Aliana POV:
*Thirty. That was the number of cracks in the plaster above the bed. It was also the age I turned today.*
In our world, the first Shift *usually hits like a freight train* at eighteen. The pain of bones breaking and rearranging is supposed to be a rite of passage, a welcome into adulthood. But for me, that day came and went with nothing but a *low-grade* fever.
Twelve years later, I was still just Aliana. The Wolf-less Luna. The embarrassment of the Silver Moon Pack.
The heavy oak door creaked open. I sat up, pulling the silk sheets against my chest.
Alpha Ivan walked in. He was already dressed in his charcoal suit, *looking like a million dollars and smelling like trouble.*
He was my Fated Mate. The Moon Goddess had decreed it. But without my wolf, the bond felt one-sided. *Like shouting into a canyon and waiting for an echo that never comes.*
"Happy birthday, Aliana," he said. *Tone flat. Professional.*
He leaned down to kiss my cheek. I closed my eyes, desperate for the spark, the electric current that books said mates shared.
Instead, I felt nothing but *damp skin.*
And then, it hit me.
The Scent.
Usually, Ivan smelled of crisp pine and rain. But today, beneath the expensive cologne, there was something else.
*Peaches. Rotting in the heat.*
"You're leaving?" I asked, my voice small. "I thought... I thought we might go to the Moon Stone today. To pray for my wolf?"
Ivan straightened his tie in the mirror, not looking at me.
"Pack business, Aliana. The border negotiations with the Northern packs are intense. I can't hold their hands and pray to a silent Goddess."
He turned, his eyes sweeping over me *with the kind of look you give a dog that needs to be put down.*
"Maybe if you focused less on fairy tales and more on your duties as a hostess, the Pack wouldn't be so restless."
"I do my best, Ivan," I whispered.
"Your best isn't an heir, is it?" he shot back.
He checked his watch. "I'll be late tonight. Don't wait up."
He walked out. The door clicked shut, leaving me in the silence of the massive, empty house.
My stomach churned. *It wasn't just heartbreak. It was physical. For years, I'd been waking up dry-heaving, my joints aching like I was eighty instead of thirty.* The Pack doctors said it was my body rejecting my dormant wolf.
I dragged myself out of bed. I needed coffee. I needed to feel like a person.
As I drove into town, my phone buzzed. It was Debi, my lawyer and the only friend I had left who didn't look at me like a charity case.
"Happy Birthday, Ali," her voice crackled over the car's Bluetooth.
"Thanks, Debi."
"Let me guess. The Alpha is 'working'?"
"Border negotiations," I said, gripping the steering wheel.
"*Bullshit,*" Debi said. "*I was at the courthouse filing permits this morning. The Northern delegates aren't even in the state until next week. Ivan isn't at the border.*"
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying you should go to his office. Surprise him."
I hung up, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
I drove to the Hughes Corporation tower. *The security guards barely glanced at me. Why would they? I was the invisible wife.*
When I reached the top floor, Ivan's secretary, a Beta female named Sarah, turned pale.
"Luna Aliana! We... we weren't expecting you."
"Where is my husband, Sarah?" I asked.
"He's... he's in a meeting. Off-site. Very private."
Her eyes darted to the side. *I caught the distinctive glaze over her eyes-she was Mind-Linking.*
*The Luna is here. She knows.*
I saw a sticky note on her desk, half-covered by a file. *Reese Gallery - 10 AM.*
Reese.
The name sent a shiver down my spine. Kiera Reese. The Rogue who had tried to kill me five years ago. My parents swore she had been exiled to the Wastelands.
I turned on my heel and ran back to the elevator.
The Reese Gallery was in the arts district. I parked down the street, my hands shaking.
That's when I saw it. A black armored SUV with the crest of the Blood River Pack.
My father's car.
I got out, pulling my hood up. I crept toward the gallery's massive glass front.
The gallery was closed. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw them.
Ivan. My father. My mother, Luna Eleanor.
And Kiera.
She looked radiant. *She didn't look like an exiled Rogue; she looked like she owned the place.*
But it was what was happening in the center of the room that stopped my heart.
A little boy, maybe five years old, was running around a sculpture. He had Ivan's dark hair.
Ivan crouched down, opening his arms. The boy ran into them, giggling.
"Up! Up, Alpha Daddy!" the boy squealed.
Ivan lifted him effortlessly. The look on Ivan's face... it was pure adoration.
I pressed closer to the glass. *Adrenaline spiked through me, sharpening my senses in a way I hadn't felt in years.*
"He's strong, Ivan," my father's voice boomed. "A true Alpha heir."
"He has your eyes, Richard," Kiera purred, linking her arm through Ivan's. "And Ivan's strength."
"When will you announce it?" my mother asked, sipping champagne. "We can't keep pretending Aliana is useful for much longer. The Pack needs a future."
Ivan laughed. It was a cold, cruel sound.
"Tonight. After her pathetic little birthday dinner. I'll tell the elders that my sperm count is low, a tragic side effect of stress. We'll 'adopt' Leo. No one needs to know he's Kiera's."
"And the girl?" Kiera asked. "She smells of death already. That Wolfsbane cocktail you've been feeding her is working slow, though."
"Patience, my love," Ivan murmured.
"Five years of suppression," my father grunted. "If that White Wolf blood of hers ever woke up, she'd destroy us all. Better she dies a sickly Omega than lives to take my territory."
My knees gave out. I slid down the rough brick of the pillar.
*They weren't just cheating. They were murdering me by inches.*
Wolfsbane. The deadliest herb to our kind. They had been feeding it to me for five years.
I looked at my phone. A text message from Ivan popped up.
*My dear, Pack business is dragging on. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you tonight. Happy Birthday.*
I looked through the glass. Ivan was kissing Kiera.
Something inside me snapped.
*It felt like a rusty lock breaking deep in my gut.*
*Kill them.*
The voice was ancient. Angry.
I scrambled back to my car. I drove.
As the gallery faded in the rearview mirror, my eyes caught my reflection.
For a split second, my irises weren't their usual hazel.
They were white. Pure, terrifying white.
Vera POV:
The dining room was suffocating.
Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow, but the atmosphere was colder than a winter grave.
I hadn't packed yet. I needed to survive this dinner first. If I tried to leave now, amidst the celebration, Dax would physically stop me. He was a Beta, stronger than my human form, and he loved a scene.
So I sat.
I sat at the far end of the table, the spot reserved for children or disgraced relatives.
Eris sat at the head, to my father's right. Cain sat beside her.
"The Elders at the Academy were astounded," Eris was saying, her voice thick like syrup. "They said they hadn't seen an Alpha Aura this potent in a female for three generations."
"Incredible," my father breathed, looking at her like she was a winning lottery ticket. "A female Alpha in the Darkthorne line. This changes everything for our standing in the Council."
"It was hard," Eris sighed, leaning onto Cain's shoulder. "The transformation... the power... it takes a toll on my body. That's why I'm so frail."
"You are a warrior, my love," Cain murmured. He cut a piece of steak and fed it to her.
My stomach rolled.
"My love." He had never called me that.
"Oh, Vera!" Eris suddenly looked at me, eyes widening in mock surprise. "I didn't see you there. You're so... quiet. Like a little mouse."
The table went silent.
"Welcome home, Eris," I said steadily. I sliced into the rare steak on my plate. Blood pooled on the white porcelain.
"How was your little ceremony?" Eris tilted her head. "Cain was so worried about me, he just couldn't tear himself away. You aren't mad, are you?"
She released a scent then. It was supposed to be an Alpha command, a wave of dominance.
But to me, it smelled like burnt rubber and cheap perfume. Chemical. Artificial.
"Of course not," I said, not looking up. "Why would I be mad? Cain made his priorities very clear."
My mother chimed in, voice shrill. "Vera is a sensible girl. She knows family comes first. And Eris is the future of this family."
"Exactly," Dax grunted, stuffing his face with bread. "Vera is happy to serve. Aren't you, V?"
I looked at Dax. Then Cain.
Cain was frowning, watching me. Usually, when Eris exerted dominance, I would flinch. Tonight, I was staring him down.
"I am not angry," I repeated. "I am clarified."
"Clarified?" Cain asked. "What does that mean?"
"It means I understand my position. And yours."
A shiver seemed to pass through Cain. He rubbed his arms.
"Well, good," my mother clapped her hands nervously. She picked up a piece of meatloaf—the dry, overcooked brick the staff made—and dropped it onto my plate.
"Eat up, Vera. You look thin. We can't have people thinking we don't feed you."
A scrap for the dog.
I stared at the meat.
Suddenly, Eris gasped.
Hands flew to her throat. Face turning a violent purple.
"I... I can't..." she choked.
"Eris!" Cain jumped up, chair clattering. "What is it?"
"The air..." Eris wheezed, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Her scent... it's... it's attacking me!"
"What?" Dax roared, slamming his fist on the table.
"It burns!" Eris screamed, throwing herself into Cain's arms. "She's doing something! Her Omega stench... it's reacting with my Alpha Aura!"
Bullshit. Omegas are calming. Neutral. We don't have offensive scents.
But logic didn't matter here. Only Eris mattered.
"Vera!" My father stood up, face red. "Stop it! Whatever you are doing, stop it now!"
"I am doing nothing," I said calmly, putting down my knife.
"She's turning blue!" my mother shrieked. "Call the doctor! Get the suppressants!"
Chaos erupted. Servants ran. Dax shouted orders. Cain swept Eris up, looking at her with terrified devotion.
As he rushed past me toward the medical wing, Cain shot me a look of pure venom.
"If anything happens to her," he snarled, "I will make you regret you were ever born."
They ran out. The dining room was empty again.
I sat alone among the half-eaten food and overturned wine glasses.
That wasn't a reaction to you, Vespa said, her tone dry. That was a side effect. She overdosed.
Overdosed on what?
Steroids, Vespa replied. Synthetic hormones. She isn't an Alpha, Vera. She can't even shift. She's juicing to mimic the pheromones. And right now, her body is rejecting the poison.
I looked at the empty chair where the "Alpha Female" had sat.
It was all a lie. Her power, her aura, her fragility. A performance.
And my mate had fallen for the act, hook, line, and sinker.
I stood up. I didn't clear the table.
I headed for the stairs. I had packing to do. And this time, no one was stopping me.
Vera POV:
I was halfway up the stairs when I heard the slap.
It wasn't physical, but the sound of my mother's voice from the hallway felt like a blow.
"You poisoned her!"
I turned. My mother stood at the bottom of the stairs, chest heaving.
"I did no such thing."
"Don't lie to me!" She rushed up, face twisted. Smack.
My head snapped to the side. The sting was sharp, hot.
"Eris is covered in hives!" my mother screamed. "The doctor says it's an allergic reaction to a foreign contaminant. You put something in her food! You were jealous!"
I touched my throbbing cheek. "I didn't make the food, Mother. The kitchen staff did. Ask them."
"You were in the kitchen!" Dax appeared behind her. "I told you to go there. You must have slipped something in."
"I never went to the kitchen. I went to my room."
"Liar!" Dax spat. "You've always been jealous. That's why we sent you North. To protect her from your toxic energy."
I froze.
Is that the story they told themselves? That they sent a twelve-year-old to a frozen wasteland to protect the golden child?
I remembered the North. The biting wind. The Rogue wolves throwing themselves at the outpost fences. I remembered picking up a silver-plated dagger at fourteen because the perimeter was breached and I was the only thing standing between the mess hall and a massacre.
I had killed three Rogues that night. I hadn't peeled potatoes. I survived.
"Think what you want."
I turned my back and walked into my room, locking the door.
They pounded on it for a minute, shouting threats, but a scream from the medical wing drew them away.
I moved quickly.
I didn't take the silk dresses or the jewelry.
I reached under my bed and pulled out a black tactical duffel. Inside was my gear from the Outpost.
Kevlar-lined combat suit. Silver-edged daggers. A first-aid kit tailored for wolfsbane poisoning. And a burner phone.
I changed out of my funeral dress into cargo pants and combat boots. They felt like a second skin.
I picked up the burner. Old tech, untraceable.
I dialed a number I hadn't used in six months.
"Secure line," a gruff voice answered. "Identify."
"Designation V. Requesting reactivation."
Pause. Then, the voice softened. "Commander V? We thought you retired to play house."
"The house burned down," I said. "I'm coming home, Rike."
"Gate's always open. We have a Rogue surge in Sector 4. Could use your blade."
"ETA ten hours."
I slung the bag over my shoulder.
Suddenly, a Mind-Link forced its way into my head. Cain. A roar of aggression.
If she dies, Vera, I will kill you myself. You are my mate, but I will reject you. I will make you a Rogue.
My heart didn't even flutter. The bond felt like a rotting rope.
Save your breath, Cain. I didn't send it.
I unlocked my door. The hallway was empty.
I walked silently down the corridor. As I passed my parents' bedroom, the door was slightly ajar. Hushed voices.
I stopped.
"...doctor says her blood count is unstable," my father whispered. "The synthetic boosters are destroying her marrow. She needs a transfusion. Compatible donor."
"Use Vera," my mother said. Her voice was calm. Chillingly practical. "She's an Omega, she recovers fast. We can keep her here. Drain what we need weekly."
"And the engagement?" my father asked. "Cain is furious."
"Let him break it," my mother hissed. "We petition the Council. Say Vera is unstable. Unfit. We propose a new union. Cain and Eris."
"But they aren't mates."
"Who cares? Eris is an Alpha female! Think of the power! Vera can stay... she can be Eris's lady-in-waiting. Take care of their pups. We tell the public Vera is sick, that she needs to stay home for treatment. It covers the blood draws."
I stood in the shadows, gripping my bag until my knuckles turned white.
They weren't just neglecting me. They were planning to harvest me. To turn me into livestock.
"You're right," my father sighed. "It's for the good of the pack. Vera is... replaceable."
Replaceable.
Something inside me snapped. Not a bone, but a chain.
I pushed the door open.
My parents jumped. My mother's eyes widened at my combat gear.
"Vera?" she stammered. "What are you wearing?"
"I heard you," I said, voice low, vibrating with a growl.
"Vera, listen," my father stepped forward, Alpha posturing. "We are under stress..."
"You want my blood? You want me to raise her pups?"
"It is your duty!" my mother cried, pivoting to anger. "Your sister is sick!"
"She is not sick. She is withdrawing from drugs," I said coldly.
My father paled. "What did you say?"
"Check her blood for synthetics. If you were a real Alpha, you would have smelled it."
I turned around.
"Where are you going?" my mother shrieked. "You can't leave! You are grounded!"
"I am not a child. And I am not yours."
I walked toward the stairs.
"Vera!" my father bellowed, using his Alpha Command. "STOP!"
The command hit me like a physical wall. My muscles seized. My wolf whined.
But I wasn't just a pack member. I was a warrior of the North. In the North, pain is just information.
I gritted my teeth. Forced my leg to move. Then the other.
I shattered the command.
My father gasped. An Omega breaking an Alpha Command? Impossible.
I didn't look back.
