Lavender stood in front of the mirror, staring hard at her reflection. The woman who looked back seemed familiar yet different. Her eyes held a fire she hadn’t noticed before. But underneath that strength was the same aching wound Cedar had carved into her heart the day he brought Fern into their lives.

Every day felt heavier than the last. Fern’s presence in the packhouse was like a thorn lodged deep, impossible to ignore.

Lavender’s mind wandered to the mornings she could barely face. She remembered standing in the doorway of the kitchen, watching Cedar move around, preparing breakfast for Fern. He never used to cook, not even for her. She watched as they shared quiet laughter over plates of food, their heads leaning close together like they were the only two people in the world. Afterward, Cedar would leave for patrols with his warriors, never once looking back at her.

The nights were worse. Cedar’s side of the bed was cold and empty more often than not. Fern’s constant demands had stolen him away, her wolf insisting she could only rest when Cedar was close. Lavender learned to shut her ears to the noise that spilled from the guest room—moans, whispers, the creak of the bed frame. She buried her face in her pillow, forcing herself to pretend it wasn’t happening.

But pretending didn’t stop the pain.

One morning, desperate for fresh air, Lavender walked into the garden. The crisp scent of flowers did little to soothe her as her eyes caught sight of Fern, surrounded by a group of women, giggling and chatting as the bitch held a pregnancy test in her hand.

Lavender’s stomach twisted, and her feet faltered. Before they could notice her, she turned to leave, but Fern's voice rang out, bright and sickly sweet.

“Luna Lavender! Wait!”

Her heart sank as Fern ran toward her, waving the test in the air. Lavender stopped, her body stiff as Fern approached.

“Look!” Fern said, shoving the test in Lavender’s face. Two bright lines stared back at her, sealing her heartbreak. “I’m pregnant!”

Lavender forced a smile, though her chest burned. “Congratulations."

But Fern wasn’t satisfied. Her lips curled into a smirk. “It’s funny, isn’t it? Cedar and I have only been together for a little while, and already the Moon Goddess has blessed us. Meanwhile, you and Cedar…” She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Oh, I forgot—you’re not real mates. Of course, you’d never have a child.”

Lavender’s hands trembled, but she dug her nails into her palms to keep calm. "Enjoy your moment, Fern," she said evenly, turning her heel. “I have things to do.”

But her retreat only seemed to fuel Fern’s irritation. “Walking away, huh? Is that all you can do?”

Before Lavender could react, Fern shoved her hard from behind. She stumbled, her feet slipping on the wet stones, and fell into the fountain. The cold water shocked her system, but the humiliation burned hotter.

Fern laughed. “Oops,” she said mockingly, crossing her arms. “Careful, Luna. Don’t slip.”

Lavender stood slowly, water dripping from her hair and clothes, her wolf roaring with fury. She stepped out of the fountain, her anger radiating off her in waves. “You really don't want to stop, do you, Fern?" Lavender growled.

Fern rolled her eyes, but before she could speak, Lavender’s hand snapped out. The sound of the slap echoed through the garden. The girls behind them gasped in shock as Fern stumbled back, a red mark already forming on her cheek.

The smugness vanished from Fern’s face, replaced by shock and rage. But before Fern could utter another word, Cedar's voice pierced the atmosphere with a sharp edge.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Lavender turned to see him striding toward them, his eyes wide with confusion and anger. Fern immediately crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks as she clutched her stomach.

“Cedar!” she cried. “Lavender hurt me! I only told her I was pregnant, and she slapped me!”

Cedar froze. His gaze darted to Fern’s tear-streaked face, then to Lavender, still dripping wet and glaring at Fern. The word "pregnant" struck him sharply, causing his expression to shift from shock to fury.

“Is it true?” he demanded. “Did you hit her?”

“She pushed me first,” Lavender said quietly, her voice tight. “I—”

But Cedar didn’t let her finish. His hand grabbed her arm roughly, dragging her toward the house. “How could you? How could you hurt her? She’s carrying my child!”

Lavender’s heart twisted at his words, but she said nothing. She didn’t resist as he pulled her into their bedroom and slammed the door shut.

“You’re cruel,” he hissed, his face inches from hers. “You’re so bitter and jealous, you’d hurt an innocent woman? A pregnant woman?”

"She did it on purpose, Cedar. I was avoiding her, but she cornered me and started the fight!"

Cedar’s anger boiled over. He slapped her, the sting sharp against her cheek. Then again, and again. Each blow shattered something inside her, but she didn’t cry, didn’t flinch. She accepted the pain, earning it to kill the remaining love she had for him. Even as the room began to spin, she didn't fight back.

When he was done, he stood there, breathing hard, his eyes filled with disgust. “You’re evil. I'm regretting that day I met you. You're not the woman I fell in love with."

Lavender didn’t respond. She only stared at him, letting the hatred in her heart grow stronger.

Lavender stood still as the white smoke swirled around her, thick and otherworldly. It carried the faint scent of herbs and moonlight, wrapping her in its embrace. She closed her eyes, her senses heightened, her heart beating steadily. The air felt alive, humming with power, as if the forest itself were watching, waiting for her transformation.

Her skin prickled, a tingling sensation spreading from her fingertips to her toes. She felt every breath, every heartbeat, as if they were magnified a hundredfold.

For so long, Lavender had carried the weight of rejection, betrayal, and loneliness. The memories of Cedar's betrayal flared in her mind—the cold nights she had endured, the mocking laughter of Fern that cut deeper than any physical wound. Those memories had been chains, binding her to a life she no longer wanted, but tonight, those chains were breaking.

Without warning, a sharp gust cut through the haze, and she sensed movement. Dahlia’s attack came swift and precise, but Lavender’s instincts kicked in. Her body twisted, narrowly dodging the healer’s strike even as her eyes remained closed. The sound of Dahlia’s movements echoed in her mind, guiding her as though she could see with her ears.

Dahlia lunged again, and this time Lavender wasn’t fast enough. Pain seared across her arms and legs as Dahlia’s claws cut into her skin. Lavender gasped. For a moment, doubt crept in. Was she truly ready? Could she overcome everything that had been holding her back? But before panic could take hold, she placed her hands over the wounds, her palms glowing faintly. Warmth spread from her touch, and in moments, the cuts closed, leaving no trace behind. She stared at her healed skin, the glow fading as quickly as it had appeared. This was her power. Not borrowed, not given by anyone else. It was hers.

A calm certainty washed over her as she opened her eyes. The bruises Cedar had left on her heart—his lies, his betrayal—no longer held power over her. She felt lighter, as if she had shed a heavy coat she hadn’t realized she was wearing. Her breaths came easier, her steps steadier.

Then it happened. Her senses sharpened beyond anything she’d ever known. The forest came alive around her, every sound and movement suddenly crystal clear. She could hear voices, distant but distinct, from the farthest reaches of the pack’s territory.

Lavender turned to Dahlia. For a moment, she was stunned. She didn’t just see the healer; she felt her. Thoughts swirled in Dahlia’s mind, and Lavender could hear them as clearly as spoken words.

She’s done it. She’s truly embraced her destiny.

A gasp escaped Lavender’s lips. She could read minds now and see into the hearts of others. The intimacy of it was startling, yet it felt right, as if this was always meant to be part of her. Tears welled in her eyes, not from sorrow but pure joy.

“I did it,” she whispered. “I’m free.”

Dahlia stepped forward, pulling her into a warm embrace. “You’re a newborn healer,” she said, rubbing her niece's back. "I know you will do great things with this gift."

Lavender tightly held onto her, allowing the tears to flow freely. For the first time in years, she felt whole, unbroken, and ready to step into the life she was always meant to live. But as the embrace ended, she looked down at her hands, trembling slightly, and felt the weight of her new reality settle over her. This was a rebirth, yes, but it was also the beginning of a new battle.

The voices in the distance still called to her. She could hear the laughter of the pups near the packhouse and the quiet murmurs of elders deep in conversation.

But she could also hear the simmering discontent of others, those who doubted her worth, who whispered about her in the shadows.

Lavender froze as a new voice drifted into her mind. Her chest tightened when she recognized Fern’s sharp, cutting tone. But it wasn’t Cedar she was talking to. The other voice was unfamiliar. Deep, steady, and cold. Lavender focused harder, sharpening her senses more as the conversation went on, like she was standing right there with them.

“You’ve got everything ready, right? I don’t want anyone catching wind of this before we make our move.”

“It’s all set. By tomorrow night, the pack’s defenses will crumble. They won’t know what hit them.”

"Good. Cedar and his precious Shadowpelt Pack have ruled long enough. When he’s out of the way, they’ll have no choice but to follow me.”

“What about his Luna? She might be more trouble than you think. The pack might rally around her if she gets in the way.”

“Lavender? Don’t make me laugh. She’s pathetic. Cedar’s barely holding onto her as it is. She’ll stay in the background like she always does. She doesn’t have the guts to fight back.”

“Still, if she gets involved—”

“Then deal with her. Make it clean, make it quiet. Nobody will miss her. By the time anyone notices, I’ll be in charge, and you’ll have what I promised.”

“You’d better make good on those promises, Fern. I’m not sticking my neck out for nothing.”

“Don’t worry. Once Cedar and his loyalists are gone, the pack’s resources will be mine—and yours.”

Lavender’s hands trembled as the conversation ended, her heart pounding so loudly it felt like it might burst from her chest. She struggled to process what she had just heard. Fern wasn’t just bitter or cruel. She was a traitor. She wanted to destroy the pack, to take everything Cedar had built, and she was willing to spill blood to do it.

The cold, calculated way Fern spoke made Lavender’s stomach turn. It wasn’t just about Cedar anymore. Fern’s betrayal could destroy the entire pack, and she had no idea who this outsider was or how far his reach extended.

“Lavender,” Dahlia said gently, stepping closer. Her steady hand rested on Lavender’s arm, grounding her. “What’s wrong?”

Lavender blinked and turned to Dahlia. “Fern is planning to attack the pack. She’s working with someone. An outsider. They’re going to take down Cedar and everyone who stands in their way.”

Dahlia’s expression darkened. “Did you hear exactly what they said?”

Lavender nodded. “She wants Cedar dead. She thinks I’m too weak to do anything about it. She told him—” Her voice broke for a moment, anger and hurt mingling. “She told him to kill me too if I get in the way.”

Lavender rushed to her bedroom. The moment the door closed behind her, she grabbed her laptop and opened it. If Fern was planning something so catastrophic, there had to be breadcrumbs somewhere. The pack might have been good at keeping their secrets from humans, but blending into the human world meant there were always traces—social media, school records, photos.

Her fingers swiftly navigated the keyboard, inputting Fern Everly. At first, it was the usual: her basic information, school records showing she had graduated from a prestigious private academy, and a public-facing job profile that boasted of her involvement in charity events and community outreach.

Lavender scoffed. “Of course, you look perfect on paper.”

Then she clicked on Fern’s social media accounts. What she saw painted a very different picture. Fern was active across multiple platforms, her pages filled with glamorous selfies, group photos, and snapshots of her at extravagant parties. She was a social butterfly, always surrounded by people, always the center of attention.

The posts were curated, of course—everything perfectly polished—but Lavender had learned to read between the lines. In one photo, Fern clinked glasses with a group of equally glamorous friends, the caption reading: To another victory! Lavender frowned. What kind of victory?

As she dug deeper, a particular post caught her eye. It was a picture of Fern in a dimly lit bar, leaning into a man whose face was partly obscured. Her head was thrown back in laughter, a drink in hand, while the man’s arm wrapped around her waist. In another shot, she was seated on his lap, her fingers playfully resting on his chest.

There was a video attached to the post. Lavender clicked it as her hands trembled. The audio was muffled, but the man’s voice was unmistakable—the same cold, deep tone she’d heard in her mind during their conversation.

“That’s him,” Lavender whispered.

She paused the video, her eyes narrowing as she studied the man’s face. He was rugged, with sharp features. Something about him felt dangerous, predatory.

With a sinking feeling, Lavender went back to Fern’s friends list, scrolling quickly. There he was. His name was Kane Blackthorn, and his profile wasn’t private. Lavender clicked on it and felt her stomach drop. Kane was a werewolf too, and according to his profile, he was from the Bloodfang Pack.

The Bloodfang Pack.

Her breath stopped. Cedar’s father had crushed the Bloodfang Pack in a brutal battle years ago, driving most of them out of the territory and scattering the survivors. They had been enemies of the Shadowpelt Pack for decades.

Fern wasn’t just working with an outsider. She was working with a sworn enemy.

Lavender’s hands trembled as she saved every photo, video, and post she could find. She transferred everything to a flash drive, knowing she needed proof to confront Cedar.

With her evidence secured, she didn’t waste another second. She stormed out of her room and headed straight for Cedar’s office.

The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open without knocking. Cedar was sitting behind his desk, papers scattered everywhere, his brow furrowed as he went over pack logistics.

“Cedar,” Lavender began.

He didn’t look up. “Not now, Lavender. I’m busy.”

“This is important,” she said, stepping closer.

Cedar finally raised his head. “I said, not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“It can’t,” Lavender insisted. “Fern is planning something dangerous. She’s working with someone from the Bloodfang Pack.”

At the mention of Fern’s name, Cedar’s expression hardened. “Don’t start this again.”

“I have proof,” Lavender pressed, holding up the flash drive. “Photos, videos—everything. Fern and this man, Kane, they’re plotting against you, against the entire pack!”

Cedar’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood. “Enough!” he barked. I won’t listen to you slander Fern. She’s been nothing but loyal to this pack.”

“She’s lying to you!” Lavender shouted back. “She doesn’t care about this pack. She’s trying to destroy it!”

Cedar’s eyes flashed with anger. “One more word against her, and I’ll have you locked up for insubordination. Do you understand me?”

Lavender stared at him. He didn’t believe her. Worse, he was so blinded by whatever spell Fern had cast over him that he refused to even look at the evidence.

Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the office.

How could he be so blind? How could he threaten her when all she was trying to do was protect the pack?

As she paced the hallway, trying to calm her racing thoughts, one name came to mind: Flint. The Beta was loyal to the pack above all else. If anyone would listen to her, it would be him.

Without hesitation, she made her way to Flint’s quarters. She knocked once, then twice, before the door swung open. Flint stood there, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Luna? What’s wrong?”