The smoke cleared. The red glow of the emergency lights painted the ruins in shades of blood.

Slade stood in the center of the altar, facing a formidable Alpha of equal stature.

Killian Thorne, Rosalind's father, the Alpha of the Thorne Pack.

"I need an explanation," Killian's accusatory voice rang out. "My daughter nearly died on your territory."

"The attackers will pay the price. Every last rogue will be hunted down," Slade replied.

"Not enough."

Killian's gaze swept across the chaos, finally settling on me where I was propped up against a stone pillar.

"That human," he pointed a finger at me from across the square. "She is your weakness. She distracted you at a critical moment."

However absurd, the powerful always need a scapegoat.

Killian took a step forward, the clash of their Alpha auras sparking in the air.

"Our alliance is built on strength. An Alpha who allows a human to interfere with his judgment is not trustworthy. Unless..."

He delivered his ultimatum.

"Eliminate this liability before the official marking ceremony. Otherwise, the Thorne Pack withdraws its support, and our alliance is void."

Slade was silent.

The moment seemed to stretch on forever.

Finally, he slowly turned. The last flicker of conflict in his eyes died out, replaced by the cold logic of a ruler.

He called for Lucas, his voice low, yet it hit me harder than the wolf venom. "Begin the operation. The target is Eloise Vance."

Tears I didn't know I had left to cry streamed down my face, mixing with the taste of blood in my mouth.

The ultimate tragedy was this: I wasn't defeated by another woman, but by his own ambition and his so-called greater good.

My broken body was all but dragged to the herb garden I once treasured.

It had been my sanctuary. I never imagined it would become my grave.

Rosalind was already waiting for me.

She stood before the ruined Moonlight Flower bed, holding an exquisite silver dagger.

Behind her stood two burly werewolf enforcers.

"Slade told me to purify this place. Since you have to die, you might as well die in the place you loved most."

"And don't blame him," she said. "For the future of the pack, a stain like you must be cleansed."

She waved a hand. "Do it. Make it look like an accident."

The two werewolves closed in on me.

In their eyes, I was just a lamb to the slaughter.

But I wasn't.

I am a healer. I know how to save lives, which means I know even better how to take them.

From a hidden pocket in my dress, I pulled out two pre-filled syringes.

They contained a specially prepared, high-concentration dose of a powerful anesthetic.

As the first enforcer lunged, I endured the searing pain of my broken ribs and twisted, plunging the needle precisely into his carotid artery.

He collapsed without a sound, a boneless heap on the ground.

The second enforcer froze for a split second. I used the opening to jab the other syringe deep into his thigh muscle.

Rosalind screamed and stumbled backward, her delicate face twisted in fear.

"You... you used poison! You're insane!"

"You killed them!"

She brandished the dagger wildly, accidentally nicking her own arm.

Blood welled up.

I picked up the daggers the two enforcers had dropped and stood up straight, covered in blood. "It's an anesthetic. I haven't killed them."

"Help! Slade! Help me!"

Rosalind suddenly began to wail, clutching her arm. "Eloise has gone mad! She's trying to kill me!"

I scoffed. What a masterful actress.

Pack enforcers in their wolf forms rushed in, their growls vibrating through the ground as they circled me.

Slade strode over. He saw the two unconscious pack members on the ground and the trembling, bleeding Rosalind.

Finally, he saw me, holding a dagger.

This time, his eyes were utterly frozen.

Rosalind threw herself into his arms, sobbing hysterically. "She tried to kill me! She said she was going to poison everyone who ever took you from her! Slade, I'm so scared..."

Slade held her, his gaze falling on the "weapon" in my hand.

"Eloise!"

"You dare to harm the future Luna?"

He condemned me without giving me a chance to speak.

"Lucas," he summoned his Beta.

"Yes, Alpha."

"She has offended the future Luna, poisoned members of the pack, and attempted murder within our territory."

"By the Old Laws, prepare the Ritual of Shame."

Lucas's face went white. "Alpha... are you sure?"

"The Mark of the Hunted will erase her pack scent, making her the primary target for every rogue and predator for miles around."

"Throwing an unprotected human into the wilderness with that mark... that's a death sentence."

I lay in the dirt, looking up at the Alpha who had once promised to protect me for life.

Our gazes met for a fleeting second before he spoke the words that condemned me.

"She is a healer. She has ways to survive. She won't die."

"But she needs to learn her lesson. She needs to know her place."

"Prepare the ritual. Immediately."

Rosalind's crying stopped. A triumphant sneer curled her lips.

Ten minutes later, the pack square was full. I was forced onto the stone platform in the center.

My ribs screamed in protest. Every movement was agony.

Below me was a sea of faces, many of whom I had once saved.

But now, their eyes held nothing but a feverish desire for a spectacle.

Lucas ascended the platform carrying a heavy stone basin, his hands trembling slightly.

It was filled with a thick, black liquid that reeked of rot and sulfur.

The Water of Shame.

Once it touched me, it would leave the indelible Mark of the Hunted, turning me into a living target.

For miles around, rogues and wild beasts would be drawn to my scent, hunting me relentlessly until I was dead.

Rosalind stood in the front row, her face flushed with excitement. "Slade, hurry up. I want to see her crawl away like a stray dog."

Slade walked to the stone basin. He reached out his hand, his fingertips hovering over the black liquid.

One touch to smear it on my forehead, and it would all be over.

Everyone in the square waited for this final moment.

"Eloise Vance," his voice, amplified, echoed across the square. "You have betrayed the pack and attempted murder. Do you confess?"

I lay on the ground, struggling to lift my head, but I managed a scornful smile.

A muscle twitched in Slade's jaw. I saw his fingers tremble, fighting against an order he was forcing himself to give.

One second. Two.

Rosalind urged from below, "Slade? What are you waiting for?"

Slade's eyes snapped shut.

The next second, his hand suddenly changed direction.

He bypassed the stone basin entirely, reaching instead for a nearly forgotten wooden bowl filled with clear water.

It was water from the Moonlight Well, used only for the simple revoking of pack protection.

"Alpha?" Lucas stared at him in shock. "That's the water for revoking pack protection, not for the Mark of the Hunted..."

Slade ignored everyone.

He dipped his fingers in the clear water and strode over to me.

His cold fingers drew a cross on my feverish forehead.

"Consider this my last act of mercy, Eloise," he whispered, his expression unreadable.

"From this moment on, Eloise Vance is no longer under the protection of the Blackwood pack! She is stripped of all status and exiled from these lands!"

"Neither pack nor prey. Now, get out."

Fine. He hadn't sentenced me to death. He had just thrown me away.

Rosalind, furious, tried to rush the stage but was held back by Lucas.

Two strong guards hauled me up and dragged me through the crowd.

As I was thrown hard onto the rough asphalt road, I heard the thunderous boom of the main gates closing behind me.

I lay on the asphalt, coughing up a mouthful of blood, just as a black Maybach glided silently to a stop in front of me.

The window rolled down, revealing a man with sharp eyes. It was Professor Sterling's personal assistant.

"Get in, Doctor Vance. Your lab coat has arrived."

I used my last ounce of strength to climb into the car. On the seat was a new identity package.

A top-tier security clearance badge, a passport, and a contract for the National Institute's most classified project.

The name on the ID read: Dr. Eloise Vance, Lead Geneticist. Project: Lycan Genome.

"And this," the assistant handed me a new encrypted phone. "The Director is waiting for you. The research you're about to lead will change the future of all werewolf kind. Including... them."

"Ironic, isn't it? Your Alpha has been sending us applications every month, begging for a slot in this very research program to cure their bloodline defects."

I took the phone. Then I pulled out the old one I had always carried with me.

The pinned contact was still labeled "My Alpha."

The photo was of him, asleep in the moonlight.

I stared at the name, then deleted the contact. I pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in two, and threw the pieces out the window with all my strength.

Goodbye, Slade. You just exiled the only person who holds the key to your pack's evolution.