The chandeliers in the Graymist pack house dining hall were too bright. I'd noticed that before, but tonight the light felt like it was pressing down on my skin, making everything sharp and exposed. I sat at the far end of the long table, wedged between two Delta wolves who hadn't spoken to me once during the entire meal. That was normal. I was used to being invisible here.

Bodie stood at the head of the table, his Alpha aura filling the room the way it always did when he wanted everyone's attention. He looked good tonight. He always looked good. Dark hair, strong jaw, that easy confidence that made other wolves lean in when he spoke. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, responding to the mate bond even now, even after three years of this.

Nina sat to his right, in the seat that should have been mine. She wore a deep blue dress that probably cost more than most wolves here made in a month. Her hair was perfect. Her smile was perfect. Everything about her screamed high-born, powerful bloodline, exactly the kind of she-wolf an Alpha was supposed to want.

I looked down at my own plain gray dress. It was clean and neat, but that was all you could say about it. Margaret, Bodie's mother, had made it very clear over the years that I shouldn't draw attention to myself. "Know your place," she'd said more than once, her voice dripping with that particular kind of cruelty that came wrapped in advice.

Bodie raised his glass. The room went quiet.

"Tonight is a significant evening for Graymist," he said, his voice carrying easily. "We're celebrating the beginning of what I believe will be a very beneficial alliance with Silverpine Pack."

Polite applause rippled through the room. I didn't clap. My hands were in my lap, my thumb moving slowly along the inside of my wrist. It was a habit I'd had since childhood, something I did when I needed to stay calm.

Bodie turned to Nina, his smile widening. "I want to introduce someone very special. This is Nina Kennedy, a distinguished she-wolf of Silverpine heritage. Her family has deep roots in one of the most respected packs on the continent."

Nina stood gracefully, inclining her head. The wolves around the table murmured appreciatively. I watched Margaret beam at her son, pride radiating from every line of her face.

I felt Bodie's attention shift. For a moment, I thought he might acknowledge me. The mate bond pulled tight in my chest, that constant thread connecting us whether I wanted it to or not. I reached for his hand instinctively as he moved, the gesture automatic after three years of trying to bridge the distance between us.

His fingers were warm under mine for exactly one second.

Then he looked down. His eyes met mine. There was nothing in them. No recognition, no warmth, nothing that said he remembered I was his mate, that the Moon Goddess herself had tied our souls together.

He pulled his hand away.

The movement was smooth, casual, like he was brushing off a piece of lint. He turned back to the room without a word, leaving my hand suspended in empty air.

Something in my chest twisted. Not broke. Twisted. Like a blade being turned very slowly.

"And this," Bodie said, gesturing vaguely in my direction without actually looking at me, "is Scarlet. She's just an Omega who handles errands around the pack house. Helps with paperwork, that sort of thing."

Just an Omega who handles errands.

The words hung in the air. I heard them clearly. Everyone heard them clearly.

Margaret's smile sharpened. Nina glanced at me, and there was something in her eyes that looked like satisfaction, like she'd won a competition I hadn't known we were having.

I set my glass down. The sound of it touching the table was very precise, very controlled. I stood up. My chair didn't scrape. I'd learned a long time ago how to move through this pack house without making noise, without taking up space, without being noticed.

No one stopped me as I walked toward the door. No one called my name. The conversation had already moved on, Bodie saying something about trade routes and territory agreements, his voice warm and engaged in a way it never was when he spoke to me.

The night air outside was cold and sharp. I walked away from the pack house, away from the lights and the voices, until I was standing alone in the dark near the tree line.

I ran my thumb along my wrist again. Once. Twice.

Then I did something I hadn't done in three years.

I opened the mind-link I'd kept sealed since the day I walked into Graymist. The one that connected me to my father.

Alexander answered immediately. His presence in my mind was vast and steady, like he'd been waiting at the threshold every single day, patient as stone.

*Scarlet.*

His voice was careful. He didn't ask what was wrong. He didn't ask why I was reaching out now. He just waited.

*I'm ready to come home,* I said.

There was a pause. When he spoke again, there was something in his tone I couldn't quite name. Relief, maybe. Or vindication.

*The Lunar Summit is in two weeks,* he said. *Your introduction has been prepared since the day you left.*

I closed my eyes. Somewhere behind me, I could still hear the faint sounds of laughter from the pack house. Bodie's voice, rising above the others.

*I'll be there,* I said.

I severed the link and stood alone in the dark, feeling the mate bond pull and twist in my chest like something dying.

But I didn't cry.

I was done being small.

The morning after the dinner, Margaret found me in the hallway outside the Alpha's office.

"Scarlet," she said, her voice carrying that particular brightness that always preceded something unpleasant. "The great hall needs scrubbing. The floor, specifically. Before noon."

I looked at her. She was dressed impeccably as always, her hair styled, her posture perfect. The former Luna of Graymist, still acting like she wore the title.

"The cleaning staff handles that," I said quietly.

"The cleaning staff is busy with preparations for the Silverpine delegation's extended visit." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "You're not busy, are you? After all, you're just here to handle errands."

Just an Omega who handles errands. Bodie's words from last night, now being used as a weapon. I shouldn't have been surprised.

I nodded once. "I'll take care of it."

"Good." She turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and there are supply crates in the storage area that need moving to the west wing. Heavy ones. I'm sure you can manage."

She walked away, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. I stood there for a moment, my thumb moving along my wrist. Once. Twice.

Then I went to find a bucket and scrub brush.

The great hall was massive. The floor was already clean. That wasn't the point. I knelt down and started scrubbing anyway, working in slow, methodical circles. Warriors passed through on their way to training. Some ignored me. Others glanced down with expressions that ranged from pity to contempt.

Margaret appeared twice, each time with a small audience. She didn't speak to me directly, but her voice carried.

"It's generous of Bodie, really, letting her stay. Most Alphas wouldn't keep a packless she-wolf around with so little to offer."

I kept scrubbing. The water in the bucket turned gray.

"She should be grateful he hasn't expelled her entirely. The pack house isn't a charity."

My hands were red and raw by the time I finished. I moved to the storage area next. The crates were exactly as heavy as Margaret had implied. I hauled them one by one, my muscles burning, sweat soaking through my shirt. A group of Deltas watched from the doorway. One of them laughed.

I didn't stop. I didn't speak. I counted each crate. Twelve in total. By the time I finished, my shoulders were screaming and my hands were shaking.

Margaret inspected my work with a critical eye. "Adequate," she said finally. "You may go."

I walked back to my small room at the far end of the pack house. The room they'd given me three years ago, barely bigger than a closet. I sat on the edge of the narrow bed and looked at my hands. They were blistered and filthy.

Two weeks, I thought. Just two weeks.

I could feel my wolf stirring inside me, restless and angry. She'd been patient for three years, suppressed and silent. Now she wanted out. She wanted to show them exactly what they'd been dismissing.

Soon, I told her. Soon.

The mind-link came three days later.

Bodie's voice in my head was smooth, unhurried. *Meet me at the north border clearing. We need to discuss pack matters.*

I didn't respond immediately. I let the silence stretch, feeling the mate bond pull between us like a thread being tested.

*When?* I asked finally.

*Now.*

The clearing was a twenty-minute walk from the pack house. It was neutral ground, technically outside Graymist's inner territory. I'd been there before, usually when Bodie needed to discuss something he didn't want overheard.

He was already waiting when I arrived. He stood with his back to me, looking out at the tree line. His posture was relaxed, confident. Alpha.

I stopped a few feet away and waited.

He turned. His eyes swept over me, and I wondered what he saw. Did he notice the blisters on my hands? The exhaustion I'd been carrying for three years?

"Scarlet," he said. His voice was warm. Too warm. "Thank you for coming."

I didn't respond.

He took a step closer. "I know things have been... complicated lately. With the Silverpine alliance. With Nina."

I ran my thumb along my wrist. He didn't notice.

"But I want you to understand," he continued, "that you're still important to the pack. To me."

The mate bond twisted in my chest. I could feel what he wanted. He wanted me to stay quiet, stay available, stay in the background where I'd always been. His emotional anchor. His invisible support.

"I need you here," he said. "Graymist needs you. The work you do—"

"The errands," I said quietly.

He blinked. "What?"

"The errands I handle. As an Omega."

Something flickered across his face. Discomfort, maybe. Or annoyance. "That was... I was simplifying things for the guests. You know how pack politics work."

"I do," I said. "I've been managing them for three years."

His jaw tightened. Before he could respond, his eyes went distant. Someone was mind-linking him. I watched his expression shift, saw the exact moment his attention left me.

"The Silverpine delegation is arriving early," he said, already turning. "I need to—"

He started walking away. Mid-conversation. Mid-sentence.

"Bodie."

My voice wasn't loud. It wasn't sharp. But he stopped.

I took a breath. "The mate bond means nothing to a wolf who treats his mate like a servant."

He turned back, his eyes narrowing.

"You can't invoke a sacred bond with one hand," I continued, my voice steady and precise, "while reaching for a shinier option with the other."

"Watch your tone," he said. The Alpha command was there, pressing down on the air between us.

I looked at him. Really looked at him. And I felt nothing but a distant, cold clarity.

"You want me to stay," I said. "You want me available. You want me grateful. But you won't even finish a conversation before running to her."

His aura flared. "I am your Alpha."

"You were supposed to be my mate."

The words hung between us. I watched him process them, watched the Alpha authority in his expression fracture just slightly.

I didn't wait for his response. I turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the clearing.

Behind me, I heard him call my name. Once. Then nothing.

I didn't look back.

The trading post sat on neutral ground between three pack territories. I'd been there twice before, both times running errands for Margaret. She liked sending me to places where other packs' she-wolves gathered. I think she enjoyed the idea of me being seen as Graymist's servant in front of witnesses.

Today I'd come alone. Not for Margaret. For myself.

The post was busy. She-wolves moved between stalls displaying everything from imported fabrics to rare herbs. Most wore the confident postures of wolves with rank, with packs, with names that meant something. I recognized a few faces from pack gatherings over the years. None of them recognized me.

I stopped at a jewelry stall near the back. The merchant was an older she-wolf named Vera. Her hair was silver, her hands steady as she arranged items on black velvet. A moonstone pendant caught the light. It was simple but beautiful, the stone's surface shifting between blue and white.

I reached out, not quite touching it.

"Interested?" Vera's voice was quiet, assessing.

"Just looking," I said.

She nodded and turned to help another customer. I let my fingers hover over the pendant, watching the way the light moved through it. My wolf stirred. She liked it. She wanted it. Not because it was expensive or rare, but because it was beautiful and we were allowed to want beautiful things.

I was still looking at it when I heard her voice.

"What would a packless Omega want with jewelry like that?"

Nina's voice carried. It was designed to carry. I looked up. She stood a few feet away, flanked by two she-wolves I didn't recognize. Her dress was pale pink today, perfectly fitted. Her smile was sharp.

The trading post didn't go silent. That would have been too dramatic. But conversations near us slowed. Heads turned. She-wolves paused mid-transaction to watch.

Nina stepped closer to the stall. "Moonstone pendants are for she-wolves of noble blood. Family heirlooms. Mating gifts." She glanced at me, then at the pendant. "Not for wolves who scrub floors."

I didn't move. My thumb found the inside of my wrist. Once. Twice.

Nina reached toward the counter where the pendant lay. Not grabbing it, but claiming the space around it. Establishing ownership through proximity. "Vera, I'd like to see this piece. My family has a collection of moonstones. I'm sure this would complement them beautifully."

Vera had gone very still.

I watched the old merchant's face. Her eyes were on me. Not on Nina. Not on the pendant. On me.

Something shifted in her expression. Her nostrils flared slightly, like she was scenting something. Her pupils dilated. Then she did something I hadn't expected.

She bowed.

Not a polite nod. A full, deep bow. The kind you gave to an Alpha. Or higher.

The trading post noticed. Conversations stopped now. Actually stopped.

Vera straightened slowly. Her hands were shaking slightly as she lifted the moonstone pendant from its velvet display. She held it with both hands, presenting it to me with the kind of reverence I'd only ever seen directed at my father.

"Princess," she said quietly. "Please accept this with my deepest respect."

The word hung in the air like a gunshot.

I looked at her. She met my eyes steadily, and I saw recognition there. Real recognition. She'd sensed something. My suppressed aura had slipped, just for a moment, and she'd felt it.

I took the pendant. "Thank you, Vera."

My voice was calm. Normal. Like this happened every day.

Vera bowed again. Deeper this time.

I turned and walked away. I didn't look at Nina. I didn't need to. I could feel the shock radiating from her like heat.

Behind me, the trading post erupted in whispers.

I was halfway back to Graymist territory when I felt the mate bond twist. Bodie was agitated about something. The sensation was distant, muffled by three years of practice at ignoring it.

I kept walking.

---

Nina's mind-link must have reached Bodie during dinner.

I wasn't there. I was in my small room, the moonstone pendant sitting on the narrow windowsill where the light could catch it. But I heard about it later from one of the kitchen staff who liked to gossip.

Apparently, Nina had gone pale mid-meal. Her eyes had gone distant the way they did when someone was mind-linking. Then she'd leaned toward Bodie, whispering urgently.

Bodie had laughed.

Loud enough that the whole table heard.

"A merchant bowed to her?" His voice had been full of amused disbelief. "Vera's been running that post for forty years. She's probably confused half the bloodlines on the continent by now."

The wolves around the table had laughed with him. Nina hadn't.

"I'm telling you," she'd insisted, her voice lower now. "Something was wrong. The way Vera looked at her—"

"You're being paranoid," Bodie had said, still smiling. He'd reached over and squeezed her hand. "Scarlet is packless. She has no bloodline, no rank, no connections. A confused old she-wolf's mistake doesn't change that."

The conversation had moved on. Nina had stayed quiet for the rest of the meal.

But when I heard the story, I thought about the look in her eyes at the trading post. The shock. The fear.

She'd felt something shift. She didn't know what it was yet. But she'd felt it.

Good.

I picked up the moonstone pendant and held it up to the light. It shifted between blue and white, beautiful and simple.

One week until the Lunar Summit.

I set the pendant down and closed my eyes, feeling my wolf stir beneath my skin. Patient. Waiting.

Soon.