Chapter 3

Rhett walked into the Pack house yard and found me crouched in the dirt, clawing baneroot out of the ground. Behind me, half a dozen Pack members were on their knees. None of them had dared come near.

He stared down at me.

"You're supposed to be my Luna, Neve. Not a feral."

He crossed the yard, grabbed my wrist, and hauled me upright.

"Why are you eating off the ground in front of the entire Pack? Are you trying to make me look like a fool?"

My wrist burned in his grip. I looked up at him.

"It hurts."

The baneroot was wearing off. My bones ached. My skin crawled. Everything inside me felt like it was being chewed apart.

He saw my eyes — the red tinge that came with the withdrawal. He went still for a second. Then he turned to the nearest Pack member.

"Get Elder Rowan."

She hadn't taken two steps before Cora appeared at the side door.

"Alpha." Her voice was soft. Patient. "She's playing you. She wants your attention." She tilted her head. "If Elder Rowan comes out here and finds nothing wrong with her, how does that look? Your Luna, faking illness in front of the whole Pack. She'll never command respect after that."

Whatever had flickered in Rhett's eyes vanished.

"I've spoiled you." He dropped my wrist. "You'll throw away every last shred of dignity just for attention."

He looked toward the training compound at the edge of the property.

"You want to act like a feral? Fine. Let's see how feral you really are."

He dragged me to the pit — an enclosed dirt ring the Pack used for combat training. Inside, a captured rogue wolf was pacing the perimeter. Unshifted. Feral. Huge.

Rhett shoved me through the gate.

"You spent three years with rogues. Handle one. Do that, and everything's forgiven."

The wolf stopped pacing. Its head swung toward me.

My body moved on its own. I dropped low — crouched, chin down, throat bared. A thin whine slipped out of me. Submission sounds. The same ones I'd made every day for three years to keep the rogues from beating me worse.

I pushed through the pain and moved toward the closest wolf, pressing my neck against its muzzle. The way I'd been trained.

Cora's voice rang out from outside the fence. "What kind of Luna behaves like that? This is humiliating for the entire Pack."

Before anyone could react, the wolf's jaws clamped down on my throat. I froze. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Two warriors by the fence dropped their eyes. One of them muttered, "The Luna — with the animal — she's..."

He didn't finish.

"Get back here, Neve!" Rhett's voice shook with fury. "Now!"

The wolf didn't let go.

I closed my eyes.

A rush of air. A silver blade flashed. Rhett cleared the fence and drove it through the wolf's throat in a single motion.

The animal jerked. Its jaws spasmed and ripped a chunk of flesh from my neck before it collapsed.

Blood ran between my fingers. Rhett crouched over me and pressed his hand hard against the wound.

"Get the healer — now."

Cora pressed a hand to her mouth on the other side of the fence. "Alpha, if anyone finds out she acted like this—"

"Anyone who opens their mouth about it loses their tongue."

He carried me to the medical wing. His jaw was tight but his hands were careful.

"That was my call. My fault. Hang on."

"Make it through this and I'll reinstate you as Luna. Official ceremony. I mean it."

I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell him I regretted all of it — coming to Ashvale, ever crossing paths with Cora. But my mouth opened and nothing came out.

Dr. Marsh stitched the wound quickly. Then, at Rhett's order, he checked the rest of me over.

His hands stopped mid-examination. He looked up — not at Rhett, but past him, toward Cora in the doorway.

Cora's eyes sharpened. A quick, hard look. Then her face slid back into concern.

"Is something wrong with her?" she asked softly.

Dr. Marsh stepped back.

"Alpha, the Luna is in strong physical health. No cause for concern."

He hesitated.

"Only... I'm detecting a second heartbeat. She's carrying. About three months along."