Chapter 3
I lingered in the Council corridor that evening, my fingers tracing the intricate wolf carvings on the ancient oak panels. The pack house had grown eerily quiet after the Moon Ceremony, with most members retreating to their quarters. My new room in the guest wing felt too foreign, too empty to return to just yet.
Voices drifted from around the corner—one silky and feminine, the other deep and commanding. I froze, pressing myself against the wall.
"She's becoming a problem," Sophia's voice carried clearly through the stillness. "The pack is starting to whisper about why she's still here."
"What do you suggest?" James asked, his tone casual, as if discussing the weather rather than my fate.
"Send her to the border territories," Sophia replied. "The outpost needs someone to manage supplies. It's far enough away that she won't be... underfoot."
A pause, then James chuckled—a sound I once found comforting but now sent ice through my veins. "Always the strategic one. That's why we're perfect together."
"We always were," Sophia purred. "That little substitute was just keeping your bed warm."
Their laughter mingled as they moved away, the sound echoing off the stone walls like a physical blow. I pressed my hand against my mouth, stifling the sob that threatened to escape.
Inside me, my wolf stirred. For three years, she had remained subdued, accepting our place as James's convenient replacement. But now, hearing ourselves reduced to nothing more than a temporary bedwarmer, something shifted. My wolf didn't whimper this time. She growled—low and quiet, but unmistakable.
* * *
Three nights later, the pack gathered in the southern clearing for the seasonal harvest celebration. Lanterns hung from tree branches, casting golden light over tables laden with food and wine. Music filled the air as wolves danced and mingled beneath the stars.
I kept to the edges of the celebration, nursing a cup of wine I barely tasted. James and Sophia held court at the center, her silver dress catching the light as she laughed at something he whispered in her ear. His hand rested possessively on her lower back, his Alpha aura enveloping them both in a protective glow.
"You look like you could use some air," a voice said beside me.
I turned to find Delta Markus—the same wolf who had tripped me during the pack run—standing too close, his smile not reaching his eyes.
"I'm fine," I replied, taking a step back.
"The pavilion by the lake is quiet," he persisted, nodding toward the shadowy structure at the edge of the clearing. "No one would bother us there."
"I'm not interested," I said firmly, turning away.
His hand closed around my wrist, tight enough to bruise. "It wasn't a request."
Before I could protest, another Delta—Daren—appeared on my other side. "Alpha wants to speak with you," he said loudly enough for nearby wolves to hear. "At the pavilion."
My eyes darted to James, but he was deliberately engaged in conversation with the pack elders, his back to me. Something wasn't right, but with both Deltas flanking me, I had little choice but to follow.
The pavilion stood dark and isolated, far enough from the celebration that the music faded to a distant hum. As we approached, my wolf's anxiety spiked, her warning clear: danger.
"James isn't here," I said, stopping at the entrance.
"No," came a rough voice from the shadows. "But we are."
Three figures emerged—wolves I'd never seen before, their scents marking them as rogues. Their eyes gleamed with predatory intent as they circled me.
"The substitute Luna," one sneered, reaching out to touch my hair. I jerked away, backing against a pillar.
"Not even a real Luna," another laughed, his claws extending. "Just a placeholder."
They closed in, tearing at my cloak. I tried to shift, to call my wolf forward, but terror froze me in place. Pain shot through my arm as claws raked across my skin.
"Please," I gasped, my wolf howling in panic within me. "Stop!"
"Enough!" The Alpha command shook the pavilion, freezing everyone in place.
James stood in the entrance, his eyes blazing with fury, his aura expanding like a physical force. With a roar that seemed to shake the very ground, he launched himself at the rogues. They scattered like leaves in a storm, disappearing into the night.
I collapsed to my knees, shaking uncontrollably. James knelt beside me, his face a mask of concern as he gathered me into his arms.
"You're safe now," he murmured, lifting me effortlessly. "I've got you."
As he carried me back toward the pack house, I caught sight of Leo Vance watching from the shadows, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. And suddenly, with crystal clarity, I understood.
This had been planned. Orchestrated. A setup to make James my savior once again.
My wolf, no longer cowering, rose within me with a growl that rumbled through my chest. For the first time in three years, we were in perfect agreement: we needed to escape.
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