"The Moon Goddess has forsaken her."

Aria's chest tightened until she could barely draw breath. She clutched her cloak tighter around herself, as though thin fabric could shield her from the poison dripping off their tongues.

Who betrayed me? Who told them?

Her throat burned as her vision blurred with tears. By the time she reached her chambers, her legs gave way and she collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow. Her body shook with silent sobs.

"Elora," she gasped, her words breaking, "it's over. They know. Everyone knows."

Elora sat beside her, her hands trembling as she brushed damp strands from Aria's forehead. Her eyes glistened with helplessness. "Stay calm, Aria. It could still be gossip, nothing more. If we deny it, if we stay quiet-"

The heavy slam of the door cut her words short.

Alpha Mason filled the frame. His presence crashed into the chamber like a storm, his aura so thick and suffocating that Elora dropped her gaze instantly, bowing low. Her shoulders shook beneath the weight of it.

Aria sat frozen, her pulse pounding violently in her ears.

"Leave us," Mason ordered, his tone sharp as a blade.

"Alpha, she needs-"

"Leave. Now."

Elora's lip quivered, but she obeyed, her worried eyes lingering on Aria before slipping out.

The silence that followed was worse than the whispers outside.

Mason stood rigid, his hands clenched behind his back as though holding his fury together with sheer will. His voice came low, deceptively calm, but each word carried the weight of thunder.

"Aria. Tell me what I have heard is a lie."

Her stomach dropped. This was the first thing he had spoken to her since the night of her wolf's awakening. Now, his voice was wrapped in fury so sharp it cut her to pieces.

Her lips trembled. "Father..."

"Tell me!" he roared, stepping closer, his eyes burning. "Tell me you're not carrying a child!"

Her throat closed. She tried to speak, but her voice betrayed her. Her trembling hands moved to her stomach instinctively, a gesture she couldn't control.

That was enough.

Mason's face hardened into stone. His fury cooled into something colder, something far more terrifying. For the first time in her life, Aria did not see her father. She saw only the Alpha. The judge. The executioner.

"You shame this pack," he hissed. "You shame me."

Her tears spilled in rivers. "I didn't ask for this! Do you think I wanted this? I was attacked-I was-"

She bit her lip so hard it bled, choking back the truth.

Mason's eyes narrowed dangerously. "By who?"

She shook her head violently. "I don't know. I can't-"

"Then you admit it," he snapped. "You lay with a man outside your bond. And now you carry his bastard."

The words struck like claws across her chest.

Her heart splintered. Why won't he believe me? Why won't he see I'm the victim?

She collapsed to her knees, clutching at his cloak, sobbing until her voice broke. "Please, Father, please, I swear I didn't betray you. I swear on the Moon Goddess herself."

But Mason turned his face away, lips curling as though the sight of her disgusted him.

Then came the words colder than any winter wind, heavier than any blade.

"You are no daughter of mine."

The world stopped.

Her breath caught in her throat. "W-what?"

Mason's jaw tightened. His eyes no longer blazed with anger, but with something darker.

"I should have told you long ago," he said, his voice flat and merciless. "You are not of my blood, Aria. You never were."

Her body went rigid. The air left her lungs.

Not his daughter?

Her entire world the love she thought she knew, the identity she had clung to crumbled in an instant.

"No..." she whispered, shaking her head violently. "No, that's not true. You're lying. You're just angry"

But Mason's eyes never wavered. Cold. Certain. Final.

"You were never mine to begin with."

Those words echoed louder than the pack's whispers. Louder than her wolf's cry of anguish inside her chest.

Her stomach twisted. Her nails dug into the mark on her wrist, as though the cursed brand could anchor her in a reality that was shattering around her.

If I am not his daughter... then who am I?

Her sobs filled the chamber, sharp and broken, echoing against stone walls. Mason turned, his cloak snapping behind him, and walked out without another glance.

The door slammed.

And Aria was left alone, shattered on the floor, drowning in the silence her father left behind.

The walls of her chamber became her prison.

For days, Aria did not step outside. Not into the corridors that once rang with the sound of her training. Not into the open courtyards where sparring partners had once bowed to her in respect. Not even into the forest where moonlight had once wrapped her like a blanket of safety, whispering to her that she belonged beneath its glow.

Now, she belonged nowhere.

She stayed curled beneath her sheets, staring at nothing, letting silence gnaw at her until it hollowed her from the inside out. Time lost all meaning day and night blurring until she could no longer tell which bled into which.

Elora tried.

Sometimes she slipped in quietly, her arms cradling a tray of food bread gone stiff, broth steaming faintly, fruit cut into careful slices. "Aria," she would plead, her voice trembling, "just a little. Please, for me."

Most times, Aria turned her face away. Her throat felt too tight to swallow. Her stomach twisted with sickness and grief.

Only when Elora's voice broke when she whispered, "Don't fade from me too, Aria. Please" did Aria force something past her lips. A bite. A sip. Then nothing more.

The rest of the time, she wasted away. Drifting between shallow, restless sleep and endless thoughts that bled her dry.

I am no Alpha's daughter. I am no heir. I am nothing.

Every time her mind replayed Mason's words You are no daughter of mine the sound cut deeper, a fresh wound layered over scars that had barely begun to heal.

She pressed her hand to her stomach, trembling. Even the tiny flicker of life inside her felt less like a miracle and more like a chain, dragging her into a darkness she could not escape.

Sometimes she wondered if even her wolf pitied her now.

On the fourth morning, something inside her cracked.

She dragged herself out of bed, her limbs trembling, weak from days of neglect. Her face was pale and gaunt, her lips cracked, her hair tangled in unkempt strands that clung to her damp cheeks. Her hands shook as she splashed cold water on her face, staring at the stranger in the looking glass.

Eyes red and swollen. Skin ghostly. Crest glowing faintly at her wrist, mocking her.

This cannot be me.

Still, she could no longer remain hidden. To wallow in silence was to suffocate. To stay in bed was to let the whispers win before she had even faced them.

Her wolf stirred faintly, whispering, Stand. Walk. Face them.

So she obeyed.

When she stepped into the courtyard, the world greeted her not with warmth but with knives.

Whispers slashed through the air the moment she appeared.

"There she is."

"The bastard still lives among us."

"She should be ashamed."

"Look at her still walking as though she's the heir."

Every word sank claws into her flesh.

Men who once bowed their heads now turned their backs, refusing to meet her eyes. Mothers pulled their children close, shielding them with harsh glances, as though Aria herself carried a curse that could pass with a glance. Warriors who had once trained her who had once praised her skill now studied her like she was a disease waiting to spread.

Her knees nearly gave out beneath her. Her throat tightened until breathing hurt.

Don't cry. Don't let them see you break.

But the venom of their whispers followed her like shadows, tearing what little strength she had left. Even her wolf growled inside her, restless and protective, but powerless to shield her from the sting of betrayal.

Jaw clenched, Aria forced herself forward. Each step felt like dragging chains, each breath like swallowing glass. But she refused to turn back.

There was only one place she could go. Only one man who owed her the truth.

If Mason was right if she truly was not his blood then she needed to hear everything. No more whispers. No more secrets gnawing her to pieces.

She would know who she was, or she would never stop breaking.

The guards at the Alpha's hall stiffened when she approached.

Once, they had greeted her with pride, their heads bowed deeply to the Luna-to-be. Now, their bows were shallow, almost begrudging, their eyes averted not from respect but from shame.

Still, they parted for her, opening the heavy oak doors.

Inside, Alpha Mason sat at the long table, scrolls and parchments scattered before him. He did not rise at her entry. He did not soften. His eyes once her anchor, once her warmth lifted to meet hers, and they were stone.

Once, that gaze had been pride. Comfort. The steady light of a father's love.

Now, it was the cold judgment of a man who wished she did not exist.

Aria bowed stiffly. "Alpha Mason."

Not Father. Never again.

A muscle ticked in his jaw at her formality, but he did not speak.

She straightened, forcing her voice not to tremble. "I need answers. If I am not your daughter, then whose am I?"

The silence stretched unbearably. Only the crackle of the hearth dared to fill the space between them.

Mason's jaw clenched tighter.

"Tell me," she pressed, stepping forward, her fists shaking at her sides, "where did I come from?"

Mason exhaled slowly, as though the weight of her question pressed against his very bones. His voice, when it came, was heavy. "I do not know."

The floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet. "What do you mean you don't know?"

His eyes darkened. "Elena and I found you. You were just a baby barely more than a year old. We were returning from a journey when we heard cries in the forest."

Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning everything but his voice.

"At first, I wanted to walk away," he continued. "The cries were faint. I thought perhaps it was a trick, some trap laid by rogues. But Elena..." His eyes flickered with something pain, maybe, or longing. "She insisted. She begged. She would not leave you behind."

Aria's chest tightened until she could not breathe.

"And then I scented it the faint trace of Alpha blood in your veins. It was undeniable. You were not an ordinary child."

Her stomach twisted violently, her nails digging into her palms until they nearly bled.

"Against my better judgment, I yielded. Elena cradled you as though you were her own. From that moment, she loved you fiercely, completely. She made me promise on her dying breath that you would never know the truth. That you would live loved, never burdened by questions of bloodlines."

Mason's voice hardened, his eyes cutting into her like a blade. "I kept that promise until now. But when you brought shame to this pack, I could no longer hold my tongue."

Shame.

The word cracked against her like a whip.

Aria staggered back, her hand flying to her chest as if to hold herself together. "So all this time... I was nothing more than a foundling? You don't even know who my real family is?"

Mason's gaze flickered something soft, fleeting but it vanished beneath the weight of steel. "No. I do not."

Her breath came shallow, her thoughts spiraling like leaves in a storm.

No name. No family. No truth.

Who am I?

Her knees buckled. She caught herself against the table, tears spilling before she could stop them.

"I was never yours. Not truly. And now... I don't even know who I am."

Mason said nothing. His silence cut deeper than any blade.

For a moment, she almost wished he would rage, scream, even strike her anything but this emptiness, this hollow dismissal that told her she was less than nothing.

Her chest collapsed with every breath. Her shoulders shook as she turned from him.

Moon Goddess, why? Why did you let me believe I belonged when I never did?

Her wolf stirred inside her, its voice a whisper against her grief.

You are not alone, Aria. I am with you. Together, we are strong. Together, we will seek answers.

Her hands shook as she pressed a fist to her mouth, choking on a sob.

But how? Where do we begin?

Her wolf rumbled with quiet certainty. The truth will call to us. And when it does, we will follow.

Aria's gaze dropped to the glowing crest on her wrist. It shimmered faintly, alive, as though mocking her or guiding her.

A chill swept over her skin. She could not say why, but deep inside, something told her this mark: the very curse that had ruined her was also the key to everything.

Slowly, she straightened, wiping the tears from her face. Her heart still bled, but in the cracks, something new began to stir. Not hope. Not yet. But resolve.

She whispered into the silence, more to herself than to Mason:

"I will find out who I am. Even if it kills me."

The torches along the walls flickered violently, flames snapping as if the Moon Goddess herself had heard her vow.

And far beyond Silverfang territory, in the shadows of a distant throne, a man stirred from restless dreams. His chest burned with the echo of a mark-the same crest that flared on Aria's wrist.

His lips curved into a cold, knowing smirk.

"Glowing again?"