Chapter 3
The crystal pulsed with a warm glow as I waited, my heart hammering against my ribs. After thirty years of loyalty, I was reaching out to another Alpha—an act that would have been unthinkable mere days ago.
"Isabella." Kaelan's voice emanated from the crystal, deep and steady. No Alpha tone, just calm respect. "I've been waiting for your call."
I swallowed hard, shame burning my cheeks. "You knew?"
"I suspected Marcus wasn't worthy of you from the beginning," he replied. "Your situation... has been discussed among the Alpha Council."
The thought of other Alphas knowing about my humiliation made me flinch. Lyra growled low in my mind. *Pride later. Survival now.*
"I need sanctuary," I said, the words bitter on my tongue. "And the position you once offered, if it still stands."
There was a pause, and for a moment, I feared he would reject me—damaged goods, a cast-off Luna.
"The position has always been yours," Kaelan said finally. "The Crimson Moon Pack would be honored to welcome you as Luna. Not as a refugee, Isabella, but as the leader you were born to be."
Relief flooded through me, so intense I had to grip the desk to stay upright. "Thank you," I whispered. "I'll need time to—"
"Take what you need," he interrupted gently. "But be careful. A wounded Alpha is dangerous, especially one as insecure as Marcus."
I ended the communication with a promise to contact him again with my escape plan. The crystal cooled in my palm as I tucked it away, hope and dread warring within me.
*We have a way out,* Lyra whispered. *Now we just need to survive until we take it.*
* * *
That evening, Marcus commanded my presence at the pack feast—a monthly tradition where the entire pack gathered to strengthen bonds. I dressed carefully in a deep blue gown, my Luna pendant heavy around my neck. If this was to be one of my final appearances as Luna of the Moonstone Pack, I would not skulk in like a shamed Omega.
The great hall fell silent as I entered. News traveled fast in a pack, and the curious, pitying glances told me rumors were already spreading. I held my head high, taking my customary seat at Marcus's right.
He didn't acknowledge me, deep in conversation with Beta Elias. Emma sat three seats away, her youthful beauty enhanced by a dress that clung to her slender frame. The moonstone pendant—my pendant's twin—gleamed at her throat.
Dinner progressed with excruciating slowness. I picked at my food, stomach too knotted to eat, while maintaining the serene expression I'd perfected over three decades.
Then I saw it. Emma, reaching across the table for the salt, deliberately brushing her arm against Marcus's. A casual touch, but the reaction was immediate. Marcus's nostrils flared, his pupils dilating as his wolf responded to her scent. He leaned imperceptibly toward her, a possessive gesture so subtle only those watching closely would notice.
But wolves are observant creatures. Around the table, eyes widened. Conversations faltered. A Delta's mate whispered something to her husband, eyes darting between Emma, Marcus, and me.
Shame burned through me. Thirty years of dignity, reduced to this—the subject of pack gossip, the pitiful Luna whose mate had strayed.
Lyra snarled. *We are not pitiful. We are of the Silverwood bloodline. We are warriors.*
I straightened my spine, forcing myself to take a bite of food. I would not break here, not in front of them.
Marcus's voice cut through the murmurs. "Luna Isabella seems distracted tonight." His tone was light, but carried to every ear in the hall. "Perhaps the duties of Luna have finally become too much for her aging body."
The cruelty of it stole my breath. Fifty was hardly ancient for our kind, who often lived well past a century.
"I assure you, Alpha," I replied, my voice steady despite the rage boiling inside me, "my body and mind are more than capable of fulfilling all duties required of me."
"Are they?" His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Three decades, and not a single living heir. The pack needs continuity, Isabella. Security." His gaze slid meaningfully to Emma. "Youth."
Gasps rippled through the gathering. To speak of such intimate failure publicly was beyond cruel—it was a deliberate humiliation.
Emma's smile was triumphant as whispers erupted around us. The message was clear to everyone present: their Alpha had found a replacement for his failing Luna.
As I sat rigid in my seat, enduring the pitying glances and barely concealed gossip, one thought crystallized in my mind. I would not just escape this pack—I would make Marcus regret the day he betrayed me.
And Emma would learn what it meant to challenge a she-wolf of the Silverwood bloodline.
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