I stared at the journal in my hands, my entire body trembling with a mixture of rage and disbelief. Marcus—my Alpha, my mate, the man I had trusted with my life for five years—had been systematically poisoning me. The revelation was still raw, a bleeding wound across my soul.
But I couldn't afford to collapse. Not now. Not when my life depended on what I did next.
"We need evidence," I whispered to my wolf, feeling her stir within me for the first time in years. Her presence was weak but growing stronger with each passing minute as the realization of betrayal burned away the fog of manipulation. "He can't get away with this."
I forced myself to appear normal the next morning. My hands shook as I accepted the familiar glass vial from Marcus, his smile never reaching his cold eyes.
"Your medicine, my love," he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face with false tenderness. "You're looking better today."
I smiled weakly, pretending to drink the concoction while secretly letting it pool in my cheek. "Thank you for always taking care of me."
The moment he left for his daily patrol, I rushed to my lab, spitting the liquid into a sterile container. I labeled it meticulously: "Day 1 - Post-Discovery Sample."
For the next week, I maintained the charade. Each morning, I'd accept the poison with a grateful smile. Each night, I'd analyze another sample, building my case vial by vial. I created a hidden compartment beneath my lab bench, sliding each damning piece of evidence inside, along with detailed notes on my symptoms.
"Increased heart rate after administration," I wrote clinically, detaching myself from the horror of it all. "Disorientation lasting approximately three hours. Wolf suppression evidenced by inability to access pack bonds."
Late one night, I finally ran the comprehensive toxicology panel. The lab was silent, the pack house asleep. The only sound was the soft hum of equipment and my ragged breathing as I waited for results.
The screen flickered, and the analysis appeared.
"Wolfsbane concentration: 12.7 mg/ml. Silver particulate: 3.2 mg/ml."
My hands flew to my mouth to stifle a sob. The levels were toxic—carefully calculated to weaken without killing. To suppress my wolf without raising suspicion. To make me appear unstable.
"He's been poisoning us for three years," I whispered to my wolf, who growled weakly in response.
I downloaded the data onto a secure drive, then sealed it in a waterproof pouch before hiding it beneath a loose floorboard in my private office. No one, not even Marcus, knew about this hiding place—a secret I'd kept since becoming Luna.
Two days later, Marcus announced a full-pack gathering to celebrate the territory expansions. I knew what this meant—Victoria would be there. I dressed carefully in a simple blue dress that had once been my mother's favorite color, armoring myself with memories of the parents who had loved me truly.
The great hall buzzed with pack members, their excited chatter filling the space. I stood beside Marcus, playing the role of devoted Luna while my wolf snarled and paced within me, growing stronger each day I secretly avoided the poison.
Then she entered. Victoria Walsh. The rogue she-wolf sauntered through the crowd, her crimson dress clinging to every curve. But it wasn't her dress that made my blood run cold.
Around her neck gleamed my mother's ceremonial silver and moonstone necklace—the one that had been buried with her after she died defending our territory. The one Marcus must have retrieved and gifted to his mistress.
"Alpha Marcus," Victoria purred, ignoring me completely as she approached. "The new territory signs look magnificent. I'm honored by your... tribute."
Marcus smiled, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. "The Victoria Highlands deserved a name worthy of their beauty."
The Victoria Highlands. My parents' memorial territory. Renamed for his mistress.
Someone gasped—perhaps it was me. The room seemed to tilt as pack members exchanged uncomfortable glances.
"Oh, Luna Aria," Victoria said, finally acknowledging me with mock concern. "You look pale. Are you feeling unwell again? Such a pity."
She fingered my mother's necklace deliberately. "I was just telling the Alpha how excited I am to redesign the Luna quarters once you're... out of the way."
Laughter rippled through her supporters—pack members who had already aligned themselves with the stronger wolf.
Marcus did nothing to defend me. His silence was deafening.
In that moment, something fundamental shifted inside me. My wolf, suppressed for so long, rose with surprising strength, her hunger for retribution burning like wildfire through my veins.
*We will destroy them both*, she promised, her voice clearer than it had been in years.
For the first time in three years, I felt my canines lengthen slightly, my nails sharpening to points beneath the careful fold of my hands.
Victoria might wear my mother's necklace today, but soon—very soon—she would learn what happened to those who betrayed a healer who knew exactly how a wolf's body could be broken.
And rebuilt.
