Chapter 2
Three weeks passed like a blur of hollow routines. I moved through the Sterling Pack house like a ghost, avoiding the pitying glances and whispered comments that followed me everywhere. My ninth rejection threat had become the pack's favorite joke—a pathetic Luna who couldn't follow through.
The midday sun warmed my skin as I stood on the terrace, watching Emma practice with the other pups on the training grounds below. My daughter's dark curls bounced as she attempted a partial shift, her tiny face scrunched in concentration. Pride swelled in my chest despite the ache that had become my constant companion.
"Look, Mommy!" Emma called up, waving excitedly as she managed to transform her small hands into delicate silver-tipped claws. "I'm doing it!"
I smiled and waved back, ignoring the whispers of two nearby pack females.
"Poor thing," one murmured. "Ryan hasn't been home in three days."
"Madison Cooper has him wrapped around her finger," the other replied with a smirk. "Victoria should just accept it."
Grace growled inside me. *We deserve better than this.*
I turned away, focusing instead on my daughter. Jason, our Gamma, supervised the training session with four Delta warriors stationed at the perimeter. Standard protection for our pups—our pack's most precious resource.
The breeze shifted suddenly, carrying an unfamiliar scent that made the hair on my arms stand on end. Acrid. Wild. Unwashed. My nostrils flared as Grace howled a warning inside my head.
*Rogues!*
Before I could scream a warning, three massive wolves burst from the treeline at the boundary's edge. Their matted fur and yellow eyes marked them as outcasts—wolves without a pack, driven mad by isolation. They moved with terrifying purpose, not toward the warriors, but toward the pups.
Toward Emma.
"ATTACK!" Jason roared, shifting instantly into his russet wolf form. The Delta warriors followed suit, but they were positioned too far from the children.
I lunged for the terrace door, my heart hammering against my ribs. Emma stood frozen in terror as the largest rogue—a mangy gray beast with a scarred muzzle—bounded straight for her. The distance between them closed with horrifying speed.
"EMMA!" I screamed, my body already halfway shifted, bones cracking and reforming as Grace fought to emerge.
A high-pitched yelp split the air—a sound I'd recognize anywhere. My daughter's cry of pain.
Panic exploded through me as I crashed through the door, my shift complete before my paws hit the ground. I tore across the lawn, a silver streak against the green grass, but the Deltas had already engaged the rogues. Bodies collided in a fury of teeth and claws, blood spattering the training ground dirt.
Through the chaos, I spotted Emma's small form lying motionless near the edge of the field.
*Ryan!* I screamed through our mate bond, the mental link stretching thin with distance. *Rogues attacked the training grounds! Emma's hurt! We need you!*
There was a long pause before his voice crackled back, distant and annoyed.
*Not now, Victoria. I'm in the middle of something important.*
Disbelief crashed through me. *Did you hear me? ROGUES. ATTACKED. OUR. DAUGHTER.*
*I'm sure Jason has it under control,* Ryan's voice dripped with condescension. *You're being hysterical again. This is exactly why I can't bring you to these alliance meetings—you're always creating drama.*
I caught a flash of his surroundings through our weakening bond—Madison Cooper's manicured hand resting on his arm, her perfect lips curved in a smile. The scent of her perfume lingered in his consciousness.
*I'm close to sealing a powerful alliance with the Cooper Pack,* he continued. *I'll be back when it's done.*
The connection severed as Emma's body convulsed on the ground, blood staining her silver ceremonial dress. My daughter was dying, and her father had chosen politics—and another woman—over her life.