Of course, Luna Brown was still a rogue at this moment.

Lawson’s confused gaze told me he hadn’t heard what I’d just said. Or perhaps I had imagined it altogether.

I cradled the small rogue in my arms as we made our way down the trail, Lawson trailing behind me, his voice a constant stream of complaints.

“It’s just a stray rogue, Mazie. We’ve already wasted enough time freeing her from that trap. Are you really planning to nurse her back to health?”

The comments in my mind—those strange, prophetic thoughts—flooded in, each one more insistent than the last.

*She’s not just any rogue! Luna’s a rare one, with a scent most wolves would kill to possess. Lawson doesn’t realize his future success will depend on her.*

*Luna’s special. She’ll help him save Aya Black, the Beta’s daughter, and that’ll be his ticket to rising through the ranks.*

I paused, glancing down at the rogue in my arms. The same rogue the voices claimed would one day dedicate herself to Lawson was currently baring her teeth at him, a low growl rumbling in her throat.

…

Luna’s leg was still bleeding, the wound from the trap raw and deep. Leaving her out here in the wilderness would almost certainly mean her death. But if the voices were right—if this rogue would one day become a threat to my mate bond with Lawson—what then?

As if sensing my hesitation, Luna nuzzled her head against my arm, her amber eyes softening as she exposed the vulnerable curve of her neck.

Oh, she was good. Too good.

Before I could stop myself, I tightened my hold on her.

“Of course we’re taking her in,” I said firmly, my alpha tone cutting through the tension. “She’s hurt, Lawson. We can’t just leave her here.”

He sighed, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t argue further. As we continued down the trail, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this decision—this moment—would change everything.