Sarah POV:

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Marcus asked, checking his reflection in the rearview mirror of the SUV.

"I need to be useful," I said softly, smoothing the skirt of my dress. It hung loosely on my frame; I had lost ten pounds in three days. "If I'm going to be... just a wife, I should focus on charity."

We were parked outside the pack orphanage. It was a grim brick building on the edge of the territory, usually underfunded. But today, Marcus was strangely eager to visit.

He reached into the back seat and pulled out a box. It was a limited edition mecha-robot, the kind that cost more than an Omega's yearly salary.

"A donation?" I asked innocently.

"Just something to brighten a kid's day," he said dismissively.

We walked inside. The scent of bleach and boiled cabbage hit me—or rather, the ghost of the scent. My human-like nose was pathetic compared to what I was used to.

The matron hurried over, bowing low to Marcus. "Alpha! We weren't expecting you."

"Just a casual visit," Marcus said, his eyes scanning the room.

Then, a blur of motion shot across the linoleum floor.

"Daddy!"

A small boy, about three years old, slammed into Marcus's legs.

The room went silent. The matron looked terrified.

Marcus froze for a second, then laughed nervously, peeling the child off his leg. "Well, aren't you a friendly one."

I looked at the boy. He was the spitting image of the photos in the safe. Dark hair, dark eyes, the same arrogant tilt of the chin.

Even without my wolf senses, the biological connection was screaming. In the werewolf world, a pup's scent is a mix of their mother and father. It is an undeniable signature.

"What's your name?" I asked, crouching down.

The boy sneered at me. "Oliver. And who are you? You look burnt."

"Oliver!" A woman's voice cut through the air.

Rachel stepped out from the back office. She wasn't wearing the gray uniform of the orphanage staff. She was wearing a silk blouse and tight jeans, dripping in gold jewelry.

"I'm so sorry, Alpha," Rachel cooed, walking over and placing a possessive hand on the boy's shoulder. "He's just spirited. He loves strong wolves." She glanced at me with veiled contempt. "He doesn't like... weakness."

"He's charming," I said, standing up. My legs felt weak. "Marcus, why don't you go with Miss...?"

"Rachel," she supplied.

"With Miss Rachel and Oliver to check the facilities? I need to sit down for a moment. The drive made me dizzy."

"Of course," Marcus said, looking relieved to get away from my scrutiny. He handed the expensive toy to Oliver. "Here, buddy. Let's go look at the playroom."

They walked away, a perfect little family unit.

I waited until they turned the corner, then I slipped into the hallway adjacent to the playroom. I couldn't hear whispers anymore, but the walls here were thin plasterboard. I pressed my ear against the surface.

"...she looks hideous," Rachel's voice came through, muffled but audible. "That scar on her neck? Disgusting."

"It serves a purpose," Marcus's voice replied. "It keeps her insecure. She won't leave me if she thinks no one else will want her."

"Why didn't you just kill her?" Rachel whined. "I want to be Luna now. The ceremony is in two days."

"We have to be smart, Rachel. If she dies suspiciously right after the fire, the Council investigates. If she 'steps down' because of her injuries and tragic loss of her wolf, I look like the benevolent Alpha caring for a cripple, and you step in as the mother of my heir."

"Look at this!" Rachel exclaimed. "I got a Moonlight Healing Crystal from the market. Should we use it on her? Maybe fix her face so she's at least presentable for the photos?"

"Don't waste it," Marcus scoffed. "Those crystals are rare. Keep it for Oliver. Sarah doesn't need healing. She needs to stay exactly as she is—broken."

"Mommy, tell the ugly lady to go away," Oliver's voice piped up.

"Soon, baby. Soon she'll be living in the servants' quarters where she belongs."

I pulled away from the wall. My hands were shaking, but not from fear this time. From rage.

He would rather see me scarred for life than waste a crystal on me. He was already planning to move me to the servants' quarters.

I walked back to the entrance hall.

When they returned ten minutes later, I was sitting on the bench, smiling.

"Did you have a nice tour?" I asked.

"Very informative," Marcus said. He looked flushed, happy.

"I think we should sponsor little Oliver," I said, looking directly at Rachel. "He seems... special. Don't you think, Marcus? He has your eyes."

Marcus paled. Rachel narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge if I knew.

"Yes," Marcus stammered. "Yes, maybe."

"Great," I said, standing up. "Let's go home. I have so much to prepare for the ceremony."

Prepare to burn it all down, I thought.

Sarah POV:

The "Charity Gala" was being held on the pack's private river cruise ship. It was a display of wealth and power, intended to show the neighboring packs that the Darkmoon Pack was thriving despite the recent "tragedy" of the future Luna.

I stood on the upper deck, gripping the railing. The wind whipped my hair across my face, stinging my eyes.

Below, on the main deck, the party was in full swing. Crystal chandeliers tinkled in the breeze. Waiters circulated with champagne.

Marcus was in the center of the crowd, holding a glass of wine. Rachel was beside him, not as a date—that would be too obvious—but as the "organizer." She wore a red dress that was cut low enough to be scandalous.

I saw Marcus tap his glass with a spoon. The music stopped.

"Friends, family," Marcus boomed, his Alpha voice projecting effortlessly. "Tonight is about the future. And speaking of the future..."

He gestured to the side. Oliver, dressed in a miniature tuxedo, ran out.

The crowd murmured.

"This young man," Marcus said, placing a hand on the boy's head, "has shown incredible potential. Tonight, I am bestowing upon him the Young Wolf's Dagger."

He pulled a ceremonial dagger from a velvet cloth. It was an ancient artifact, traditionally given only to the Alpha's direct heir.

The crowd gasped. Giving this to an orphan? It was a declaration of intent so loud it shattered eardrums.

I turned away. I reached into my purse and pulled out a small bundle of letters. They were the love letters Marcus had written me when we were teenagers. Before the power corrupted him. Before Rachel.

I flicked my lighter. The flame danced in the wind.

I held the corner of the paper to the fire. It caught instantly. I watched the ink curl and blacken, the promises of "forever" turning to ash. I let them go, watching the burning embers drift down into the dark water of the river.

"Dramatic, aren't we?"

I spun around.

Rachel stood there. But before I could speak, her body contorted. Bones cracked and reshaped. In seconds, a reddish-brown wolf stood on the deck.

She didn't shift fully—just enough to be terrifying. She stood on her hind legs, towering over me, her claws extended.

"No wolf," she growled, her human voice distorted by her shifting vocal cords. "Wolfless freak."

She shoved me.

I stumbled back, hitting the railing. Without my wolf's strength, I was frail. My head cracked against the metal.

"You don't belong here," she hissed, stepping closer. She grabbed my arm, her claws digging into the burn scars.

I cried out. The pain was blinding.

"Marcus doesn't want you," she sneered. "He pities you. You're just a placeholder until the ceremony is over."

"At least I didn't have to trap him with a lie," I spat back, adrenaline giving me courage.

Rachel roared. She swiped at me, her claws tearing the sleeve of my dress.

Then, hearing footsteps on the stairs, she suddenly threw herself backward.

She slammed into the railing and flipped over it, clinging to the edge with one hand, screaming.

"Help! She's crazy! She's trying to kill me!"

Marcus burst onto the deck, followed by a dozen guests.

He saw me standing there, breathing hard, my dress torn. He saw Rachel dangling over the dark water.

"Sarah!" he roared.

He didn't ask what happened. He didn't look at my bleeding arm.

He rushed past me and hauled Rachel up. She collapsed into his arms, shifting back to human form, naked and shivering, sobbing theatrically.

"She tried to push me," Rachel wailed, burying her face in his chest. "She said I was trying to steal you!"

Marcus turned to me. His eyes were glowing red—the sign of an enraged Alpha.

"Is this true?" he demanded.

"No," I said calmly. "She attacked me."

"Liar!" Rachel screamed. "Look at her! She's jealous! She's insane!"

Marcus took a step toward me. The air grew heavy.

"SUBMIT!"

He used the Alpha Voice.

It hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckled. I collapsed onto the hard deck, my forehead slamming against the wood. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. The command forced me into a posture of total submission.

It was the ultimate humiliation. An Alpha using the Voice on his injured, wolfless mate in front of strangers.

"You are a disgrace," Marcus spat, looking down at me with pure disgust. "Get her out of my sight. Lock her in her room until the ceremony."

Two guards grabbed my arms and dragged me away.

I didn't fight. I didn't cry.

As they dragged me down the stairs, I looked back at Marcus comforting Rachel.

Two days, I told myself. Just survive.

Sarah POV:

The morning of the Marking Ceremony dawned gray and cold.

I stood outside the pack house, a small suitcase at my feet. The wind bit through my thin coat.

"You're actually leaving?"

I turned. Marcus's mother, the former Luna, stood on the porch. She held a cup of steaming coffee, looking warm and comfortable.

"I thought this is what you wanted," I said. "I'm going to the secluded cabin in the North Woods to 'recover.' Isn't that the story?"

"It's for the best," she sniffed, looking at me with disdain. "You can't expect Marcus to be tied to a barren mule. We need strong bloodlines. Oliver is a prodigy. You... you are a tragedy."

"A tragedy you helped create," I said quietly.

She narrowed her eyes. "Watch your tone, Omega. Be grateful we aren't exiling you completely."

A black SUV pulled up. It wasn't a pack car. It was a rental I had booked under a fake name.

Marcus came out of the house. He was on the phone, looking stressed.

"Yes, I'm signing the territory transfer now... It's Rachel's dowry, effectively... Yes, the Council approved it."

He hung up and looked at me. For a second, just a second, his expression wavered. He looked at my suitcase, then at my face.

"The cabin is stocked," he said stiffly. "I'll come visit... after the ceremony. Once things settle down."

"Don't bother," I said.

"Sarah, don't be difficult. This is hard for everyone."

"Hard?" I laughed, a dry, brittle sound. "You're marrying your mistress and legitimizing your son. I'm being shipped off to the woods like a sick dog. Yes, Marcus, it's very hard for you."

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "It's our mating ceremony, Sarah. In a way. I'm doing this to protect the pack. To protect us. You'll always be my first choice."

"Your first choice," I repeated. "Right."

I opened the car door.

"Say goodbye to Oliver for me," I said.

"He's with the nanny," Marcus said dismissively.

I got in. The driver, a man in a cap and sunglasses, nodded at me in the rearview mirror. It was a Winterbane warrior in disguise.

As the car pulled away, I watched Marcus in the side mirror. He stood there, growing smaller and smaller, surrounded by his parents and his lies.

We drove for an hour in silence. We crossed the pack boundary line.

As soon as we crossed that invisible barrier, something happened.

Deep in my chest, in the hollow space where my wolf used to be, I felt a flutter.

It was faint. Like the heartbeat of a bird. But it was there.

My hand flew to my chest.

"Everything okay, Ma'am?" the driver asked.

"I... I think so," I whispered.

The silver suppresses the wolf. It kills the connection. But my wolf... she was a fighter. She hadn't died. She had gone into a deep coma to survive the pain.

And now that I was away from the Alpha who had tried to kill her, away from the toxicity of the Darkmoon Pack, she was stirring.

I looked out the window at the passing trees.

Marcus thought he had destroyed me. He thought I was gone.

But as the car sped toward the freedom of the North, I knew one thing for certain.

The Luna he broke was about to become his worst nightmare.

"Drive faster," I told the warrior.

"Yes, Luna," he replied.

I smiled. It was the first real smile I had worn in years.