I couldn't sleep that night. Roman's words kept echoing in my mind: "domesticity," "boring," "predictable." Each syllable cut deeper than the last. After checking on Margaret—her small form curled around Guardian, her stuffed wolf—I slipped into Roman's office while he was out on a "border patrol" that I now knew was a lie.
The pack finances were kept in a locked drawer of his desk, but after seven years as Luna, I knew where he hid the key. My fingers trembled as I opened the drawer and pulled out the leather-bound ledger.
"Let's see how predictable I am," I whispered to myself, flipping through the pages.
The discrepancies were worse than I'd imagined. Large withdrawals marked as "pack improvements" had no corresponding receipts. Monthly payments to a luxury apartment complex in the neighboring territory. Jewelry purchases from the most exclusive boutiques.
I photographed each page with my phone, my Luna instincts keeping me alert to any sound in the house. When I heard the front door open, I quickly locked the drawer and slipped out, my heart hammering against my ribs.
The next morning, I created a new social media account under a false name. Skye was notoriously active online, posting constantly about her lavish lifestyle. It didn't take long to find her profile—her name was practically screaming for attention.
"There you are," I murmured, scrolling through her posts.
The evidence was damning. A diamond bracelet identical to one listed in the pack finances as "Luna ceremonial jewelry." A designer handbag with the price tag still visible—more than three months of my Luna allowance. And most damning of all, photos of her in a luxury apartment with Roman's jacket draped over a chair in the background.
"Living the dream with my Alpha," the caption read. "#BlessedByTheMoonGoddess"
I saved the screenshots, my hands steadier now as anger replaced shock. My wolf paced inside me, growling with each new discovery.
"Marina?" Beta Marcus's voice startled me as I was exiting Skye's profile.
I quickly closed my phone. "Marcus. What can I do for you?"
He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to the door as if checking who might overhear. "I need to speak with you. Privately."
We moved to the small garden behind the pack house. Margaret was at school, and the other wolves were busy with their duties.
"I don't know how to say this," Marcus began, straightening his tie—a nervous habit I'd noticed over the years. "There are... irregularities in the pack finances."
"Irregularities?" I kept my voice neutral, though my heart skipped.
"Large sums transferred without proper documentation. Expenditures that don't match our budget allocations." He hesitated. "Roman approved them all personally."
"Show me," I said simply.
Marcus glanced around before pulling out a tablet and opening a financial app. "Here. And here." His finger pointed to entries I recognized from Roman's ledger. "And this one—twenty thousand for 'special accommodations.' Whatever that means."
I nodded, filing away the information. "Thank you, Marcus. Is there anything else?"
He looked at me carefully. "Marina, I've served this pack faithfully for fifteen years. I've followed Roman's lead because I believed in his vision." His voice dropped lower. "But lately... his decisions have been concerning. The pack is noticing."
"What kind of decisions?"
"He's been absent during crucial meetings. Making promises to neighboring packs we can't keep. And..." Marcus hesitated again. "His scent has changed."
My wolf stirred at his words. A mate's scent changing was significant—it meant their emotional state was shifting dramatically.
"I've said too much," Marcus concluded, closing the tablet. "But as Beta, I need to protect the pack's interests. And that includes you, Luna."
After he left, I moved through the pack grounds with new purpose. As Luna, I had built relationships with every member of the Moonstone Pack. If Roman thought I was just a decorative title, he was about to learn how wrong he was.
I visited Healer Sarah first, who had been with the pack since before Roman and I were mated.
"Luna Marina," she greeted me warmly. "How can I help you today?"
"I need your discretion, Sarah," I said quietly. "And your honesty."
Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded.
"Has Roman been coming to the healing center recently?"
"Not for healing," she said carefully. "But he's been asking for certain... products. For personal use."
"What kind of products?"
Sarah hesitated before reaching under her counter and producing a small box. "This. A scent masker. Used for hunting sometimes, but..."
"But also to hide another wolf's scent," I finished for her.
"Yes, Luna."
By sunset, I had spoken with a dozen pack members. Each conversation revealed another piece of the puzzle—Roman's frequent absences, his changed behavior, the way his eyes lingered on Skye during pack gatherings.
As I walked back toward the pack house, my phone buzzed with a notification. Skye had posted again—a selfie with Roman's mark fresh on her neck, her smile triumphant.
"Can't wait for tomorrow," the caption read.
Neither could I.
