Chapter 1

The emergency council chamber felt like a tomb as I took my seat beside Nathan. His imposing figure radiated power, but not a single glance came my way. Five rogue attacks in the past month had left our borders vulnerable, our pack terrified. Something had to be done.

I smoothed my trembling hands over my dress, trying to appear composed as the Luna I was supposed to be. The scent of fear permeated the room, mingling with the subtle floral notes of Isabella's perfume from where she sat in the front row—a place reserved for high-ranking pack members, not advisors.

"The situation has become untenable," Nathan's voice cut through the murmurs, commanding immediate silence. "We must send someone to negotiate with the rogues, to determine their demands and establish boundaries."

Elias, Nathan's loyal Beta, cleared his throat. "Alpha, with respect, that's a suicide mission. The last three scouts we sent never returned."

"Which is why it must be someone the rogues will respect—someone with authority." Nathan's eyes swept the room, deliberately avoiding mine. "Someone who represents the pack's interests."

A chill ran down my spine as Isabella leaned forward, her delicate features arranged in a mask of concern. "Perhaps the Luna should go. After all, who better represents the heart of our pack?"

The suggestion hung in the air like poison. I waited for Nathan to dismiss it immediately, to protect his mate as any Alpha would. Instead, his jaw clenched—that telltale sign of his that I'd learned meant he was considering something that should be unconscionable.

"The Luna does carry the authority to speak for the pack," he mused, as if the idea had merit.

"Nathan," I whispered, too low for others to hear, "you can't be serious."

His eyes finally met mine, cold and distant as winter stars. "I believe we should put it to a vote."

What followed was a masterclass in manipulation. I watched in horrified silence as Nathan moved around the room, his Alpha aura pulsing with each persuasive word. He touched shoulders, made promises with his eyes, and occasionally let his Alpha tone slip into his voice—not enough to force compliance, but enough to sway those on the fence.

"All in favor of sending Luna Victoria as our emissary to the rogues, raise your hands."

Hands rose across the chamber—some eagerly, others reluctantly. Isabella's was the first up, her lips curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"It's settled then," Nathan announced, not even bothering to count the opposing votes. "Luna Victoria will depart at dawn."

I was being sacrificed. The realization hit me with stunning clarity. My own mate had orchestrated my execution.

* * *

Three days later, I dragged myself back to the pack house, my body a map of pain. The rogues had been waiting—not to negotiate, but to make an example. Only my wolf's desperate surge of strength had saved me, leaving four of them dead and me barely alive.

Blood matted my hair, and deep claw marks across my ribs made each breath agony. But worse than the physical pain was the hollow ache in my chest, the desperate need for my mate's comfort.

I followed Nathan's scent through the quiet house, leaving crimson droplets on the polished floor. His scent grew stronger as I approached our private chambers—the one place I'd never been truly welcome, but the only place I might find solace now.

My trembling hand pushed open the heavy oak door.

The sight before me stopped my heart. Nathan and Isabella, tangled together on our ceremonial bed—the very bed where our mating had been consummated. Her head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands possessively gripping her hips, both of them oblivious to my presence in their passion.

A strangled sound escaped my throat, somewhere between a sob and a growl. They froze, turning toward me in unison. Isabella's eyes widened in mock surprise before a smile of triumph spread across her face. Nathan simply looked annoyed at the interruption.

"You're alive," he stated flatly, making no move to cover himself or come to my aid despite the blood soaking through my torn clothes.

I backed away, my vision blurring with tears and rage. My wolf howled in anguish within me, the betrayal cutting deeper than any rogue's claws.

* * *

The next morning, I stood at the edge of the sunrise gathering, a ghost at my own funeral. Pack members averted their eyes as I limped into the clearing, my wounds hastily bandaged but still seeping. The whispers followed me like shadows.

"Poor thing..."

"Always knew she wasn't his true Luna..."

"Isabella has been running things anyway..."

As if summoned by their thoughts, Isabella glided into the center of the gathering, radiant in a dress the exact shade of the ceremonial Luna robes. Nathan stood beside her, his hand possessively at the small of her back.

"Good morning, my pack," she called out, her voice honey-sweet. "Alpha Nathan and I thank you for your continued loyalty during these difficult times."

One by one, pack members approached, bowing their heads first to Nathan, then to Isabella—the traditional greeting reserved for the Alpha and Luna. Not a single eye turned my way.

I watched as my replacement accepted their fealty with gracious smiles, playing the role that had always been meant for her. The truth crystalized in that moment, sharp and undeniable: I had never been Nathan's Luna. I had only ever been a placeholder, warming her seat until she was ready to claim it.