The heavy iron door to the underground archives groaned as I shoved it shut.

"Ten years," I whispered to the damp stone walls.

I pulled the bone dagger from my belt. Kaelen kept his personal vault locked behind ancient warding, right beneath the sanctuary floor.

"Ten years of playing the perfect, obedient Luna."

I wedged the blade into the microscopic seam of the hidden compartment. The stone panel bore Kaelen Blackwood's private crest.

"You thought I would just cry in our den," I muttered, applying pressure to the hilt. "You thought I was too weak to look."

The locking mechanism snapped. The panel popped outward.

Inside rested a single leather-bound folder. The original logs from the Fertility Ritual, dated five years ago.

"Let's see the truth," I said, pulling the heavy parchment free.

The ink on the page remained dormant, shielded by blood magic. Only a genetic match or the Alpha himself could read the true text.

"I bled for your son tonight," I told the empty room. "I can bleed for myself."

I dragged the dagger's edge across my index finger. A bright red bead welled up instantly.

"Show me," I commanded.

I pressed my bleeding fingertip directly onto the center seal. The parchment hissed.

My blood traced the invisible grooves, glowing a sickly gold before settling into elegant cursive script.

*Egg Donor:*

I stared at the blank space next to the title. The gold ink flared one final time.

*Selene Croft.*

"Not my eggs," I said aloud. The syllables tasted like ash.

I traced the letters of her name.

"You harvested hers," I whispered. "You put her child inside me."

I didn't scream. I didn't collapse into a weeping mess.

Instead, a dry, grating laugh clawed its way up my throat. I smiled slowly, dangerously. A wide, terrifying smile stretching across my face in the dim cellar.

"You made me a living incubator for your mistress," I sneered at the page. "You drained my spiritual energy to keep her fragile pup alive."

Footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. An orange glow flickered under the doorframe.

"Check the lower vaults," a male voice ordered. Silas, the High Priest's deputy.

"Nobody comes down here at this hour," a second voice grumbled. A guard.

"The Alpha ordered increased security. Move."

"Did you see the pup's fur?" the guard asked, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"I saw a shadow," Silas snapped.

"It was silver. I swear it. The Croft bloodline is silver."

"Keep your mouth shut if you want to keep your tongue," Silas warned. "The Alpha said black, so it's black."

"But the Luna—"

"The Luna is irrelevant," Silas interrupted. "She served her purpose. Now check that door."

I stood frozen by the open compartment. The torchlight crept higher up the iron frame of the door.

"It's locked," the guard reported, rattling the heavy handle.

"Use the master key," Silas instructed.

My left hand gripped the edge of the wooden shelf. The heavy silver band on my ring finger dug into my skin. The Luna ring. A decade of carrying Kaelen's crest.

"Not anymore," I whispered.

I pinched the cold metal. It resisted, clinging to my knuckle like a shackle.

"Get off," I hissed.

I yanked it hard. The skin underneath scraped raw and pale, but the ring slid free.

"You don't own me, Kaelen," I murmured, shoving the heavy silver band into my jeans pocket. "I will strip you of everything."

Keys jingled outside. Metal scraped against metal in the lock.

"Hurry up," Silas barked. "This place gives me the creeps."

"The key is stuck," the guard complained. "The dampness rusts these old tumblers."

I moved fast. I grabbed the forged public log from the lower shelf and shoved it into Kaelen's private compartment.

"Click," I whispered, pressing the stone panel back into place. The warding sealed shut.

From my pouch, I grabbed a handful of dried wolfsbane and sage.

"Cover the scent," I muttered to myself.

I crushed the dry leaves between my palms. The bitter dust fell over my boots, masking the metallic tang of my freshly spilled blood.

"Got it," the guard announced. The lock clicked loudly.

"Finally," Silas sighed. "Sweep the room and let's get back upstairs."

I backed away from the door, melting into the pitch-black shadows of the deepest corner.

The heavy iron door swung open. Torchlight flooded the front half of the archive.

"See? Empty," the guard said, waving the flames around.

"Smells like mold and weeds," Silas noted, coughing into his fist.

"It's a basement vault. What did you expect?" the guard retorted. "Can we go now?"

"Fine," Silas agreed. "Lock it back up."

The door slammed shut. The lock engaged with a heavy thud. The orange light faded into complete darkness, and their footsteps receded down the hall.

I exhaled, brushing the remaining herb dust from my jeans.

"Phase one," I murmured, turning toward the secondary exit tunnel. "You want to play the devoted Alpha, Kaelen? I will ruin your entire—"

A massive shadow detached itself from the wall beside me.

Before I could draw my dagger, a rough, calloused hand clamped hard over my mouth.

A solid, muscular chest pressed flush against my back, pinning my arms to my sides.

The scent hit me instantly. Cold pine. Sharp, dominant, and entirely foreign.

A top-tier Alpha.

"Scream, and we both get caught, Luna," a deep, raspy voice whispered directly against my ear.

"Scream, and we both get caught, Luna," the raspy voice warned.

I twisted my shoulder, driving my elbow backward toward his ribs.

He caught my forearm mid-strike. With incredible force, he spun me around. My spine slammed against the freezing stone wall of the underground archive. The impact knocked the air from my lungs.

Pitch-black eyes stared down at me. The irises were entirely void of color, the permanent mark of a severed pack tie.

Silas Vane.

Kaelen's former enforcer. The man my husband had banished to the border wastelands three years ago.

"You always were a fighter, Elara," Silas murmured. His grip felt like iron bands locking around my wrists.

"You are trespassing on Blackwood territory, Vane," I stated. I kept my tone dead flat. I refused to show fear to an exiled killer.

"And you are breaking into the Alpha's private vault," he countered.

His rough, calloused thumb reached up. He dragged the abrasive pad of his skin across my cheekbone, catching a stray drop of moisture. I hadn't realized I was crying. The physical betrayal of my own body infuriated me.

"Tears?" Silas asked. His voice dropped into a mocking register. "For the silver pup? Or for the ten years you wasted on a lie?"

"Get your hands off me."

I shoved my palms flat against his chest. I called upon my spiritual core, intending to flood his nervous system with a paralyzing jolt of healing magic. I just needed one second to stun him.

A tiny spark flickered in my chest, then died instantly.

Nothing happened. The cavern of my magic sat completely hollow. It felt scraped clean.

Silas didn't even flinch. He looked down at my hands pressed against his leather jacket, then back up to my face.

"Running on empty," he observed. A dark smirk played on his lips. "He bled you dry tonight to anchor his bastard's shift. You don't even have the strength to push me away."

"My magic is none of your concern."

"It is when you try to fry my heart with it." Silas leaned closer. "You look exhausted, Luna."

"I will scream," I threatened. "The guards are just down the hall. They will execute you on sight."

"Scream," Silas challenged. He didn't move an inch. "Tell Silas the High Priest's deputy that you just forged the public logs. Explain why you have the Alpha's private compartment open."

I clamped my jaw shut. The muscles in my neck ached from the tension.

Silas released my wrists. He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a heavy object. He held it up between us in the dim, flickering light of the corridor.

A gold coin.

"Take a close look," he instructed.

I squinted at the metal. The edges were stained with a thick, oily purple residue. It smelled faintly of rotting lavender and copper.

"A border market token," I noted.

"Tainted with fertility potion," Silas corrected. "A very specific, highly illegal brew used to mask a surrogate's scent during extraction."

"Where did you get this?"

"From the clinic doctor," Silas answered. "The one who handled Selene Croft's procedure five years ago. He took a hefty bribe from your husband to keep his mouth shut and alter the medical records."

"Why do you have it?"

"Because I slit his throat last week," Silas said casually. "And I took it from his safe."

I stared at the black-eyed enforcer. He was a monster. A ruthless killer. And right now, he was the only person telling me the truth.

"Why are you showing me this?" I asked.

Silas stepped closer. The scent of cold pine and winter frost rolled off him, suffocating the damp smell of the archives.

"Because a war is coming, Elara. And you are standing on the wrong side of the battlefield."

"I don't need your help, Vane."

"You need a weapon." He leaned down. His lips brushed the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my freezing skin. "Do you know where your devoted Alpha really was last night?"

I stiffened. "Border patrol. Sector four. He was tracking rogue sightings."

"He was at the Silver Ridge Inn," Silas whispered. "Room 204. With Selene."

My fingernails dug into my own palms. The half-healed cuts from the altar ritual throbbed.

"They were celebrating their son's upcoming shift," Silas continued. His voice wrapped around me, tightening like a vice. "They toasted to your blind loyalty with elven wine. I tracked his scent myself. Pine and vanilla, tangled up in her cheap jasmine perfume."

I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I didn't shatter into a million pieces the way a Luna was supposed to when her mate betrayed her.

I reached out and plucked the gold coin from his fingers.

"You have three minutes before the patrol shifts," I told him.

Silas raised an eyebrow. He looked genuinely surprised by my lack of hysterics. "You're taking the bribe money?"

"I am taking the evidence." I slipped the cold metal into my jeans pocket. "The old smuggler's tunnel is behind the wine racks. It leads straight to the backyard."

"Playing nice with the enemy, Luna?"

"I have no Alpha," I said, meeting his pitch-black gaze. "And you are useful to me alive."

Silas chuckled. A low, dangerous sound that echoed off the stone walls.

"Lead the way, Elara."

I turned and walked deeper into the cellar. The shadows swallowed us both. We navigated the narrow, winding corridors in total silence. My mind raced, calculating the angles, the betrayals, the ten years of lies built on my back. I was no longer a wife. I was a soldier behind enemy lines.

We reached the heavy wooden door hidden behind a row of dusty wine barrels.

I pushed the iron latch. The door creaked open, revealing the overgrown brush of the backyard. The midnight wind whipped through the trees, biting through my thin shirt.

Silas stepped out into the night air. He paused, looking back at me over his shoulder.

"Keep that coin hidden," he advised. "If Kaelen finds it, he will kill you to protect his secret."

"Worry about your own neck, Vane."

He smirked, turning toward the perimeter. With one powerful leap, Silas vaulted the high stone wall. His heavy boots hit the dirt on the other side without a single sound. He vanished into the tree line, swallowed by the darkness.

I stood alone in the cold.

The exiled enforcer had just handed me the blade to gut my own mate.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps hammered against the hardwood floors inside the first floor of the main house.

"Elara!"

Kaelen's voice rang out, frantic and loud.

"Where are you?!"

He was searching for me. The panic in his tone sounded so real. So perfectly manufactured to sound like a worried husband.

I gripped the tainted coin inside my pocket. The metal edges bit into my skin.

"Elara!"

The backdoor rattled violently.

I let go of the coin. I forced my hands to relax, smoothing the fabric of my shirt. I arranged my features into a mask of exhausted confusion.

The door flew open.

Kaelen stood in the frame. His chest heaved, his eyes wild as he scanned the dark yard.

"There you are," he breathed, stepping out onto the porch.

He rushed forward, grabbing my shoulders. "What are you doing out here in the cold? I've been looking everywhere."

"I needed air," I lied, keeping my voice utterly devoid of emotion.

"You shouldn't be wandering around alone," Kaelen scolded gently. "Not after the amount of blood you lost at the altar."

He pulled me against his chest. I smelled it instantly.

Beneath the scent of the ritual incense, buried under the sweat of the evening.

Cheap jasmine perfume.

My hand rested over the pocket containing the gold coin.

"Let's go inside," I whispered.