Chapter 3

I sat rigidly in my assigned seat during the pack gathering, my posture deliberately fragile as Ryan's voice continued to boom across the hall. Emma stood beside him, my grandmother's moonstone gleaming against her throat like a beacon of their betrayal. The sight of it made my blood boil, but I kept my expression carefully blank, my eyes downcast in the submissive pose everyone expected from the broken Luna.

"—and with Emma's assistance, we'll be implementing new security protocols along our eastern border," Ryan was saying, his hand resting possessively on my sister's lower back.

I didn't miss the uncomfortable shifting among the pack members seated near me. A few exchanged glances, their expressions troubled. My newly awakened senses picked up their whispers, words that would have been impossible for me to hear just days ago.

"Something's not right about all this," an older wolf named Marcus muttered to his mate. "The Luna was our strongest female warrior before the attack. It's convenient how she never recovered."

His mate squeezed his arm in warning. "Careful. You know what happened to the last wolf who questioned the Alpha."

Their voices dropped even lower, but Lyra's heightened hearing caught every word.

"I heard Thomas say the rogues that attacked her had silver weapons. Since when do rogues carry silver?"

*They know,* Lyra growled inside me. *Some of them suspect the truth.*

I kept my gaze fixed on my folded hands, but inside, a fierce hope kindled. I wasn't alone. The pack might fear Ryan, but they weren't blind to his deception. If I could expose him, some would stand with me.

"Luna Madison doesn't look well," a younger female whispered from behind me. "The Alpha says those supplements help her, but she seems weaker every month."

*Because they're poison,* Lyra snarled. *They're killing us slowly.*

The ceremony dragged on, with Ryan parading Emma before the pack like a prize. I endured it all with the same vacant smile I'd perfected over the years, all while my mind raced with possibilities. The pack's whispers confirmed what I'd begun to suspect—Ryan's story had holes, inconsistencies that others had noticed.

I needed to get word to someone outside the pack, someone who could help. Commander Valerius of the Lunar Guard had been my mentor before the attack. If anyone would believe me, it would be him.

As the gathering dispersed, Ryan guided me back to our quarters with a firm hand on my elbow, his touch making my skin crawl.

"You should rest, darling," he said loudly for the benefit of passing pack members. "These events tire you so."

"Thank you for your concern," I murmured, playing my part perfectly.

Once alone in our bedroom, I waited until Ryan left for his "important meeting" with Emma. The moment the door closed behind him, I moved quickly to the small writing desk in the corner. I had precious little time.

From beneath a loose floorboard under the bed—my secret hiding place—I retrieved a small scrap of pewter I'd found in the garden yesterday. Soft enough to mark, hard enough to last. With a deep breath, I called forth my claws, wincing at the painful partial shift. My fingers elongated, nails hardening into sharp points.

*Careful,* Lyra cautioned. *Make it small but clear.*

With painstaking precision, I etched a message into the metal, using the old Lunar Guard code Valerius had taught me years ago. The symbols were tiny, barely visible unless you knew to look for them, but they told my story: Poisoned. Betrayed. Need extraction.

I added the final mark—a small crescent moon, my personal identifier in the Guard—just as footsteps approached down the hall. Quickly, I shifted my hand back to human form, hiding the pewter beneath my blanket on the window seat where I often sat to "recover my strength."

When Ryan entered, I was gazing out at the forest, the picture of a docile, broken Luna.

"Did you enjoy the ceremony?" he asked, loosening his tie.

"It was lovely," I lied. "Emma looked so happy with her new position."

"She deserves it," he said, watching me carefully. "Unlike some, she's proven herself capable."

I swallowed the rage that threatened to choke me. "Of course. I'm just grateful you both take such good care of me."

That night, I lay awake long after Ryan fell asleep, listening to his steady breathing. Through the window, I watched the shadow of a figure moving silently across the grounds toward the pack house. Commander Valerius, responding to the emergency signal I'd arranged years ago as a precaution—a specific arrangement of stones on my windowsill that meant a Lunar Guard was in danger.

I held my breath as the shadow paused beneath my window, then disappeared from sight. Minutes later, the blanket on the window seat shifted slightly as expert hands retrieved the pewter message hidden within its folds.

Hope fluttered in my chest like a caged bird. The first piece of my escape plan was in motion.

Now I just had to survive until help arrived.