The grand entrance of the Silverclaw Pack House loomed before me, its towering stone columns and intricate wolf carvings a testament to our pack's power and my family's legacy. I stood straight-backed and poised, my father's signet ring heavy on my finger as I waited. Three days. Three days since Clyde had left for diplomatic negotiations with the Blood River Pack.

The black SUV's engine rumbled as it pulled up the circular driveway, gravel crunching beneath its tires. My pack members gathered behind me in neat rows, as protocol demanded. They expected their Alpha and Luna to present a united front.

"He's home!" someone whispered excitedly.

I forced a smile. "Indeed."

The car door opened, and Clyde stepped out, his broad shoulders squared in that practiced Alpha stance he'd perfected since our mating ceremony. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, his jawline shadowed with stubble. He looked every bit the returning hero.

"Morgan." His voice carried across the driveway as he approached, arms already opening for an embrace. "Did you miss me?"

The pack members shifted expectantly. This was the moment for a loving reunion, a public display of our bond.

I stepped forward, my heart pounding with anticipation. But as Clyde drew closer, something made me freeze.

The scent hit me like a physical blow.

Beneath his natural pine and earth scent was something else entirely. Something floral and cheap—vanilla perfume, the kind sold in human discount stores. And underneath that, unmistakable to my Lycan senses, was the musky odor of sex.

My stomach twisted into knots as Clyde's arms reached for me. Every instinct screamed at me to recoil, to bare my teeth, to—

"Morgan?" His brow furrowed as I remained rigid. "What's wrong?"

The pack members murmured behind us. I could feel their confusion, their curiosity.

Clyde's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Then, straightening to his full height, he employed the one tool he thought would work: his Alpha tone.

"Come here, Morgan." The command rolled off his tongue, deep and authoritative.

I felt the pressure of it wash over me—and then dissipate like mist against stone. My royal bloodline made me immune to such commands.

Clyde's eyes widened slightly at my continued immobility.

"You smell of the road," I said, my voice cool and even as I sidestepped his embrace. "You need a shower."

The whispers behind us grew louder. Clyde's face flushed dark red.

"I've been negotiating for three days straight," he said through clenched teeth. "Of course I smell."

"And yet," I replied, meeting his gaze steadily, "you expected me to welcome you without hesitation?"

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes—a glimpse of the man beneath the charming facade. Then it was gone, replaced by practiced charm.

"Forgive me, Luna." He bowed slightly, playing to our audience. "I'll make it up to you tonight."

I nodded curtly and turned away, my composure intact but my hands trembling as I walked toward my office. Only when the heavy oak door closed behind me did I allow myself to react.

My fingers gripped the edge of my desk until the wood creaked in protest. The scent still lingered in my nostrils—vanilla and sex and betrayal.

"Kayla Woods," I whispered to the empty room.

The Omega had been absent from her kitchen duties for three days. Coincidence? Hardly.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, forcing my racing heart to slow. I would not lose control. Not here. Not now.

Royal blood didn't permit such weaknesses.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Enter," I commanded.

Dorian Voss, my loyal Gamma and head enforcer, stepped into the room. His expression remained neutral, but his eyes held a question.

"You mind-linked me," he said simply.

"Yes." I moved to my chair and sat down, gesturing for him to take the seat opposite mine. "I need information."

Dorian nodded, waiting.

"Clyde's trip to Blood River Pack," I began, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "I need to know if he actually went there."

Understanding dawned in Dorian's eyes. "You think he didn't."

"I know he didn't." I met his gaze directly. "Or at least, not for the entire time he was gone."

Dorian's expression hardened. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Hotel records," I said without hesitation. "Neutral territory. Somewhere he thought I wouldn't look."

"And if I find something?"

"Bring it to me immediately." I touched my father's signet ring, drawing strength from it. "And Dorian? Discreetly. No one else needs to know."

He nodded once and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Dorian?" I added as he reached the door. "Check Kayla Woods' whereabouts for the past three days as well."

As the door closed behind him, I leaned back in my chair and allowed myself one moment of pure, unfiltered rage. Then I locked it away and began to plan.

Clyde thought he could betray me and remain Alpha? He had no idea what he'd awakened.

No idea at all.

The knock on my study door came precisely at 9 AM. I'd been awake since dawn, my mind racing with possibilities, each more damning than the last.

"Enter," I commanded, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.

Dorian stepped in, his expression grim. He carried a tablet and a manila folder, his movements efficient as always.

"Luna Morgan," he said with a slight bow. "I have the information you requested."

I gestured to the chair across from my desk. "Tell me."

Dorian placed the folder between us and opened it. "My scouts confirm that Alpha Clyde's vehicle never crossed into Blood River territory."

I'd expected this, but hearing it confirmed still sent a wave of cold fury through me. "Where did he go?"

"The Luna's Respite," Dorian said, his distaste evident in the slight curl of his lip. "A hotel in neutral territory known for... discretion."

The Luna's Respite. I knew of it—a place where pack politics were left at the door, where secrets stayed buried beneath silk sheets and champagne toasts.

"Kayla Woods was with him," I said. It wasn't a question.

Dorian nodded. "Security footage shows them arriving together. They stayed for three days."

Three days of betrayal. Three days of lies.

"I need those security logs," I said, touching my father's signet ring. "Every moment they were there."

"Already in motion," Dorian replied. "I've contacted a former packmate who works their security. He'll send us everything."

I nodded, dismissing him with a gesture. "Keep me updated."

After he left, I moved to my computer and entered my password—a sequence of numbers and symbols that would be meaningless to anyone else. The pack's encrypted treasury logs appeared on screen.

I'd designed this system myself, a labyrinth of digital protection that would take even the most skilled hacker months to penetrate. Clyde had always praised my "pretty little hobby" of security architecture, never understanding that it was far more than that.

Now, I was grateful for his underestimation.

I scrolled through the transactions, my eyes catching on a pattern that had been hidden in plain sight. Small transfers—five thousand here, ten thousand there—spread out over six months. Each one just below the threshold that would trigger automatic alerts.

"Careful," I whispered to myself. "So careful."

But not careful enough.

I added up the totals in my head, then cross-referenced them with a property management app on my phone. The numbers matched perfectly—the cost of a rogue-safe sanctuary villa being constructed on the edge of our territory.

A love nest. Funded by my pack's money.

I switched screens and pulled up the shell company information. "K.W. Consulting." Kayla Woods. How brazen. How stupid.

The villa was nearly complete—a modern fortress with silver-laced foundations and moonstone windows. All the materials were top-grade, designed to keep out even the most determined rogue wolf.

Or perhaps, designed to keep someone in.

I stood and moved to the window, needing to clear my head. The morning sun cast long shadows across the pack grounds as members went about their daily duties. Everything looked normal. Calm.

A lie.

Movement caught my eye—a figure walking through the side gate. Kayla. She looked exhausted, her shoulders slumped as if carrying an invisible weight.

"Visiting her sick aunt," I murmured, remembering the excuse she'd given for her absence.

I watched as she adjusted her collar, pulling it higher as if to hide something. But the sunlight caught it anyway—a glint of blue-white stone against her throat.

My breath caught.

The Moonstone amulet—my mother's gift on my sixteenth birthday. An heirloom passed down through generations of Lycan females. It had disappeared from my bedroom vault a week ago.

I'd torn the room apart looking for it, convinced one of our younger pack members had stolen it as a prank.

Now it hung around Kayla's neck like a trophy.

Something snapped inside me—not a bone or tendon, but something deeper. The last thread of hope that this might all be some terrible mistake.

It wasn't just infidelity. It wasn't just embezzlement.

It was usurpation.

Kayla wasn't just sleeping with my mate—she was trying to become me.

I gripped the windowsill until my knuckles turned white, forcing myself to breathe slowly. In. Out. In. Out.

Royal blood doesn't permit weakness.

And I was my father's daughter.

I reached for my phone and texted Dorian: "Find out who authorized the construction of the villa. And get me everything we have on Kayla Woods. Everything."

As I waited for his reply, I watched Kayla disappear into the pack house, my mother's amulet glinting in the sun like a beacon of betrayal.

The door to my office burst open without warning, the sound of splintering wood echoing through the room as Clyde strode in. His face was contorted with anger, eyes flashing dangerously as he slammed the door behind him.

"What the hell was that out there?" he demanded, his voice low and threatening. "You embarrassed me in front of the entire pack."

I remained seated behind my desk, my posture relaxed but my senses alert. "You smelled of another woman, Clyde. What did you expect?"

"I expected my Luna to act like a proper mate!" He slammed his palms down on my desk, leaning forward until his face was inches from mine. "Not some cold, calculating—"

"Careful," I interrupted, my voice soft but carrying an edge that made him pause. "Remember who you're speaking to."

Something flickered in his eyes—a momentary reminder of who held the true power here. Then his expression shifted, calculating as he straightened up.

"Fine. Let's discuss business instead." His tone changed, becoming almost pleasant. "I need the final blueprints for the Silverclaw Fortress."

I raised an eyebrow. "The blueprints aren't due until next week."

"I need them tonight," he insisted, his jaw tightening. "The Grand Alpha Summit is in three days. If I'm going to secure my Council seat, I need to present something impressive."

"And you think my designs will impress?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Of course." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "As Alpha, I should be the one to present them. It's only proper."

There it was—the subtle claim to my work. My months of calculations, of sleepless nights perfecting every detail, reduced to his propaganda piece.

"Those designs are still in draft form," I said carefully.

"Then finalize them." He checked his watch impatiently. "I need them by midnight."

After he left, I sat motionless for several minutes, processing his demands. It wasn't just about presenting my work—he intended to take full credit. And if I knew Clyde, he'd hand those designs to Kayla, letting her claim the genius behind them.

A plan formed in my mind—not impulsive or emotional, but cold and calculated. Just like me.

I opened my drafting software, the familiar interface glowing blue in the dim light of my office. The Silverclaw Fortress designs were my masterpiece—a comprehensive defense system that would protect our territory from any attack.

But now, I would make it a trap.

I pulled up the Northern Sector schematic, studying the intricate sensor grid and foundation specifications. With careful precision, I introduced a flaw—a blind spot in the sensor coverage that would be nearly impossible to detect without thorough analysis.

Next, I modified the foundation specifications, weakening the structural integrity in a way that would be invisible to anyone but an expert eye. If built according to these plans, the Northern Wall would collapse under the first serious assault.

"Perfect," I whispered, admiring my handiwork.

I printed the modified blueprints, labeling them clearly as "Final Drafts—Approved by Luna Morgan Alexander." Then I placed them in the safe hidden behind a false panel in my office wall.

The safe's digital lock required a code. I entered my birthday—a code I knew Clyde had watched me use countless times.

"Too obvious?" I wondered aloud, then smiled. "Not for someone as arrogant as you."

Finally, I called in my housekeeper. "I'll be visiting the Royal Lycan territory tomorrow," I announced, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. "I'll be gone for the day. Please inform the staff that my office will be closed until my return."

As the housekeeper nodded and left, I caught a glimpse of movement outside my door—a shadow that quickly disappeared.

"Let them come," I murmured, touching my father's signet ring for courage. "Let them think they've won."

I closed my eyes, imagining Clyde's smug satisfaction when he discovered the "unprotected" office and the easily accessed safe. Imagining Kayla's delight at claiming my work as her own.

And I imagined their faces when they realized what I'd done.

The trap was set. Now all I had to do was wait.