One year. Exactly one year since I held my daughter's lifeless body in my arms, watching her tiny chest cease to rise. The memory haunted me every day, but today it felt like a physical weight crushing my lungs.
I stood outside Lawrence's office door, my hand trembling as I raised it to knock. The pack had been buzzing with activity all morning—preparations for some ceremony I hadn't been informed about. All I wanted was my mate. On this day of all days, I needed him to hold me, to acknowledge our loss, to remind me that I wasn't alone in my grief.
"Alpha," I whispered when he opened the door. "Do you have a moment?"
Lawrence's eyes flickered with something—annoyance? Guilt?—before his expression hardened into the cold mask he'd worn since our daughter died.
"Luna Evie." His voice was formal, distant. "I'm quite busy today."
"I just... I thought maybe we could..." My voice cracked. "Today marks one year since we lost her."
His jaw tightened. "The pack doesn't stop functioning because of personal matters, Evie. There's a ceremony tonight that requires my attention."
As he turned away, a scent hit me—faint but unmistakable. Milky. Fresh. The distinctive smell of a nursing mother lingered on his clothes like an invisible accusation.
My wolf stirred within me, suddenly alert. *Something's wrong.*
"I understand," I said quietly, backing away. "I'll leave you to your duties."
He didn't even look at me as the door closed.
---
Hours later, when I knew Lawrence would be overseeing the ceremony preparations in the great hall, I slipped into our wing of the packhouse. His private study—a room I'd respected as his sanctuary for years—now felt like a fortress of secrets.
My fingers trembled as I punched in the security code. Three short beeps, then the lock clicked open.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to no one, feeling like a traitor even as my wolf urged me forward. *Find the truth.*
The pack registry was kept on his private computer—a database containing every member's vital information. I'd never had reason to access it before, but something about that milky scent had triggered my wolf's protective instincts.
The system prompted for my Luna credentials. I hesitated only briefly before entering them.
"Access granted," the screen read.
I navigated to the section on pups, my heart pounding so loudly I was certain someone would hear it through the walls. The most recent entries appeared first—a standard alphabetical listing by surname.
My finger froze mid-scroll when I saw it.
"Green, Alexander James. Male. Date of birth: October 15th."
October 15th. The exact date our daughter had drawn her last breath.
My blood turned to ice as I clicked on the entry.
"Adopted heir of Alpha Lawrence Green. Officially recognized as successor to the Silverfang Alpha position."
Adopted heir? We had never discussed adoption. Never even mentioned it. And why would Lawrence register a pup on the exact day we buried our daughter?
---
The great hall buzzed with excitement when I arrived, uninvited and unwelcome. Pack members parted before me, their expressions a mixture of pity and discomfort.
At the center of the room stood Lawrence, resplendent in his ceremonial Alpha attire. Beside him, Margaret—his mother and former Luna—cradled a tiny bundle wrapped in the pack's ceremonial blanket.
"Bella presents her son for official recognition," the pack elder announced.
Bella stepped forward, her face glowing with triumph as she handed the pup to Lawrence. Her eyes met mine across the room, a flash of victory in them before she lowered her gaze in mock deference.
"Alexander James Green," Lawrence proclaimed, his voice carrying the weight of Alpha authority. "Recognized as the adopted heir of the Silverfang Pack."
Margaret leaned close to the pup, her lips curving into a smile I'd never seen her direct at my daughter. "Such a strong Alpha aura already. The pack's future is secure."
Something snapped inside me. I moved forward, my Luna aura flaring despite my grief.
"May I see the pup?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.
A hush fell over the gathering. Bella's smile faltered.
"Of course," Lawrence said after a moment, his eyes challenging me. "The Luna wishes to greet her pack's future."
As I approached, my wolf surged forward violently. One sniff was all it took.
The scent of Lawrence—my mate's unique signature—lingered on the child's skin like a brand.
*Ours,* my wolf growled. *Blood of our blood.*
I stared at the pup's face, seeing Lawrence's eyes staring back at me from an infant's features. The room spun around me as the truth crashed down like a physical blow.
Not adopted. Never adopted.
This was Lawrence's son. His biological son.
Born on the day our daughter died.
The room spun around me as I stared at the pup's face—those unmistakable eyes, Lawrence's eyes, looking back at me from an infant's features. My wolf howled in anguish inside me, clawing at my insides, demanding release.
*Ours,* she snarled. *Blood of our blood.*
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The ceremony continued around me in a blur of voices and movements, but all I could focus on was the truth crashing down like a physical blow.
"This ceremony is a lie," I heard myself say, my voice cutting through the murmurs of the pack elite.
The room fell silent. Lawrence's head snapped toward me, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Luna Evie," he warned, a hint of his Alpha tone seeping into his voice. "This is not the time—"
"When is the time?" I demanded, stepping forward. My Luna aura flared around me, pushing against the suffocating weight of his dominance. "When were you going to tell me that your mistress bore your child on the exact day our daughter died?"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Bella's face drained of color, her arms tightening protectively around the pup.
"You're hysterical," Lawrence said coldly, his voice carrying to every corner of the great hall. "Grief has damaged your mind. Our daughter's death was a tragedy, but these delusions—"
"Delusions?" My voice rose, drowning out his attempts to silence me. "I can smell him on the child! Your scent, Lawrence. Your blood!"
Margaret stepped forward, her former Luna aura flickering around her like a fading shadow. "How dare you disrupt a sacred pack ceremony with your emotional outbursts? Control yourself, girl."
But I was beyond control now. My wolf surged forward, lending me strength I didn't know I possessed.
"I, Evie," I began, my voice steady despite the trembling in my limbs, "reject you, Alpha Lawrence Green of the Silverfang Pack—"
The words of rejection burned like acid on my tongue, but I forced them out, each syllable a dagger to my own heart.
Lawrence's face contorted with rage. "ENOUGH!" he roared, unleashing his full Alpha aura.
The force of it hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckled as the weight of his power crushed down on me, stealing my breath and freezing the words in my throat.
"You will not reject me," he growled, his Alpha tone vibrating through my bones. "You are mine."
My wolf fought against the command, tearing at my insides, desperate to complete the rejection. But Lawrence's power was overwhelming, suffocating.
"I strip you of your Luna title," he snarled, circling me as I struggled to remain standing. "You are no longer fit to lead this pack."
The pack members watched in horror, some lowering their eyes in submission to their Alpha's wrath, others staring in fascination at the spectacle of their Luna being publicly humiliated.
"Beta Daniel," Lawrence commanded, his voice deadly calm now. "Escort Bella to the Luna quarters. She will be moving into the packhouse immediately."
Bella's triumphant smile cut through me like a knife as she handed the pup to Margaret and followed Daniel from the hall.
"As for you," Lawrence said, turning back to me with cold eyes, "you will be relocated to the Omega quarters until I decide what to do with you."
Two Delta warriors stepped forward, gripping my arms roughly.
"Take her away," Lawrence ordered. "She is no longer Luna of this pack."
The last thing I saw before they dragged me from the hall was Margaret cradling the pup close, whispering something to Bella as they watched me being taken away.
The Omega quarters were little more than a damp basement at the far edge of pack territory. As the warriors shoved me through the door and locked it behind me, I collapsed to my knees on the cold concrete floor.
My wolf howled in agony, the incomplete rejection tearing at us both. I could still feel Lawrence's mate bond pulling at me, even as my heart shattered into a million pieces.
"Why?" I whispered to the empty room, tears streaming down my face. "How could you do this to us? To our daughter?"
Only silence answered me as I curled into myself on the floor, my body shaking with sobs that seemed to tear from my very soul.
Somewhere above me, I could hear Lawrence's voice, addressing the pack, restoring order to the ceremony as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just destroyed everything we had built together.
And in that moment, lying on the cold floor of my prison, I made a vow to myself and to my daughter's memory: I would find the truth. No matter what it cost me.
The first attack came through the mind-link three days after my imprisonment. I was curled on the narrow cot in my Omega cell, trying to sleep away the pain of Lawrence's betrayal, when suddenly voices flooded my head.
"Poor Luna Evie," Margaret's voice dripped with false sympathy. "So consumed by grief she couldn't even care for her own pup properly."
I sat bolt upright, my hands flying to my head. The mind-link was normally a blessing—a way for pack members to communicate across distances—but now it felt like poison seeping into my brain.
"I heard she neglected little Emma," Bella's voice joined in, her tone honey-sweet with malice. "Too busy with Luna duties to notice the poor thing was sick."
"That's right," Margaret continued. "A proper mother would have sensed her pup's distress. But Evie's wolf is so weak..."
I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to block the voices, but they only grew stronger. The pack's collective consciousness was turning against me, one whispered lie at a time.
"Did you see her at the ceremony?" Bella's voice again. "Completely unhinged. Accusing Lawrence of such terrible things."
"Her wolf went rabid after Emma died," Margaret replied. "Grief does terrible things to weak minds."
I screamed into my pillow, my body shaking with rage and despair. My wolf howled inside me, clawing desperately to reach the surface, to defend us against these lies.
---
The physical attacks began soon after.
"Omega trash," a Delta warrior sneered, shoving a tray of slop through the slot in my door. "Eat your filth like the rest of the omegas."
I ignored him, focusing instead on the small window near the ceiling of my cell. Through it, I could see a sliver of the night sky, the moon rising over the trees.
"Talking to yourself again?" Another voice, accompanied by laughter. "Just like a rabid wolf. No wonder your pup died."
My head snapped up, my eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't you dare speak of her."
The warrior grinned, enjoying my reaction. "They're saying you killed her yourself. That your wolf went crazy and—"
I lunged at the door, my body slamming against it with enough force to make it rattle in its frame. "I would die before harming my pup!"
The warrior jumped back, startled by my sudden movement, then laughed again. "See? Completely unhinged."
They left me alone after that, but the damage was done. Each visit brought new taunts, new accusations, each one cutting deeper than the last.
But something was changing inside me. My wolf, once subdued by grief, was growing stronger, more alert. She prowled restlessly within my consciousness, her instincts sharpening with each passing day.
*Something's wrong,* she whispered. *Our pup didn't just get sick.*
"What do you mean?" I asked aloud, my voice echoing in the empty cell.
*The scent. The timing. It wasn't natural.*
I closed my eyes, trying to remember that terrible day. The way Emma had suddenly collapsed, her small body convulsing. The strange, bitter smell in her room that I'd dismissed as medicine.
"It wasn't an illness," I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. "Someone did this to her."
---
I began watching the night patrol routes from my window. Three warriors, circling the packhouse in a predictable pattern. Every two hours, they passed beneath my window, their footsteps heavy on the damp earth.
"Alpha wants extra security around the medical wing," I heard one say as they passed beneath my window. "Something about sensitive research."
My heart raced. The medical wing—where Dr. Sarah kept all the pack's medical records. Including Emma's.
"Think the Luna was right?" another voice asked. "About the Alpha's new pup?"
"Shut up," the third warrior growled. "That's not our place to discuss."
I pressed my face against the cool glass, memorizing their route. Two hours between patrols. A fifteen-minute overlap when the shift changed.
My fingers traced the lock on my cell door. Basic mechanism. Easy to pick with the hairpin I'd kept hidden in my sock.
"You're planning something dangerous," my wolf warned, but there was approval in her voice.
"I need to know what really happened to Emma," I whispered back.
I watched the moon rise higher in the night sky, marking time. Soon, very soon, I would have my chance.
The medical records would tell me everything—what really killed my daughter, and who was responsible.
And when I found out, not even Lawrence's Alpha command would stop me from seeking justice.