Luna Loses Pup to Betrayal

The diamond brooch caught my eye mid-sentence.

I was in the middle of my weekly antiques appraisal livestream, discussing the intricacies of art deco jewelry to my thousands of followers, when the comment section exploded with hearts and wolf emojis. A glamorous she-wolf had joined the chat, and there, glittering against her collarbone, was my breath caught in my throat.

"Let me zoom in on this particular piece," I said, my curator's instincts overriding my Luna duties for a moment. "The craftsmanship is exquisite—note how the diamonds are set in a honeycomb pattern, typical of 1920s design."

My fingers froze over my keyboard as I leaned closer to the screen. Something about those diamonds, the way they caught the light...

"That's a one-of-a-kind piece," I continued, my voice steady despite my racing heart. "The central diamond has a distinctive cut—what we call a 'Knight cut' in the trade. It's named after the Knight Pack's signature design."

Because it was MY design. MY brooch. The mating token Conrad had placed against my skin three years ago, promising forever.

"The setting shows historical wear patterns consistent with generational ownership," I explained, my expert eye confirming what my Luna heart already knew. "This particular piece would have been passed down through..."

I couldn't finish. My screen had gone blurry.

"Luna Elouise? Are you still there?" Isabella, my assistant, whispered urgently through our private chat.

I blinked, forcing myself back to professional mode. "Yes, sorry about that. We'll continue next week with more vintage treasures."

I ended the stream with trembling fingers and sat in silence, one hand resting protectively over my six-month pregnant belly. Our pup kicked softly, as if sensing my distress.

"It can't be," I whispered to the empty room. But my expert eye never lied.

---

The Knight Pack vault was silent except for the hum of security systems. I'd used my Luna access codes without hesitation—I still had that right, at least.

"Luna Elouise," the guard nodded respectfully. "Alpha Conrad mentioned you might be stopping by."

Of course he did. Always one step ahead.

"I'm just retrieving some personal items," I smiled, the expression feeling brittle on my face.

The vault door slid open with a heavy metallic groan. I moved purposefully toward the glass case that held our pack's most sacred artifacts. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure the guard could hear it.

There it was—or rather, there it wasn't.

The velvet cushion held a brooch that looked identical to mine at first glance. But my trained fingers knew better. I picked it up with trembling hands, turning it over.

"The weight is wrong," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. "The real piece has a slightly heavier platinum backing."

I examined the diamonds more closely. "The clarity is off by just a fraction, but it's noticeable when you know what to look for."

And I knew everything about this piece. I'd traced its patterns while pregnant, had shared its history with our pack's youngest