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.

I ran through the forest, my breath ragged, until I reached the Alpha house. I wiped the blood and rogue filth from my face with a shaky hand, straightening my clothes as much as I could. The phone was still warm in my fist, its screen cracked but the message scrawled on it clear: *She's heading to the North Border. Make it look like an accident. Payment sent. - D.*

The dinner was in full swing when I burst through the doors. Laughter died instantly. Daphne’s painted face drained of color. Maddox’s eyes narrowed into slits of irritation. The Elders stopped mid-bite, their antlers casting jagged shadows across the long banquet table.

I stormed down the aisle between the ranks of pack members, my knife held high. They parted like a divided sea, some with pity, others with disdain. It didn’t matter. I crashed to a halt in front of the table, slamming the phone onto the polished wood. The room erupted in whispers.

“She did this,” I shouted, my voice raw with fury and pain. “Daphne, you sent those rogues! You’ve been poisoning me, manipulating everyone! I was your sister, your *family*—”

Daphne’s eyes went wide with faux innocence. She placed a delicate hand over her heart, her lips trembling. A single tear traced her perfectly made-up cheek.

“Mentally unstable,” she sobbed, shaking her head. “You were in a coma for three years, Maya! Of course, you’re crazy now. I’ve tried to be your friend, to help you, and this is how you repay me? You’re *mentally unstable*!”

Maddox stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. His aura flared, a hot, searing wall that pushed against my chest and nearly made me double over. I gritted my teeth, holding his gaze despite the pressure.

“Enough,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. He stepped around the table, his eyes never leaving mine. “You are a disruption, Maya. A liability. You will return to your room and stay there until the Luna Ceremony. There, you will kneel and submit to Daphne in front of the entire pack. This charade ends now.”

My heart pounded in my chest. “You can’t do this! I have proof—”

“I am the Alpha,” he interrupted, his voice rising. “And I say you are the one who needs to be contained. You will do as you’re told, or I will have no choice but to imprison you until the Ceremony. Choose wisely.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but his aura surged, a physical force that knocked the air out of my lungs. I staggered back, my vision blurring at the edges. The room seemed to tilt. I swallowed hard, forcing my legs to hold me up. There was no way I could fight him now, not with his Alpha Voice roaring in my skull.

With a defeated nod, I turned on my heel. I could feel Daphne’s smug eyes on my back, the weight of the pack’s judgment like a shroud. I slipped out of the dining hall and down the corridor to my room, my broken arm hanging uselessly at my side.

Slamming the door behind me, I locked it and slid down to the floor, my back against the heavy wood. My chest heaved with ragged breaths. I couldn’t believe it. Maddox, my mate, the father of my child, had chosen Daphne over me. Again. And again. And again.

A soft click made me look up. Seven stood in the doorway, his small face lit by the dim light of the hallway. He hesitated, his eyes flicking to the door, then back to me.

“M-Mom?” he said, his voice tentative.

I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, to beg him to understand. But the words died in my throat as he took a hesitant step forward.

“Stay back, Seven,” I rasped, my voice breaking. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He stopped, his brow furrowing. “Why would you—”

“I’m a bad person, Seven,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I can’t... I can’t do what they want. I won’t. I love you, baby. But I can’t do it.”

His face crumpled, and he turned and ran, his small feet pounding against the hallway floor. I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face, as the sound of his retreating footsteps echoed in the silence.

The final piece of my heart broke off, and with it came a resolve as hard and unyielding as the Severing Ceremony itself. I would not submit. I would not vanish. But I would disappear, and I would do it on my own terms.

The drumbeats of the Luna Ceremony echoed through the floorboards of my prison, a steady, mocking rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart. They were preparing to crown her. They were preparing to watch me kneel.

I looked at the small pile of dirt and crushed leaves on the floor. It was a pathetic arsenal—mud from the potted plant in the corner, mixed with the pungent herbs I’d swiped from the kitchen scraps before they locked me in. Sage, rosemary, and a dash of something rotting. It smelled vile, but it was my only hope. I stripped off my shirt, shivering in the cool air, and began to smear the paste over my skin.

*Hide the scent. Become invisible.*

The door rattled.

"Dinner, traitor," a gruff voice muttered. It was Paul, an Omega guard who used to beg for my help with his sick mother. Now, he wouldn't even look me in the eye.

As the lock clicked, I pressed myself flat against the wall behind the door. Paul stepped in, balancing a tray with a bowl of watery stew. He took two steps, scanning the empty bed.

"What the—"

I didn't hesitate. I grabbed the heavy ceramic vase from the side table and brought it down on the back of his head. It wasn't a lethal blow—I wasn't Daphne—but it was enough. He crumpled with a soft grunt, the stew splashing onto the floorboards.

"I'm sorry, Paul," I whispered, my hands shaking as I stripped him of his oversized, rough-spun cloak. I pulled it over my mud-smeared body, the hood casting a deep shadow over my face. It smelled of wet dog and stale tobacco, perfect for masking whatever scent I had left.

I slipped into the hallway. The pack house was vibrating with energy. Everyone was outside, gathered around the ceremonial bonfire. I could hear Maddox’s voice booming over the crowd, his Alpha tone strong and commanding. He was praising her. He was erasing me.

Keep your head down. Walk with purpose, but not too fast.

I navigated the back corridors, slipping past the kitchens where the staff was too busy plating roasted venison to notice a hooded figure. I made it to the garage, my breath hitching in my throat. The sleek luxury cars were gone, likely parked near the stage for the VIPs. But in the corner, under a tarp, sat the old supply truck. It was a rusted beast we used for hauling lumber, loud and temperamental.

Perfect.

The keys were under the visor, just where old Beta Jim always left them. The engine roared to life with a cough of black smoke. I didn't wait for the guards to investigate the noise. I slammed my foot on the gas, tearing out of the garage and swerving onto the back service road.

"Hey! Stop!" a voice shouted from the perimeter, but I was already gone, gravel spraying behind me.

As I sped toward the border, the mate bond in my chest began to scream. It wasn't just emotional pain; it was physical, a tearing sensation as if hooks were embedded in my heart, pulling me back to him. Back to Maddox. My soul knew I was leaving my other half behind, even if he didn't want me.

*Turn back,* a tiny, traitorous voice whispered. *He's your mate. You can't survive without him.*

"Watch me," I gritted out, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn't wipe them away. I let the pain fuel me.

The border bridge loomed ahead—the crossing into the Neutral Zone, and beyond that, the Royal Lycan Territory. A firework exploded in the sky behind me, a brilliant burst of gold and red. The coronation had begun. Daphne was Luna now.

I slammed the truck across the bridge just as the sky lit up again. The bond snapped—not fully severed, but stretched to its absolute limit, leaving me hollow and gasping for air. But I was free.

***

Meanwhile, back at the Silverclaw Pack, the celebration was descending into chaos.

Maddox stood on the raised dais, Daphne clinging to his arm like a decorative vine. She looked radiant in white silk, waving to the cheering crowd. But Maddox’s wolf was pacing inside him, agitated. He felt a phantom pain in his chest, a sudden hollowness he couldn't explain.

Before he could place the moonstone crown on Daphne’s head, a commotion erupted near the edge of the clearing. Several warriors dragged a man into the firelight. He was filthy, smelling of gasoline and fear—a rogue.

"Alpha!" the lead warrior shouted, shoving the rogue to his knees. "We caught this filth trying to sabotage the perimeter generators."

Maddox descended the stairs, his irritation spiking. "On tonight of all nights? Dispose of him."

"Wait," the rogue wheezed, looking up. His eyes widened as they landed on Daphne. "You... you promised!"

Daphne froze. The smile slid off her face like melting wax. "I don't know this trash. Kill him, Maddox!"

Maddox paused. He recognized the rogue’s scent. It was faint, buried under years of grime, but it was there. This was the driver. The one who had swerved into their car three years ago. The accident that put Maya in a coma.

"Hold," Maddox commanded, his voice dropping an octave into the Alpha growl that made the ground tremble. He grabbed the rogue by the throat, lifting him off his knees. "I remember you."

"Please!" the rogue choked out, clawing at Maddox’s hand. "I did the job! I ran the Luna off the road! She paid me!"

The music died. The cheering stopped. A silence so heavy it felt suffocating fell over the pack.

Maddox’s grip tightened. "Who paid you?"

"Her!" The rogue pointed a shaking finger at the woman in white standing frozen on the stage. "The sister! Daphne! She paid me to kill Maya!"

Maddox released the rogue, letting him drop to the dirt. He turned slowly toward the stage. The bond he thought he felt for Daphne, the connection she had manipulated and manufactured, seemed to dissolve under the weight of the truth.

Daphne took a step back, her hands trembling. "Maddox, baby, he's lying. It's a trick. Maya probably sent him to ruin my night!"

But Maddox wasn't listening. The hollow ache in his chest suddenly made sense. He turned his gaze toward the dark forest, toward the road leading away from the pack. The wind shifted, carrying the faint, fading scent of rust and old sage.

Maya was gone.