Chapter 3

I clutched David's gifts—Marcus's medallion and the small brass key—as I made my way back to the Silverpine pack house. My wolf stirred weakly within me, her presence a faint comfort against the storm of emotions threatening to drown me.

*Some bonds run deeper than those we acknowledge in life.*

David's words echoed in my mind as I slipped through the back entrance, avoiding the main hall where Ryan might be. I needed answers, and I needed them without his interference.

The key felt heavy in my palm as I climbed the stairs to Ryan's office. He would be out with the border patrol until dawn—one of his few actual Alpha duties he bothered to perform. With trembling hands, I unlocked the door and slipped inside.

The office smelled of him—expensive cologne masking something darker beneath. I moved to his desk, pulling open drawers until I found what I was looking for: the financial ledgers he'd boasted about so often. "My business acumen," he'd claimed, "is what keeps this pack thriving."

I flipped through the pages, my heart racing as patterns emerged. Monthly deposits, substantial ones, all bearing the same subtle mark in the corner—a crescent moon. The Moonstone Pack's symbol. Marcus's pack.

"No," I whispered, my fingers tracing the entries. "It can't be."

But it was. For years—all eight years of our mating—the Silverpine Pack had been kept afloat by anonymous donations. By Marcus. While Ryan took the credit.

I was so absorbed in my discovery that I didn't hear the door open.

"Looking for something?"

I whirled around, the ledger clutched to my chest. Vanessa stood in the doorway, her perfect figure silhouetted against the hall light. She wore one of Ryan's shirts and nothing else, her long legs bare and her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders.

"This is my mate's office," I said, hating how weak my voice sounded. "I have every right to be here."

Vanessa laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your mate? Oh, Isabella. You poor, pathetic thing." She sauntered into the room, running her fingers along the edge of Ryan's desk. "He's never been your mate. Not truly."

My wolf growled, but the sound was feeble, like a kitten trying to roar. "We completed the mating ceremony. We—"

"A ceremony with a disgraced elder who wasn't even sanctioned to perform it." Vanessa's smile was cruel. "Ryan made sure of that. He needed a Luna for appearances, and you were...convenient."

The ledger slipped from my fingers, pages scattering across the floor. "You're lying."

"Am I?" She moved closer, her scent—vanilla and something sharper—invading my senses. "I've been living in this house for months, Isabella. Months. Everyone knows. The pack members avert their eyes when you pass because they pity you." Her finger traced my cheek, and I flinched. "The unwanted Luna."

I backed away, my legs hitting Ryan's chair. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because in three days, it won't matter anymore." Her eyes gleamed with malice. "The rejection ceremony will strip you of everything—your status, your home, what little dignity you have left. And I'll be there to watch you fall."

Something snapped inside me—not anger, but a cold, clear certainty. I gathered the ledgers from the floor, clutching them to my chest.

"These donations," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "They weren't Ryan's doing, were they? It was Marcus. All along."

A flicker of surprise crossed Vanessa's face before she masked it with disdain. "What does it matter? You'll be gone soon enough."

I pushed past her, the ledgers secure in my arms. I needed to confront Ryan, to hear the truth from his lips before I made my final decision.

I found him in the great hall an hour later, earlier than expected from patrol. He was surrounded by Delta wolves, laughing about something—probably another pack he'd manipulated or betrayed.

"Ryan," I called, my voice carrying across the room. "We need to talk."

The hall fell silent. Ryan turned, his handsome face darkening as he saw the ledgers in my arms.

"What are you doing with those?" he demanded, crossing the room in long strides.

"These donations," I said, holding up the books. "They're from the Moonstone Pack, aren't they? From Marcus."

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "You've been snooping in my office?"

"Is it true?" I pressed, ignoring his question. "Has our pack been surviving on Marcus's charity while you took the credit?"

His Alpha aura flared, pressing down on me like a physical weight. I gasped, my knees weakening as the force of his dominance washed over me.

"Know your place," he growled, his voice laced with the Alpha command that had kept me submissive for eight years.

But this time, something was different. As I sank to my knees, the medallion in my pocket seemed to burn against my thigh, and Marcus's face flashed in my mind—kind eyes, gentle smile, a love I'd been too blind to see.

The ledgers scattered around me like fallen leaves, and I wondered how many more truths would crumble before this was over.