I found Marcus in the training annex just after midnight. The corridor lights were dim. Most of the pack was asleep. He was alone in his office, reviewing patrol schedules with the tired focus of a man who worked because stopping meant thinking.
He looked up when I knocked. Saw my face. Set his pen down.
I walked in and closed the door behind me. I didn't sit. I placed the delivery receipt on his desk. Then three pages of financial discrepancies I'd printed from my own ledgers. The numbers were highlighted in yellow.
"I need your log," I said.
He looked at the pages. His jaw tightened. He didn't ask what log. He knew I knew.
"Luna—"
"Marcus." My voice was quiet. "I need your log."
He held my gaze for a long moment. Then he turned to the locked drawer in his desk. Pulled a key from his pocket. Opened it.
The file was thick. Encrypted printouts, dates going back years. He set it on the desk between us.
"Nine years," he said. His voice was rough. "Every anomaly I couldn't explain. Every absence that didn't match the schedule. Every contract that felt wrong."
I picked it up. Flipped through the first few pages. Dates. Amounts. Locations. All of it aligned with what Dex had found. All of it worse because Marcus had been watching this unravel in real time and had no one to tell.
"You waited," I said.
"I had no proof." He looked at me. "Just suspicion. And suspicion without evidence is treason against your Alpha."
"It's not treason if it's true."
He exhaled slowly. "No. It's just dangerous."
I set the file down. Opened my laptop on his desk. Pulled up the full evidence packet Dex had delivered. The final version had arrived this morning—bank records, property deed, the pregnancy timeline, the travel log.
I turned the screen toward Marcus.
"Cross-reference," I said.
We worked through the night.
Marcus had dates I didn't. I had transactions he'd missed. Together, the picture was complete. Five million dollars laundered through Sergio's fake security consulting. The Cedarfall house purchased the same month Holden told me we needed to focus on territorial expansion. Monthly payments to Mia that started seven years ago and never stopped.
Marcus leaned back in his chair around three in the morning. Rubbed his face with both hands.
"This is treason," he said quietly. "Under pack law. Financial misconduct at this scale. Diverting treasury funds for personal use. Concealing a bloodline heir."
I didn't say anything.
He looked at me. "Luna Challenge. You have grounds."
I closed the laptop. "I know."
"When?"
"The Banquet."
His eyes widened slightly. "In front of every allied Alpha in the region."
"Yes."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded. Once. Deliberate.
"What do you need from me?"
"Your testimony. Your log. And your position at my left shoulder when I call the vote."
He didn't hesitate. "You have it."
I left the annex as the sky was turning gray. Holden would be waking soon. I needed to be there when he did.
He found me in the kitchen, making coffee. He smiled. Came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder.
"You're up early," he murmured.
"Couldn't sleep," I said. I kept my voice light. "Too much on my mind."
"The Banquet?"
"Mm."
He kissed the side of my neck. Pulled back and turned me around gently, hands on my shoulders. His expression was warm. Concerned.
"I wanted to talk to you about that, actually," he said. "I know these big events stress you out. But I need you to be… radiant. The other Alphas need to see us strong. United."
"Of course," I said.
He smiled. Relaxed slightly. "There's one more thing. I'm planning to introduce someone. A young boy. A ward, technically. From a dissolved pack up north. I've been mentoring him quietly. I want to present him as a potential future heir candidate. It'll reassure the allied Alphas that Ironveil has succession stability."
He said it so smoothly. So practiced.
I met his eyes. "That sounds like a good idea."
Relief flickered across his face. "You think so?"
"Absolutely. Succession questions make allies nervous. If you have someone promising to introduce, it strengthens our position."
He pulled me into a hug. "I knew you'd understand. Thank you, Rayna. For always being my partner in this."
I rested my head against his chest. "Always."
Two days later, I called the meeting.
The pack archive building was old. Holden never went there. It housed historical records, old treaties, ceremonial documents no one touched except during formal reviews. The basement had a private chamber the elders used for sensitive deliberations.
I arrived first. Marcus came next, carrying both our files. Then the three senior elders: Constance, the legal elder, a formidable she-wolf in her sixties with silver hair and eyes like flint; Barnaby, the eldest, who'd served under Holden's father; and Iris, who oversaw pack finances and territorial contracts.
No one spoke as we descended the stairs.
I locked the door behind us. Set the evidence packet on the table. Opened it.
"I am invoking Luna Challenge," I said.
Constance's eyes snapped to mine. Barnaby straightened. Iris's hand went still on the table.
"Under what grounds?" Constance asked. Her voice was steady. Professional.
"Financial treason. Concealment of a bloodline heir. Systematic diversion of pack treasury funds for personal gain."
I slid the first document across the table. The Cedarfall property deed.
"This house was purchased using pack funds laundered through fake security consulting contracts executed by Sergio Hollis. The property is occupied by Mia Hollis and a seven-year-old boy named Mylo. Paternity confirmed."
Second document. The pregnancy timeline.
"Mia's pregnancy was confirmed the same week I miscarried. Alpha Holden traveled to the Cedarfall property forty-eight hours after the miscarriage. Monthly payments to Mia's account began immediately thereafter and continue to present day."
Third document. Marcus's encrypted log.
"Beta Marcus has documented nine years of financial anomalies that correspond directly with the embezzlement trail. Total diverted funds: five million dollars."
I placed the final page on top. The invoice for the toy.
"The scheme was discovered when a delivery notification was misdirected to pack correspondence. Alpha Holden intends to introduce Mylo at the Alliance Banquet as his ward and future heir candidate, using the event to publicly legitimize the boy and consolidate his position before any challenge can be raised."
Silence.
Constance picked up the pregnancy timeline. Read it slowly. Her face did something I had never seen before—fury, cold and absolute, beneath perfect control.
Barnaby's hands were shaking.
Iris stared at the financial summary like it had personally betrayed her.
"Luna Challenge," Constance said finally, "requires unanimous elder vote to grant. The accused Alpha is entitled to no advance notice. The Challenge is triggered at the Luna's signal during a public assembly."
She looked at me. "You understand what you're asking."
"I do."
"The bond will break. You will both feel it."
"I know."
She set the paper down. Looked at Barnaby. At Iris. Back to me.
"Vote," she said.
Barnaby's voice was hoarse. "Granted."
Iris closed her eyes briefly. "Granted."
Constance's gaze never left mine. "Granted."
She stood. Came around the table. Placed one hand on my shoulder.
"The Banquet is in five days," she said quietly. "When you give the signal, we will be ready."
I nodded.
She squeezed once. Let go.
I gathered the files. Marcus unlocked the door. We left separately, in intervals, the way wolves do when they are moving something dangerous in silence.
I drove back to the pack house alone. Parked in my usual spot. Walked inside.
Holden was in the living room, reviewing seating charts for the Banquet. He looked up and smiled.
"There you are. Come look at this. I think I've got the head table figured out."
I walked over. Looked at the chart.
"Perfect," I said.
He kissed my temple. "Five days. Then everything changes."
"Yes," I said. "It does."