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.

The ballroom at Silvercrest Manor was exactly what I expected. Crystal chandeliers. Polished marble floors that reflected the candlelight like still water. Long tables draped in ivory linen, each one marked with the crest of a visiting pack. The air smelled like expensive wine and wolf dominance—every Alpha in the region had come to prove they belonged here.

I walked in alone.

I had chosen my dress carefully. Deep emerald silk that skimmed my body without clinging, cut high enough at the neck to look elegant but low enough at the back to remind everyone that I was still a she-wolf worth looking at. My hair was pinned up. My mother's moonstone ring sat on my right hand. No Luna pendant. No mate mark. Just me.

Lila stirred inside me, uneasy. *Too many eyes.*

*Let them look,* I told her.

I moved through the room with my spine straight and my chin level. Conversations paused as I passed. I felt the weight of every gaze, every whispered question. *Is that Gabrielle Greene? The rejected one? What is she doing here?*

I did not answer. I did not need to.

I found my assigned seat near the center of the room—far enough from the head table that it was not an insult, close enough that I could see everything. I sat. Smoothed my napkin across my lap. Lifted my water glass and took a single sip.

Across the room, Stefan entered with Eva on his arm.

She wore Ironvale colors. Deep blue silk that matched his formal jacket. And around her throat, hanging just above her collarbone, was the Luna pendant. My Luna pendant. The one Stefan's mother had given me the night we announced our bond. Heavy silver, etched with the Ironvale crest, set with a single sapphire the color of midnight.

Eva touched it as she walked, her fingers brushing the stone like she was reminding everyone who saw her that it belonged to her now.

Lila snarled. I took another sip of water.

Stefan's eyes found mine across the room. He held my gaze for three seconds. Then he smiled—small, controlled, the smile of a man who had already won—and turned to greet Alpha Crane at the next table.

I set my glass down. Focused on my breathing. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me react.

Dinner began.

The first course was some kind of delicate fish with herbs I did not recognize. I ate slowly, listening to the conversations around me. Alphas comparing territory yields. Lunas discussing upcoming pack events. The low hum of wolves pretending they were not all watching each other for weakness.

Then I heard her voice.

Vivienne Holt.

She sat three tables over, draped in pale gold silk that probably cost more than most wolves earned in a year. Her mate, Alpha Holt, ran a small but wealthy pack near the eastern border. Vivienne had a reputation for two things: impeccable taste and a tongue sharp enough to draw blood.

She was speaking to the Luna beside her, but her voice carried. Deliberately.

"I just think it's interesting," Vivienne said, her tone light and pleasant, "that we allow rejected she-wolves at these gatherings. I mean, the Autumn Moon Banquet is supposed to celebrate bonded pairs, isn't it? It seems a bit... awkward... to have someone here who couldn't keep her mate."

The Luna beside her laughed. Nervous. Uncertain.

Vivienne's eyes flicked to me. Just for a second. Then away.

The table nearest me went quiet.

I set down my fork. Picked up my wine glass. Took a slow sip.

Vivienne was still talking. "I'm not saying she doesn't have a right to be here. I'm just saying it must be difficult. Walking into a room full of mated wolves when you've been... set aside."

She smiled. Warm. Sympathetic. Poison wrapped in silk.

I turned my head and looked directly at her.

The room did not go silent all at once. It was more like a ripple—conversations faltering, voices dropping, until the only sound left was the soft clink of silverware and the distant murmur of servers in the hall.

Vivienne's smile held. But something in her eyes shifted.

I did not raise my voice. I did not need to.

"You're right, Vivienne," I said quietly. "It is difficult. Almost as difficult as watching a woman build her entire identity around a mate she didn't earn and a title she can't keep."

I took another sip of wine. Set the glass down. Returned to my fish.

Someone at the next table coughed.

Vivienne's face went pale, then red. Her mouth opened. Closed. She looked at her mate, but Alpha Holt was staring very intently at his plate.

I did not look at her again.

Across the room, I caught a glimpse of Connor. He stood near the valet station by the side entrance, hands in his pockets, watching. When our eyes met, he gave the smallest nod. Then he turned and disappeared into the hallway.

Lila purred. *Good.*

*Don't get comfortable,* I told her. *This isn't over.*

The second course arrived. Some kind of roasted game with a dark wine reduction. I ate mechanically, keeping my attention on the room. Stefan was deep in conversation with Alpha Crane. Eva circulated between tables, her hand trailing along the backs of chairs, touching shoulders, laughing at jokes I could not hear.

She was performing. We both were.

Then the server appeared.

He was young. Nervous. The same thin frame and hunched shoulders I had seen in Connor's photo. Eric Lowe. He carried a tray with a single glass of wine—deep red, almost black in the candlelight.

He stopped beside my chair. "Compliments of the house, miss," he said quietly.

I looked up at him. His hands were shaking. Just slightly. Enough that the wine trembled in the glass.

"I didn't order this," I said.

"No, miss. It's a gift. From the estate. For all the guests."

I glanced around the room. No one else had received a glass.

I should have refused. I should have told him to take it away.

But if I refused, Stefan would know I suspected something. And I needed him to think I was unprepared.

I took the glass. "Thank you."

The server's shoulders sagged with relief. He nodded once and hurried away.

I held the wine up to the light. It looked normal. Smelled normal. Rich and slightly sweet, with the faint bite of tannins.

Lila growled. *Do not drink that.*

*I know,* I told her.

But I brought it to my lips anyway. Just a sip. Barely enough to wet my tongue.

The taste was wrong.

Not bad. Just... off. Like there was something underneath the wine, something bitter that the sweetness could not quite cover.

I set the glass down. Too late.

The room tilted.

Not all at once. Just a slow, creeping blur at the edges of my vision. The chandeliers above me stretched and doubled. The voices around me became muffled, like I was hearing them through water.

Lila's presence inside me flickered. Then went silent.

I gripped the edge of the table. My fingers felt numb. My legs were heavy, like someone had filled my bones with sand.

Wolfsbane.

I forced myself to stand. The room swayed. I reached for my phone, but my hand would not cooperate. The screen was a bright blur I could not focus on.

I needed to move. Now. Before I collapsed in front of everyone.

I turned toward the hallway. My legs obeyed, barely. I took one step. Then another. The corridor stretched in front of me, impossibly long.

Behind me, I heard Eva's laugh. Bright. Delighted.

I kept walking.