Chapter 2

The fever came like a wildfire through my veins, burning away what little strength I had left. Three days after my humiliating breakdown in the dining hall, my body finally surrendered to the infection that had been brewing since childbirth. The cramping in my abdomen intensified until I could barely breathe, and when I stumbled to the bathroom, the sight of blood made my knees buckle.

"Alexander," I whispered, my voice barely audible as I collapsed back onto our bed. But he wasn't there. He hadn't been there for days, not since he'd carried Savanna away in his arms like some wounded princess while I stood dripping with the aftermath of my rage.

The pack doctor arrived within the hour, his weathered face grave as he examined me. Internal bleeding. Severe infection. Complete bed rest for at least a week, possibly longer. The words floated around me like distant thunder as my body shivered uncontrollably beneath the heavy quilts.

"Where is the Alpha?" Dr. Morrison asked, his tone carefully neutral.

"Busy," I managed through chattering teeth. "With pack business."

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but what else could I say? That my mate was probably comforting his chosen lover while his true mate's body tried to tear itself apart? That he hadn't even bothered to check on me since our public confrontation?

Dr. Morrison's silence spoke volumes as he prepared an IV line. "You need constant monitoring, Luna. This level of infection could be life-threatening if left untreated."

Life-threatening. The words should have scared me, but all I felt was a hollow numbness. Would Alexander even care if I died? Or would it simply make his path to Savanna easier?

The next morning brought Alexander's parents—Beta Thompson and his mate Eleanor. They swept into my room with the efficiency of pack officials conducting business, their concern clearly focused on pack stability rather than my wellbeing.

"How long before you can resume your Luna duties?" Eleanor asked without preamble, her sharp eyes scanning my pale face with obvious disapproval. "The pack needs leadership, especially after your... episode."

I struggled to sit up straighter, my wolf whimpering at the dismissive tone. "Dr. Morrison said at least a week of bed rest."

"Unacceptable," Beta Thompson declared. "The pack feast for the neighboring Alphas is in five days. You need to be planning menus, coordinating with the kitchen staff—"

"I can barely stand," I interrupted, my voice cracking. "I'm fighting an infection that could kill me."

Eleanor's expression didn't soften. "Then perhaps you should have thought of that before creating a scene that embarrassed our entire pack. Savanna has been helping Alexander manage pack affairs since you've been... indisposed."

Of course she had. My replacement was already stepping into my role while I lay here bleeding and broken. They visited daily after that, each time with new demands and subtle criticisms, treating me like a malfunctioning piece of pack machinery rather than their son's mate.

By the fourth day, my enhanced hearing had sharpened with the fever, picking up conversations throughout the pack house with crystalline clarity. That's when I heard them—Alexander and Savanna in his office, their voices carrying through the walls like daggers to my heart.

"She's becoming increasingly unstable," Alexander was saying, his tone clinical and detached. "The outburst at dinner, the accusations... I'm starting to think the pregnancy affected her mentally."

Savanna's melodic laugh made my stomach clench. "Oh, darling, anyone with eyes can see she's unfit to be Luna. The way she served food like a common omega, never asserting her authority... She's weak."

"Our connection has always been special," Alexander murmured, and I could hear the rustle of fabric, the soft sound of an embrace. "You understand the pack's needs in ways she never could."

My trembling fingers found my phone on the nightstand. With effort that left me gasping, I activated the recording function and held it toward the wall. Every word, every intimate whisper, every casual dismissal of our mate bond—I captured it all.

"When this is over," Savanna continued, her voice dreamy with satisfaction, "when she finally accepts that she doesn't belong here, we can be together properly. The pack already looks to me for guidance."

"Soon," Alexander promised. "I just need to handle this delicately. The mate bond makes rejection... complicated."

Rejection. The word hit me like a physical blow, but I kept recording, my heart breaking and rebuilding itself into something harder with each betrayal they revealed. They spoke of me like I was already gone, already replaced, already forgotten.

The recording ended when footsteps approached my door. I quickly hid the phone under my pillow, closing my eyes and forcing my breathing to remain even as someone—probably Eleanor—checked on me before moving on.

Lying there in the darkness, fever burning through my veins and their words echoing in my mind, I felt something shift inside me. The mate bond that had once felt like golden chains now felt like shackles I was finally ready to break. They thought I was weak, unfit, unstable.

They had no idea what they'd just awakened.

The next morning, a presence unlike any I'd ever felt swept through the pack house like a tsunami of raw power. Even through my fever-addled state, I recognized that aura—ancient, royal, and absolutely furious. My wolf lifted her head for the first time in days, a spark of hope igniting in her golden eyes.

My brother had come.