Marcus Webb started following me on Tuesday.

I noticed him in the rearview mirror when I left the packhouse that morning. Silver sedan, two cars back, keeping pace but not close enough to look obvious. He thought he was subtle. He was not.

Stefan's Beta. Of course. Stefan needed proof I was doing something wrong—meeting with rival Alphas, mishandling pack funds, sleeping with rogues, anything he could twist into grounds for a fault-based rejection. Marcus was his eyes.

I drove to my attorney's office. I sat in the waiting room for forty minutes, reviewed three contracts I did not need to review, and drove home. Marcus followed the entire way. When I pulled into my driveway, he idled at the corner for five seconds before moving on.

Lila snarled inside me. *Rip his throat out.*

I rubbed my mother's ring and went inside.

By Thursday, Eva had reassigned my allies.

Clara, who had run the pack's charity fund with me for two years, sent me a short email. She was stepping back. Personal reasons. I knew what that meant. Eva had gotten to her. Probably offered her something—a better position, access to Stefan's inner circle, the promise that loyalty to the new Luna would be rewarded.

Then it was Jordan, who coordinated our perimeter patrols. Then Simone, who handled pack finances. One by one, the wolves I had worked with, trained with, trusted, sent their polite messages and stopped returning my calls.

I did not fight it. I replied to every email with the same two sentences: *I understand. Best of luck.*

What I did do was keep a file. Names. Dates. Who said what, and when. If Stefan wanted to play the long game, I would play it longer.

Friday afternoon, I was in my car outside the packhouse when I overheard two younger wolves talking near the side entrance. They did not see me.

"Eva says the coastal bid is going through next month," one of them said. Male, maybe twenty. "Stefan's putting up serious money. Allied packs are backing him."

"That's Greene territory, isn't it?" the other one asked.

"Was. Not anymore. Once Stefan controls it, Gabrielle's inheritance is landlocked. She'll have land she can't even access."

They laughed. Then they went inside.

I sat very still.

The coastal territory. My mother had secured it in the trust specifically because it bordered three major trade routes. Controlling it meant controlling access to half the region's pack commerce. If Stefan took it, everything else I inherited would be worthless.

I pulled out my phone and texted my attorney. *Prepare the inheritance clause. I want it ready to file the moment I say go.*

His reply came back in under a minute. *Understood.*

I did not file it yet. Timing mattered. If I moved too early, Stefan would have time to counter. If I waited too long, the bid would close and the damage would be done.

So I waited.

By Sunday, I could not stand the packhouse anymore. The walls felt like they were closing in. Every corner held a memory of Stefan—his hand on my back at pack dinners, his voice in my ear during meetings, the way he used to pull me into his office just to kiss me when no one was looking.

All of it fake. All of it calculated.

I got in my car and drove.

I did not have a destination. I just needed distance. I ended up at a bar on the edge of town, a place called The Ember. It was pack-affiliated but neutral ground—visiting Alphas used it when they were in the region, and the owner kept it clean and quiet.

I pulled into the lot just as the sun started to set. The sky was orange and bruised purple, and the air smelled like rain that had not fallen yet.

I turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, hands on the wheel, trying to decide if I actually wanted to go inside or if I just wanted to sit in the parking lot until dark.

A knock on the window made me jump.

I turned.

A young wolf stood outside my door, smiling. He wore a dark jacket that looked a size too big and a name tag that said *Valet*. His hair was slightly messy, like he had been running his hands through it, and his eyes were warm and brown and completely unguarded.

"Evening," he said through the glass. His voice was muffled but friendly. "You need me to park this for you?"

I hesitated. Then I rolled down the window.

The scent hit me like a fist.

Cedar. Rain. Something else underneath it, something I could not name but that made Lila surge forward so hard I had to grip the steering wheel to keep still. It was old. Ancient. It smelled like forests that had never been cut and rivers that had run for a thousand years.

My wolf screamed. *Mate. Mate. Mate.*

No.

I shoved her down so hard she yelped. My hands tightened on the wheel until my knuckles went white.

The young wolf did not seem to notice. He just kept smiling, easy and warm, like he had all the time in the world.

"You okay?" he asked.

I forced my face into something neutral. "Fine."

"You sure? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I said I'm fine."

He held up both hands, still smiling. "Alright. No problem." He stepped back and opened my door for me. "Keys?"

I got out. My legs felt unsteady, but I kept my spine straight. I dropped the keys into his hand without looking at him directly.

"Thank you," I said.

He gave a small, slightly too-formal bow that would have been ridiculous on anyone else but somehow worked on him. "My pleasure, miss."

Then he looked up, and our eyes met.

For half a second, something shifted in his expression. The warmth stayed, but underneath it I saw something else—something sharper, more focused, like he was reading me the way I read contracts.

Then it was gone.

He slid into my car, adjusted the seat, and drove toward the valet lot.

I stood there in the middle of the parking lot, breathing through my nose, trying to get the scent out of my head.

Lila whined. *Go after him. Go after him now.*

*No,* I told her. *We are not doing this.*

*He is ours.*

*Stefan was ours too. Look how that turned out.*

She went quiet. Hurt. I felt it like a bruise inside my chest.

I turned and walked toward the bar entrance.

Behind me, I heard the soft sound of my car door closing. I did not look back.

I went back to The Ember on Tuesday.

I told myself it was because the bar was neutral ground, far enough from the packhouse that Marcus would lose me in traffic if he tried to follow. I told myself I needed a place to think, to review the coastal territory documents without Eva's spies watching over my shoulder.

I did not tell myself it had anything to do with the young wolf with the easy smile and the scent that made Lila claw at my ribs.

The parking lot was half-empty when I pulled in. Dusk again. The sky was the color of a bruise that had not quite healed. I turned off the engine and sat there, hands on the wheel, waiting to see if he would appear.

He did.

The knock on my window came thirty seconds later. Same dark jacket, same slightly messy hair, same warm brown eyes that looked like they had never met a problem they could not charm their way past.

"Evening," he said through the glass. "Back again?"

I rolled down the window. The scent hit me just as hard as it had the first time. Cedar and rain and something ancient I still could not name. Lila surged forward. I shoved her down.

"Keys," I said.

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

I got out. He opened the door for me with that same slightly ridiculous bow, and I dropped the keys into his hand without looking at him directly.

"You know," he said, "most people at least pretend to make eye contact when they hand over their car."

I stopped. Turned. "Excuse me?"

He held up both hands, still grinning. "Just an observation. No offense."

"I'm not here to socialize."

"Clearly." He slid into the driver's seat, adjusted the mirror, and paused. His eyes flicked to the folder on my passenger seat—the one with the coastal territory deeds visible through the clear plastic sleeve. "Heavy reading," he said lightly.

I said nothing.

He drove my car toward the valet lot. I walked into the bar.

I ordered coffee. Black. I sat in the corner booth with my back to the wall and spread the territory documents across the table. The inheritance clause my mother had buried in the trust was elegant in its simplicity: any contested Greene family land could be reclaimed by a direct heir if the claim was filed within sixty days of an external bid closing. Stefan's coastal bid was set to close in forty-two days.

I had time. Not much. But enough.

Footsteps approached the booth. I looked up.

The young wolf stood there, hands in his jacket pockets, head tilted slightly like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe I can help you."

I closed the folder. "I didn't ask for help."

"No." He slid into the seat across from me without waiting for permission. "But you look like you need it."

Lila purred. I ignored her.

"You're a valet," I said flatly. "What could you possibly help me with?"

He leaned back, arms draped over the booth like he owned it. "I'm a valet who parks cars for visiting Alphas. Which means I hear things. See things. Learn things most wolves don't."

I studied him. His posture was too relaxed for someone speaking to a Luna—even a rejected one. His eyes were too sharp for someone who was supposed to be nobody.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like the fact that Alpha Voss has been meeting with Alphas Crane and Halford at least twice a week for the past month. Always late at night. Always off-pack territory. And always with briefcases that look a lot heavier going in than coming out."

My fingers stilled on the edge of the folder.

"How do you know that?" I asked quietly.

He shrugged. "I park their cars. I keep my ears open. It's not complicated."

"And you're telling me this because?"

"Because you look like someone who could use the information. And because I'm good at finding things out." He leaned forward slightly. "You need someone discreet. Someone who can move around without drawing attention. Someone who doesn't belong to any pack and doesn't owe anyone loyalty."

I should have said no. I should have told him to go back to his valet station and stay out of my business.

Instead, I said, "What's your name?"

"Connor."

"Connor what?"

He smiled. "Just Connor."

I opened the folder again. Pulled out a pen. Wrote a number on the corner of a blank page, tore it off, and slid it across the table.

"This is what I pay per week," I said. "You drive me where I need to go. You find out what I need to know. You don't ask questions about why. And you don't tell anyone—anyone—that you work for me."

He picked up the paper. His eyebrows went up. "That's generous."

"It's fair. Do you want the job or not?"

He folded the paper and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "I want the job."

"Good." I stood. "I'll text you tomorrow with the first assignment."

He stood too. Held out his hand.

I looked at it. Then at him.

"We're working together now," he said. "Might as well make it official."

I took his hand. His grip was warm and steady, and the moment our palms touched, Lila threw herself at my ribs so hard I almost gasped.

Connor's smile did not waver. But something in his eyes shifted. Just for a second. Something that looked almost like recognition.

I pulled my hand back.

"Tomorrow," I said.

"Tomorrow," he agreed.

I walked out of the bar without looking back. But I felt his eyes on me the entire way to the door.

The invitation arrived on thick cream paper, embossed with gold lettering that caught the afternoon light. I held it between two fingers and read it twice.

*The Annual Autumn Moon Banquet. Hosted by the Regional Pack Council. Estate grounds at Silvercrest Manor. Formal attire required.*

Lila stirred inside me. *We are not going.*

*We are,* I told her. *Stefan will be there. Eva will be there. Every Alpha in the region will be there. If I don't show, it looks like I'm hiding.*

She growled but did not argue.

I set the invitation on my desk and pulled out my phone. Texted Connor. *Need background on Silvercrest Manor. Who owns it. Who runs security. Everything.*

His reply came back in under a minute. *On it.*

Two hours later, my phone buzzed. I opened the message.

*Silvercrest Manor. Built 1847. Renovated 2003. Owned by Lycan Holdings LLC. Security handled by private Lycan contract firm. Estate sits on Lycan-protected land. Neutral ground by treaty.*

I read it twice. Lycan-owned. That explained why the Regional Pack Council could host there without any single Alpha claiming territorial advantage. Lycan land was untouchable. Sacred. No Alpha would risk offending the Lycan throne by starting trouble on their property.

I texted back. *Good work.*

*You going?*

*Yes.*

*Want me there?*

I hesitated. Then typed, *Valet capacity only. Stay invisible.*

*Understood.*

I set the phone down and stared at the invitation again. Stefan would use this. I knew he would. The banquet was the perfect stage—every regional Alpha watching, every Luna whispering, every alliance on display. He would position Eva at his side, show the world his chosen mate, and make sure I looked like exactly what he wanted me to look like: a rejected she-wolf with no standing and no future.

Let him try.

I opened my laptop and pulled up the guest list Connor had sent me last week. Alphas Crane and Halford would both be there. The same two Alphas Stefan had been meeting with in secret, the ones funding his coastal territory bid. If I could get close enough to hear what they were planning, I might be able to find leverage.

I made a list. Who to approach. Who to avoid. Which tables to pass. Which hallways to use.

Lila paced inside me. *This feels wrong.*

*Everything feels wrong lately,* I told her.

She did not argue.

Stefan stood in his office with the door locked.

Marcus was there. Eva was there. And a third man I did not recognize—thin, nervous, wearing a server's uniform under a dark jacket.

I knew because Connor had sent me a photo twenty minutes ago. He had been parked outside the packhouse, waiting to drive an visiting elder back to his hotel, when he saw the three of them slip in through the side entrance. He took the shot through a gap in the blinds.

I zoomed in on the image now, studying the server's face. Young. Maybe mid-twenties. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and his shoulders were hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller.

*Who is he?* I texted Connor.

*Banquet staff. Name's Eric Lowe. Works part-time for the catering company. No pack affiliation. Clean record.*

*Why is he meeting with Stefan?*

*That's the question.*

I stared at the photo. Stefan's expression was calm, controlled. Eva stood beside him with her arms crossed, watching the server like she was evaluating a purchase. Marcus had his arms folded too, but his posture was different—tense, coiled, like he was ready to move.

Whatever they were planning, it involved that server. And it involved the banquet.

I saved the photo and opened a new folder on my laptop. Labeled it *Banquet—Evidence.* Dropped the image inside.

Lila whined. *We should not go.*

*We are going,* I told her again. *And we are going to be ready.*

The next night, Connor texted me at eleven.

*Need to talk. In person.*

I frowned at the screen. He had never asked for an in-person meeting this late before. Everything we discussed, we discussed over text or in my car between jobs.

*Where?* I typed.

*The Ember. Back lot. Twenty minutes.*

I grabbed my jacket and keys. Lila was on edge the entire drive, pacing and growling low in my chest. By the time I pulled into the back lot behind The Ember, my hands were tight on the wheel.

Connor was already there, leaning against the side of the building with his hands in his jacket pockets. He straightened when he saw me.

I got out. "What is it?"

He glanced around the empty lot, then stepped closer. His voice dropped. "Stefan's planning something for the banquet. Something bad."

"I know he's planning something. He's always planning something."

"Not like this." Connor's jaw tightened. "I heard things tonight. From a contact who works estate security. Stefan bribed a server. Guy named Eric Lowe. He's going to spike your drink."

The air went cold.

"Spike it with what?" I asked quietly.

"Wolfsbane compound. Sedative blend. Enough to knock you out for an hour, maybe two. And while you're out, they're going to stage something."

"Stage what?"

Connor's eyes met mine. "A hired rogue. Positioned near you in one of the private alcoves. Stefan's allies will 'find' you together. At the biggest pack event of the year. In front of every Alpha in the region."

Lila snarled so loud I felt it in my teeth.

I breathed through my nose. Once. Twice. "You're sure."

"I'm sure."

"Who's your contact?"

"Someone I trust."

"That's not an answer."

Connor stepped closer. His voice was low and steady. "Gabrielle. I'm telling you this because you need to know. You don't have to trust my source. But you need to trust me."

I stared at him. His eyes were calm. Serious. No trace of the easy charm he usually wore like a jacket.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Don't go."

"No."

"Gabrielle—"

"No." I stepped back. "If I don't go, Stefan wins. He gets to tell every Alpha in the region that I was too afraid to show my face. That I'm broken. That I'm nothing."

"If you go, he drugs you and destroys you."

"Not if I'm ready." I pulled my keys from my pocket. "I'll watch my drink. I won't let it out of my sight. I'll stay in public spaces. I'll leave early if I have to."

Connor's jaw worked. "That's not enough."

"It's going to have to be."

I turned toward my car. His hand caught my wrist. Not hard. Just enough to stop me.

"Gabrielle," he said quietly. "Let me help."

I looked down at his hand. Then up at his face. "You are helping. You told me. That's enough."

"It's not."

I pulled my wrist free. "I'll see you at the banquet. Valet capacity. Like we agreed."

I got in my car and drove away. In the rearview mirror, I saw him standing in the empty lot, hands in his pockets, watching me go.

Lila whimpered. *He is trying to protect us.*

*I know,* I told her.

*Then why did you leave?*

Because I could not let him fight this for me. Because if I let someone else step in every time Stefan made a move, I would never be strong enough to stand on my own.

Because I was terrified that if I let Connor too close, I would start to need him.

And I could not afford to need anyone ever again.