I stayed on the corridor floor for exactly as long as it took my hands to stop shaking. Then I got up.
I didn't press my fingertips to the cold bond mark. I didn't look at the wolves still staring from doorways. I just walked—steady, deliberate—back to the healer's quarters, closed the door, and pulled out my worn journal.
The fabricated memory still echoed in my skull like a bad taste. Elle's psychic assault had left residual pressure behind my eyes, a dull throb that pulsed in time with my heartbeat. But my hands were steady now. That was what mattered.
I opened the journal to the page where I'd been cross-referencing supply allocation ledgers against expenditure reports. Dr. Maren had assigned me this task weeks ago—framed as administrative discipline for a healer's apprentice, teaching me to track inventory properly. I understood now that it had never been about inventory.
I pulled the dispensary ledgers from the locked drawer beneath my cot. Official records, signed by Beta Hargrove himself. Then I laid out the actual supply deliveries I'd personally received and documented over the past six months.
The numbers didn't match.
Not even close.
According to Beta Hargrove's reports, the pack had purchased enough rare healing herbs to treat a population three times Ironveil's size. According to what had actually arrived at the dispensary, we'd received maybe a third of that. The rest had simply vanished into ledger lines and Beta Hargrove's signature.
I traced the pattern backward. It wasn't just recent. It went back years. A systematic diversion of healing supplies and pack funds while Omegas like Sable went without medicine for burns that should have been treatable, while Yareli's pup had nearly died from an infection that proper antibiotics would have cleared in days.
I wrote it all down in the same careful handwriting I used for medicinal formulas. Supply item. Reported quantity. Actual quantity received. Discrepancy. Date. Beta Hargrove's signature authorizing the purchase.
The evidence was airtight.
I didn't know yet what I would do with it. But I knew I wouldn't be destroyed quietly. And I knew that when the moment came, I would have something sharp enough to cut back.
The tiny ember of my wolf flickered in my chest. Still there. Still burning.
---
Two days later, I learned that the Lycan King's emissary had arrived.
Lycan Prince Dominic Ashford. The whispers ran through the pack like wildfire. He was conducting an official inspection of Ironveil's governance—standard procedure, they said, nothing to worry about. But I saw the way Beta Hargrove's jaw tightened when the announcement came through the pack mind-link. I saw the way Elle's confident smile flickered for just a moment before she smoothed it back into place.
I kept my head down and stayed out of sight.
Dominic's inspection was thorough. I watched from the dispensary windows as he toured the pack house, the training grounds, the communal facilities. He was tall, dark-haired, moving with the kind of unhurried authority that didn't need to announce itself. Wolves stepped aside when he passed. Even ranked Deltas dropped their eyes.
Beta Hargrove gave him the official tour personally. Too-smooth briefings. Ledgers that had been scrubbed clean of anything incriminating—or so Beta Hargrove thought. I saw Dominic's gaze linger on an Omega server who flinched when a Gamma raised his voice. I saw him note the slightly-too-perfect financial records Beta Hargrove presented.
He was looking for something.
And he was missing the one piece of evidence that would make his case legally unassailable: the internal cross-reference that proved the external records were fabricated.
I made my decision that night.
---
Dominic's temporary quarters were in the east wing of the pack house, reserved for high-ranking visitors. I waited until the patrol rotation shifted—memorized schedules were one advantage of three years as the invisible healer's apprentice—and moved through the corridors like a shadow.
No one stopped me. Wolfless, suspended, accused: I was beneath notice now.
I reached his door and knocked once, softly.
The door opened. Dominic stood in the threshold, still dressed despite the late hour, his dark eyes sharp and assessing. He didn't speak. Just waited.
I held out the sealed envelope. Inside were the copied pages from my journal—every discrepancy documented, every pattern traced, every piece of evidence annotated in precise handwriting.
"These are internally sourced financial records," I said quietly. "Cross-referenced supply allocations against actual dispensary receipts. They document systematic embezzlement of pack resources by Beta Hargrove over a period of at least three years. If you need corroborating testimony, I can provide it."
Dominic took the envelope. His fingers brushed mine for a fraction of a second.
I turned to leave.
"Wait."
His voice stopped me mid-step. I looked back.
He was holding the envelope, but he wasn't looking at it. He was looking at me with an intensity that made something in my chest tighten. Then his gaze dropped to the envelope in his hands, and I saw his expression shift—something flickering across his features too fast for me to name.
He inhaled slowly.
The scent. The faint royal scent I'd been suppressing for three years with wolfsbane tea. I'd stopped drinking the tea after the rejection. It was coming back, surfacing through my skin like something that had been buried too long.
Dominic went very still.
I didn't wait to see what he would say. I just turned and walked away, my heart pounding, the tiny ember of my wolf burning hotter than it had in days.
Behind me, I heard the door close softly.
I made it halfway down the corridor before I had to stop and press my hand against the wall to steady myself. My wolf was awake. Fully awake. Not speaking yet, but *there*—a presence I could feel like heat beneath my skin.
And Dominic had caught the scent.
I didn't know what that meant. I didn't know if he understood what he'd sensed, or if he'd dismiss it as something else entirely.
But I knew the evidence was in his hands now.
And I knew that whatever came next, I had just made myself visible to the one wolf in Ironveil who had the authority to act on what I'd given him.
