The first thing I noticed wasn't the pain, or the blinding white light of the hospital room. It was the silence.

For any werewolf, the mind is a crowded place. There is always the hum of the pack link, a distant buzz of voices and emotions, and closer than that, the presence of the inner wolf. She is usually a constant companion, a second soul scratching at the back of my consciousness. But as I blinked my eyes open, staring at the sterile ceiling tiles, there was nothing. Just a hollow, echoing void.

"Hello?" I tried to speak, but my voice was a rusted hinge. I reached inward, panic rising in my chest like bile. *Wolf? Are you there?*

Nothing. No growl, no whimper. It was as if half my soul had been gouged out.

I tried to sit up, but my muscles had atrophied. A nurse bustled in, checking the monitors with efficient, cold movements. She didn't bow. She didn't bare her neck in submission. She didn't even smile.

"The patient is awake," she muttered into a headset, not looking at me. "Notify Alpha Maddox."

"I am your Luna," I rasped, the disrespect stinging almost as much as the physical weakness. "Why do you call me that?"

She finally looked at me, her eyes flat. "You've been asleep for three years, Maya. Titles change."

Three years. The words hit me like a physical blow. I had missed three years of my life. My son, Seven... he was three when the car crashed. He would be six now.

The door opened, and the scent hit me before the man did. But it wasn't the scent of pine and rain that usually clung to my mate. It was cloying vanilla and synthetic roses—Daphne's perfume. It was all over him.

"Maddox," I breathed, relief warring with confusion. I waited for him to rush to my side, to engulf me in his warmth, to let the sparks of the mate bond heal me.

He didn't move from the doorway.

Alpha Maddox, the man who had once sworn to burn the world for me, stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His aura, usually a warm blanket, felt like a stone wall. There was no joy in his eyes, only a weary irritation.

"You're awake," he said flatly.

"Maddox, I can't feel my wolf," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. "I can't feel the pack link."

He walked over to the bed but stopped a few feet away, out of reach. "The doctor said the trauma was severe. Your wolf has gone dormant, Maya. You are... wolfless."

The word hung in the air like a curse. In our world, a wolfless werewolf was barely above a human. A cripple.

"But I'm still your mate," I said, my voice trembling. "I'm still the Luna."

Maddox looked away, his jaw tightening. "The Silverclaw Pack is strong, Maya. We cannot have a Luna who cannot shift, who cannot hear the pack's needs. For three years, we have moved on. We had to."

"Moved on?" I gripped the thin hospital sheets. "What does that mean?"

"It means that for the sake of stability, I am planning to make Daphne the official Luna," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "She has stepped up. She has cared for the pack. The Moon Goddess... perhaps she made a mistake with our bond. It happens."

A mistake. He was calling our fated bond a mistake because I had been hurt.

Before I could scream, before I could demand he take it back, he turned on his heel. "Get dressed. The car is waiting to take you to the pack house. You can rest there."

The drive back was silent. The windows were tinted, hiding the world I had lost. When we pulled up to the Alpha house, it looked wrong. The flower beds I had planted—wildflowers and moon-blooms—were gone, replaced by rigid, manicured rows of red roses. Daphne’s favorite.

I stumbled out of the car, my legs shaking. I didn't care about the house. I didn't care about the title. I just wanted my son.

"Seven!" I called out, my voice cracking.

In the garden, a young boy was playing with a toy wolf. He looked so big. His baby fat was gone, replaced by the lean angles of his father. He froze at the sound of my voice and turned. His eyes, the same shade of hazel as mine, widened.

"Seven, baby, it's Mommy," I sobbed, dropping to my knees and opening my arms. "I'm home."

He didn't run to me. He didn't smile.

Instead, a low, guttural sound ripped from his small throat. He growled at me. It was a sound of pure hostility, an animalistic warning.

"Seven?" I froze, heart shattering.

"Go away!" he screamed, backing up. "You're not my mommy! You're the weak one!"

The front door opened, and Daphne glided out. She looked radiant, her hair perfectly styled, wearing a silk dress that I recognized—it was one Maddox had bought for me years ago. She didn't look at me. She looked at Seven.

"Mommy!" Seven cried out, his face transforming from rage to adoration. He ran past me, swerving to avoid my outstretched hand as if I were contagious, and buried his face in Daphne's skirt.

Daphne rested a manicured hand on his head, smoothing his hair. She looked up at me then, and over the top of my son's head, her lips curled into a slow, victorious smirk.

"Welcome home, sister," she purred, her voice dripping with poison. "We've been doing just fine without you."

The hallway to the Alpha’s study used to be my sanctuary. It was where Maddox and I would review pack treaties late into the night, our legs tangled together under the heavy oak desk. Now, standing before the familiar mahogany door, I felt like a trespasser in my own life.

I reached for the handle, my fingers trembling slightly. I needed my personal documents—my birth certificate, the deed to the small cabin my grandmother left me. If I was going to leave, I needed a way out.

Locked.

The metal mechanism didn't budge. I jiggled it again, frustration rising in my throat. It had never been locked before.

"Looking for something?"

The voice was smooth, like velvet wrapped around a jagged rock. I turned to see Daphne leaning against the doorframe of the adjacent room—the nursery. My nursery.

She looked different than she had three years ago. Her posture was straighter, her chin held high with an arrogance that mimicked an Alpha’s. A strange, pulsating pressure radiated from her—an aura. But it felt wrong. An Alpha’s aura is like the sun, warm and commanding. Hers felt like static electricity, prickly and synthetic. I could smell the faint, bitter undertone of herbs beneath her heavy perfume.

"I need my papers, Daphne," I said, keeping my voice steady despite the hollowness in my chest where my wolf should have been growling. "Open the door."

She laughed, a tinkling sound that grated on my nerves. "Oh, Maya. You really don't get it, do you? That's the Alpha's office now. Private pack business only. And you... well, you're just a guest."

She pushed off the wall and sauntered toward me. "Besides, we're busy redecorating. Maddox and I need the space."

My gaze flickered to the open door behind her. The soft yellow walls I had painted for Seven were gone, covered in a garish royal blue. The crib was new.

"Redecorating?" The word tasted like ash.

"For the future," she said, placing a hand on her flat stomach. The gesture was possessive, deliberate. "Maddox wants a big family. He needs strong pups. Pups that won't... break."

The implication slammed into me. She was talking about replacing Seven. Replacing me.

"You're disgusting," I whispered.

Daphne's smile vanished. She stepped closer, invading my personal space, letting that artificial aura crash against my defenseless human senses. It made me nauseous. "Careful, sister. In this pack, Omegas don't speak to their Luna that way. Be grateful I let you stay in the guest wing instead of the kennels."

She brushed past me, her shoulder checking mine hard enough to make me stumble. "Don't be late for the Run. Maddox hates it when the help is tardy."

***

The weekly Pack Run was a sacred tradition. It was when the pack bonded, running as one organism through the forest, the Alpha and Luna leading the charge.

Today, I stood on the muddy sidelines, shivering in a thin windbreaker. Around me, the Omegas—wolves who had lost their rank or were too weak to hunt—shuffled their feet, keeping their eyes on the ground. This was my place now.

A horn blew, signaling the start.

A massive black wolf burst from the tree line—Maddox. His fur was as dark as a moonless night, his muscles rippling with power. My heart lurched. Even after everything, seeing his wolf form made my soul ache for the connection I had lost.

But he wasn't alone. Right beside him ran a sleek, sandy-colored wolf. Daphne. She wasn't large or particularly fast, but Maddox slowed his pace for her, adjusting his stride so they ran flank-to-flank. At one point, he nudged her shoulder with his snout, a gesture of pure affection.

The pack followed them, a sea of fur and muscle, howling their loyalty. They didn't look at me. They looked at her.

"Maya."

I stiffened. My parents stood behind me. My mother wore a scowl that deepened the lines around her mouth, and my father wouldn't even meet my eyes.

"Mom," I said, hope flaring briefly. "Did you see them? He's... he's parading her around like—"

"Like his mate," my mother cut in sharply. "Which she essentially is."

I stared at her, stunned. "I am his mate. I am your daughter."

"You are wolfless, Maya," my father muttered, kicking at a tuft of grass. "You're an embarrassment. We have a standing in this pack. Daphne has secured our family's position. Don't... don't ruin this for us."

"Ruin it?" My voice cracked. "She stole my life! She's lying to everyone!"

"She stepped up when you were too weak to wake up!" my mother hissed, grabbing my arm. Her grip was bruising. "Do not cause a scene. Do not try to reclaim a status you are too broken to hold. If you love this family, you will stay invisible."

They walked away to join the elders, leaving me standing in the mud, watching the man I loved nuzzle the woman who had destroyed me.

***

I couldn't breathe in that house anymore. Every corner held a memory that Daphne had tainted. I needed it to end. The bond, the pain, the hope—I had to cut it all out.

That evening, I went to Elder Marcus. He was the keeper of the old ways, the one who oversaw the sacred ceremonies.

"The Severing Ceremony?" Marcus raised a bushy gray eyebrow, looking at me over his spectacles. He didn't offer me a seat. "That is a painful process, child. Usually reserved for rejected mates."

"I am rejected," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "In every way that matters."

He smirked, a cruel twisting of lips. "Very well. It seems fitting. We can't have a lingering bond distracting the Alpha from his true future. We'll do it tomorrow night. right before the Luna Ceremony. A clean sweep."

I nodded and fled, feeling sick.

Back at the pack house, I tried to slip upstairs unnoticed, but voices drifted from the Alpha's study. The door was slightly ajar.

"...can't wait much longer, Maddox," Daphne's voice whined. "Her scent... it's stressing the baby. I can feel it."

I froze.

"Shh," Maddox's deep rumble vibrated through the floorboards. I heard the distinct sound of a purr—a deep, chest-rattling sound a wolf only makes for their mate. "I know. Tomorrow night, she'll be severed. Then I can mark you properly. No more distractions."

"Promise?" Daphne cooed.

"I promise," he murmured. "You're the only Luna this pack needs."

Tears finally spilled over, hot and silent. He wasn't being manipulated anymore. He was choosing her. He was choosing to erase me.

I turned and walked away, leaving the ghost of my marriage behind in that room. Tomorrow, I would sever the bond. And then, I would disappear.

My body was burning from the inside out. It started as a dull ache in my stomach, a heaviness that I attributed to grief and stress, but by midday, it had evolved into a searing fire. My hands shook so violently I could barely hold a glass of water, and a cold sweat drenched my clothes despite the chill in the guest room.

Dr. Helena had prescribed these "recovery supplements" the moment I woke up. *To help your human side adjust,* she had said with a tight, professional smile. *To manage the trauma.*

I stared at the small paper cup on the nightstand. Two white pills and a dark, viscous liquid that smelled faintly of licorice. I picked up the cup, my nose wrinkling. Werewolves have heightened senses, even without their wolves, but mine were dull. Still, something about the smell triggered a primal warning bell deep in my brain. It wasn't just medicinal; it was wrong.

I took a tiny sip. The bitterness hit my tongue instantly, sharper than bile, followed by a numbing sensation that spread to my lips. I spat it back into the cup, my heart hammering against my ribs.

*Supplements don't numb your mouth.*

I poured the mixture into the potted plant by the window—a wilting fern that looked as miserable as I felt—and tucked the pills into my pocket. If I was right, I needed proof.

Getting to the pack library was a gauntlet. I had to dodge pitying glances from the cleaning staff and sneers from the warriors guarding the hallways. The library was usually empty this time of day; most wolves preferred the training grounds or the forest. I slipped inside, the scent of old paper and dust offering a brief comfort.

I went straight to the restricted section on herbology. As Luna, I had memorized the codes years ago. My fingers trembled as I punched them into the keypad. *Please still work.* The lock clicked open.

I pulled down a heavy leather-bound volume: *Toxins and Remedies of the Old World*. I flipped through the pages until I found it. The illustration was unmistakable—a dark root that oozed a black sap when cut.

*Suppression Root. Used to dampen the connection between wolf and human. In high doses, causes lethargy, muscle atrophy, and eventual organ failure.*

And right below it: *Wolfsbane. Lethal in large quantities. In small doses, it weakens the wolf spirit, preventing shifting and healing.*

I leaned back against the bookshelf, the book heavy in my lap. They weren't just trying to keep me weak. They were killing my wolf. Dr. Helena wasn't healing me; she was finishing what the accident started.

A cold fury replaced the fear. I wasn't just a rejected mate; I was a target.

I needed to confront Maddox. He had to know. He was the Alpha; he wouldn't allow his pack healer to poison a member of the pack, even a wolfless one.

I tracked his scent—pine and rain, now tainted with Daphne’s vanilla—through the corridors. It led me away from the Alpha office and toward the pack hospital’s VIP wing. My stomach twisted. Was someone hurt?

As I rounded the corner to the waiting room, I froze. The double doors were thrown open, and the room was filled with balloons. Blue and pink balloons. A banner hung crookedly across the nurses' station: *Future of Silverclaw*.

Maddox stood in the center of a cheering crowd of Deltas and high-ranking warriors. He looked... happy. Happier than I had seen him in years. His face was flushed, his eyes bright. And his hand—his large, protective hand—was resting possessively on Daphne’s stomach.

She was glowing, basking in the adoration of the pack. She looked up at him with wide, teary eyes, feigning humility.

"This pup," Maddox’s voice boomed, silencing the room, "will be the strongest Alpha this pack has ever seen. A true heir."

The words were a physical blow. A true heir. As if Seven didn't exist. As if our son wasn't enough.

"Maddox!" The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.

The room went dead silent. Every head turned toward me. Maddox’s smile vanished instantly, replaced by a scowl of annoyance. Daphne’s hand went to her mouth in a theatrical gasp.

"Maya," Maddox growled, stepping in front of Daphne as if to shield her from me. "What are you doing here?"

"She's poisoning me!" I shouted, holding up the pills I had saved. "Dr. Helena—she's giving me Wolfsbane! Look at this!"

A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd. Dr. Helena stepped forward from the back, her face a mask of calm concern. "Alpha, the poor dear is confused. Those are standard iron supplements. Her trauma... it makes her paranoid."

"Paranoid?" I surged forward, but two warriors grabbed my arms, hauling me back. "Test them! Just test the damn pills, Maddox!"

"Enough!" Maddox roared, his Alpha aura flaring, pushing everyone back. He looked at me with cold, hard eyes. "You are disrupting a sacred moment, Maya. You are hysterical."

"I am dying!" I screamed, fighting against the warriors' grip. "She is killing my wolf!"

"Your wolf is already dead," he said cruelly. "Get her out of here. Take her back to her room and lock the door until she calms down."

The warriors dragged me backward. I watched as Daphne leaned into Maddox, whispering something in his ear. He nodded, wrapping his arm around her, turning his back on me completely.

I didn't go back to my room. I couldn't. If I stayed, I was dead.

I waited until the guard outside my door was distracted by a shift change, then I slipped out the window. It was a two-story drop, but I landed in the bushes, scratching my arms and face. Pain didn't matter. Survival did.

I ran toward the borderlands. If I could reach the Red River Pack, Alpha Thomas might help me. He owed my father a debt.

The moon was high, casting long, skeletal shadows through the trees. I was panting, my human lungs burning, my legs heavy. Without my wolf, I was slow. So painfully slow.

I heard the snap of a twig before I smelled them.

Three rogues stepped out from behind the trees, blocking the path. They were filthy, their clothes tattered, their eyes glowing yellow in the dark. They didn't look like random wanderers. They looked like they were waiting.

"Well, look what we have here," the middle one sneered, a scar running down his cheek. "The lost Luna."

"Let me pass," I said, my voice steady despite the terror gripping my heart. I pulled the silver kitchen knife I had swiped from my waistband. It was small, pathetic against three shifters, but it was all I had.

The rogue laughed. "Cute toy. But we're not here to play."

He lunged.

Instinct took over. Not wolf instinct, but muscle memory from years of self-defense training Maddox had insisted on. I dropped low, dodging his claws, and slashed upward. The silver blade caught his thigh, sizzling as it cut through flesh. He howled in pain.

The second rogue attacked from the side. I spun, kicking him hard in the knee, hearing a satisfying crunch. But the third one was faster. He slammed into me, pinning me to the forest floor. His breath smelled of rot and dried blood.

"Die, bitch," he snarled, raising his claws to tear out my throat.

I didn't think. I jammed the knife into the soft spot under his jaw, twisting it with every ounce of strength I had left.

He gurgled, blood spraying over my face, and collapsed on top of me. I shoved his heavy body aside, scrambling backward, chest heaving. The other two, seeing their leader dead, hesitated.

I grabbed the dead rogue's phone—it had fallen from his pocket in the scuffle. The screen was cracked but lit up with a new message.

I stared at the text, the blood on my hands turning cold.

*She's heading to the North Border. Make it look like an accident. Payment sent. - D*

Daphne.

She wasn't just replacing me. She was hunting me.