The ballroom at Silvercrest Manor was exactly what I expected. Crystal chandeliers. Polished marble floors that reflected the candlelight like still water. Long tables draped in ivory linen, each one marked with the crest of a visiting pack. The air smelled like expensive wine and wolf dominance—every Alpha in the region had come to prove they belonged here.
I walked in alone.
I had chosen my dress carefully. Deep emerald silk that skimmed my body without clinging, cut high enough at the neck to look elegant but low enough at the back to remind everyone that I was still a she-wolf worth looking at. My hair was pinned up. My mother's moonstone ring sat on my right hand. No Luna pendant. No mate mark. Just me.
Lila stirred inside me, uneasy. *Too many eyes.*
*Let them look,* I told her.
I moved through the room with my spine straight and my chin level. Conversations paused as I passed. I felt the weight of every gaze, every whispered question. *Is that Gabrielle Greene? The rejected one? What is she doing here?*
I did not answer. I did not need to.
I found my assigned seat near the center of the room—far enough from the head table that it was not an insult, close enough that I could see everything. I sat. Smoothed my napkin across my lap. Lifted my water glass and took a single sip.
Across the room, Stefan entered with Eva on his arm.
She wore Ironvale colors. Deep blue silk that matched his formal jacket. And around her throat, hanging just above her collarbone, was the Luna pendant. My Luna pendant. The one Stefan's mother had given me the night we announced our bond. Heavy silver, etched with the Ironvale crest, set with a single sapphire the color of midnight.
Eva touched it as she walked, her fingers brushing the stone like she was reminding everyone who saw her that it belonged to her now.
Lila snarled. I took another sip of water.
Stefan's eyes found mine across the room. He held my gaze for three seconds. Then he smiled—small, controlled, the smile of a man who had already won—and turned to greet Alpha Crane at the next table.
I set my glass down. Focused on my breathing. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me react.
Dinner began.
The first course was some kind of delicate fish with herbs I did not recognize. I ate slowly, listening to the conversations around me. Alphas comparing territory yields. Lunas discussing upcoming pack events. The low hum of wolves pretending they were not all watching each other for weakness.
Then I heard her voice.
Vivienne Holt.
She sat three tables over, draped in pale gold silk that probably cost more than most wolves earned in a year. Her mate, Alpha Holt, ran a small but wealthy pack near the eastern border. Vivienne had a reputation for two things: impeccable taste and a tongue sharp enough to draw blood.
She was speaking to the Luna beside her, but her voice carried. Deliberately.
"I just think it's interesting," Vivienne said, her tone light and pleasant, "that we allow rejected she-wolves at these gatherings. I mean, the Autumn Moon Banquet is supposed to celebrate bonded pairs, isn't it? It seems a bit... awkward... to have someone here who couldn't keep her mate."
The Luna beside her laughed. Nervous. Uncertain.
Vivienne's eyes flicked to me. Just for a second. Then away.
The table nearest me went quiet.
I set down my fork. Picked up my wine glass. Took a slow sip.
Vivienne was still talking. "I'm not saying she doesn't have a right to be here. I'm just saying it must be difficult. Walking into a room full of mated wolves when you've been... set aside."
She smiled. Warm. Sympathetic. Poison wrapped in silk.
I turned my head and looked directly at her.
The room did not go silent all at once. It was more like a ripple—conversations faltering, voices dropping, until the only sound left was the soft clink of silverware and the distant murmur of servers in the hall.
Vivienne's smile held. But something in her eyes shifted.
I did not raise my voice. I did not need to.
"You're right, Vivienne," I said quietly. "It is difficult. Almost as difficult as watching a woman build her entire identity around a mate she didn't earn and a title she can't keep."
I took another sip of wine. Set the glass down. Returned to my fish.
Someone at the next table coughed.
Vivienne's face went pale, then red. Her mouth opened. Closed. She looked at her mate, but Alpha Holt was staring very intently at his plate.
I did not look at her again.
Across the room, I caught a glimpse of Connor. He stood near the valet station by the side entrance, hands in his pockets, watching. When our eyes met, he gave the smallest nod. Then he turned and disappeared into the hallway.
Lila purred. *Good.*
*Don't get comfortable,* I told her. *This isn't over.*
The second course arrived. Some kind of roasted game with a dark wine reduction. I ate mechanically, keeping my attention on the room. Stefan was deep in conversation with Alpha Crane. Eva circulated between tables, her hand trailing along the backs of chairs, touching shoulders, laughing at jokes I could not hear.
She was performing. We both were.
Then the server appeared.
He was young. Nervous. The same thin frame and hunched shoulders I had seen in Connor's photo. Eric Lowe. He carried a tray with a single glass of wine—deep red, almost black in the candlelight.
He stopped beside my chair. "Compliments of the house, miss," he said quietly.
I looked up at him. His hands were shaking. Just slightly. Enough that the wine trembled in the glass.
"I didn't order this," I said.
"No, miss. It's a gift. From the estate. For all the guests."
I glanced around the room. No one else had received a glass.
I should have refused. I should have told him to take it away.
But if I refused, Stefan would know I suspected something. And I needed him to think I was unprepared.
I took the glass. "Thank you."
The server's shoulders sagged with relief. He nodded once and hurried away.
I held the wine up to the light. It looked normal. Smelled normal. Rich and slightly sweet, with the faint bite of tannins.
Lila growled. *Do not drink that.*
*I know,* I told her.
But I brought it to my lips anyway. Just a sip. Barely enough to wet my tongue.
The taste was wrong.
Not bad. Just... off. Like there was something underneath the wine, something bitter that the sweetness could not quite cover.
I set the glass down. Too late.
The room tilted.
Not all at once. Just a slow, creeping blur at the edges of my vision. The chandeliers above me stretched and doubled. The voices around me became muffled, like I was hearing them through water.
Lila's presence inside me flickered. Then went silent.
I gripped the edge of the table. My fingers felt numb. My legs were heavy, like someone had filled my bones with sand.
Wolfsbane.
I forced myself to stand. The room swayed. I reached for my phone, but my hand would not cooperate. The screen was a bright blur I could not focus on.
I needed to move. Now. Before I collapsed in front of everyone.
I turned toward the hallway. My legs obeyed, barely. I took one step. Then another. The corridor stretched in front of me, impossibly long.
Behind me, I heard Eva's laugh. Bright. Delighted.
I kept walking.
