Lyra pressed a prettily decorated glass vial into Kael's palm.

She lifted her doe eyes, her gaze shimmering with unshed tears, soft enough to melt anyone watching. Her scent—deliberately sweetened with submission—curled through the healing chamber like honey-laced poison.

No one who witnessed them together could possibly believe there was nothing between these two.

Lyra bit her lip, reluctance written all over her face as she turned to leave. Passing by me, she lowered her voice in explanation:

"Selene, this was my mistake. I let Beta-Commander Kael take the vehicle before the safety wards were properly inspected, and then the route incident happened."

"Please don't misunderstand—that vial contains origami wishing stars I folded myself, praying for Beta-Commander Kael's leg to heal quickly."

The safety wards weren't properly inspected?

But the pack-funded trade outpost had specifically sent word for me to collect the vehicle.

And that last time my brakes failed on the mountain pass—was that also because the vehicle "wasn't properly inspected"?

"Selene, I've been meaning to explain about the trade outpost."

Kael's voice pulled me back to the present.

We were alone in the healing chamber now. A smile spread across his face as he carefully set the glass vial on the stone ledge beside his bed, then reached out to pull me closer. His wolf's presence brushed against mine—familiar, yet now it made my skin crawl.

"She just completed her training, and it happened to be her birth moon—I only gave her a small gift. Don't tell me my Alpha mate is jealous?"

He said it so casually, as if he'd given away nothing more than some forgettable trinket.

I stepped aside, avoiding his touch. My wolf bristled beneath my skin.

"So this is your type?"

The air went still. Even the healing herbs seemed to stop their gentle smoking.

Kael's expression flickered. He rubbed his brow. "I didn't tell you because I was worried you'd overthink things."

"Lyra and I are completely innocent. We—"

"I don't care."

I cut him off, my tone bored.

"I haven't caught you sharing a den with her—yet. But I don't tolerate even a grain of sand in my eye, Kael. You'd better bury whatever inappropriate thoughts you're entertaining. Don't force me to tear this whole arrangement wide open before the Elders."

Kael looked up at me, disbelief written across his face.

"You don't trust me?"

I gazed down at him, my eyes flat and unreadable. My silence was answer enough.

He opened his mouth to say something more, but the communication crystal on his ledge chose that moment to pulse with light.

The sender's mark glowed unmistakably—Lyra's signature, impossibly bright.

Kael hesitated, then answered. Lyra's soft, fragile voice immediately floated through the crystal:

"Beta-Commander, is Selene giving you a hard time? Even if she's angry, please don't fight with her, okay?"

"I ordered bone-strengthening broth from the Eastern Den kitchens for you. I was afraid Selene might misunderstand, so I won't deliver it myself."

Two sentences. She'd managed to play the sweet, considerate Omega while subtly reminding everyone just how close she and Kael really were.

I didn't move. My wolf wanted to snarl, but I held her back.

Kael glanced at my expression and ended the connection.

I laughed coldly to myself. I had no interest in playing these games with him any longer. I turned and walked toward the chamber door.

"Selene!"

Kael called out urgently.

"You're really angry?"

"I promise I'll stay far away from her. I won't contact her ever again. Please don't be so cold to me?"

"My leg hurts..."

I paused, turning my head just slightly. My voice could have frozen the northern territories.

"If your leg hurts, summon the pack healer. I have duties at the Central Den. Rest well."

Outside the healing wing, the cold wind hit my face, finally tamping down some of the fury coiled in my chest. The moon hung low, casting silver light across the stone pathways of Nightfall territory.

I pulled out my communication crystal and reached out to my assistant, Arin Stormclaw.

"Dig into Lyra Frostveil. Track her scent-trail, her movements—everything. I suspect she had something to do with my ward failure last time."

After that last maintenance at the craftsman's den, my vehicle's safety wards had given out on the mountain pass. I'd swerved into a barrier of spelled stones—the only thing that saved me from plunging into the ravine below.

That evening, the territory manager of a high-end jeweler's outpost arrived at my private den on Kael's orders, presenting dozens of exquisite moon-blessed pieces for me to choose from.

"Beta-Commander Kael is so devoted to you! To be cherished like this by your intended mate—it's truly enviable."

I swept my gaze over the glittering display, feeling nothing but bitter irony. My wolf paced restlessly inside me, sensing the deception even if my heart wanted to deny it.

"Don't you know? The night a male betrays his mate bond, he always comes home telling her 'You're my true mate'—over and over—just to ease his own guilt."

Kael assumed I was throwing a tantrum—like those pampered Alpha-born females who discover their mate's wandering eye and dissolve into tears, threats, and dramatics before eventually being soothed with rare pelts and territory gifts.

But he forgot who he was dealing with.

I'm Selene Blackwood.

The sole heir of the Blackwood bloodline. I claimed leadership of our pack at eighteen. By twenty-two, I'd torn my way through the brutal politics of the inter-pack alliances, leaving broken rivals in my wake.

At twenty-five, I returned to our ancestral territory and entered this arranged mating with him—not because my wolf couldn't survive without his, but because of the blood-oath between our fathers.

Because he promised me forever. One bond, one heart, just the two of us.

The joke was on me.

In just five short years, he'd tossed those vows aside like rotting meat.

The next day, I received a message through the pack's private communication channel from Lyra. Her words read:

"Selene, I'd like to explain about your vehicle's safety ward issue."

The day was impossibly hectic—back-to-back pack council sessions from dawn till dusk, then a rushed journey to the Eastern Reaches for my aunt's celebration feast.

I didn't have a moment to respond until I arrived.

Lyra immediately sent a voice recording. The gist: the craftsman who serviced my vehicle was a temporary worker who'd since vanished into the wild. Unreachable. Convenient.

I didn't respond. But as I swiped through her shared feed, my finger slipped, landing me on her recent posts.

The latest was from thirty minutes ago.

Kael sat on the fur-covered settee in our private den, drinking broth. Behind him, I could see the ancient tapestry I'd paid a fortune for at the Elders' auction, and the hand-woven ceremonial rug I'd had crafted by the mountain artisans.

But what made my vision blur with rage was Lyra.

She was wearing my favorite sleeping silks. My house slippers.

Beaming, she leaned against him, one hand holding up her device, the other flashing a peace sign.

The caption read:

"Finally able to care for you while you're unwell. Even though I've been misunderstood, the truth speaks for itself. Homemade bone broth, made with devotion—heal quickly, my heart. "

I captured the image and sent it to Kael:

"Living in MY den. Wearing MY clothes. Getting cozy with MY bonded mate. And you call this 'innocent'?!"

His reply came instantly:

"Selene, she got her clothes dirty making me soup. She's just borrowing something temporarily. She meant well. Don't overthink it."

I laughed—a cold, hollow sound that rumbled low in my chest.

"Meant well?"

"More like the soup was an excuse to worm her way into our den and into your bed. Wearing my clothes, playing house—what, does she think if she plays the nesting female long enough, she'll graduate from marked favorite to true mate?"

"Do you have to be so harsh?"

Kael's tone shifted, an edge creeping in:

"You're never around. She came specifically to care for me. Would it kill you to show a little grace?"

"Selene, you weren't like this before. When did you become so aggressive? So cold?"

I stared at the screen, so furious I almost laughed.

Aggressive? Cold?

When the Nightfall Pack's resources collapsed, it was my aggression that drove my pack through a month of sleepless nights to secure the alliance pact that saved his territory.

When his father was critically ill from the wasting sickness, it was this cold female who shelved a massive territory acquisition to spend two weeks sleeping in a chair by his bedside in the healing chambers.

He used to say he admired my boldness in pack politics. My decisiveness. My killer instinct.

Now that he had a sweet, gentle little Omega by his side, suddenly I was too harsh? Too cold?

Aunt Elara Blackwood insisted I stay to keep her company during the bloodline gathering, so it wasn't until the third day that I caught the earliest route home.

The scent-ward lock hadn't been changed.

But my scent signature had been removed from the wards.

I stood at my own den's entrance and announced my presence.

Lyra answered.

This time, she wore Kael's sleep shirt. The hem barely grazed her thighs. Her hair hung wet and tousled, like she'd just stepped out of the bathing pool.

"Selene?" She widened her eyes in practiced surprise. "You're back? Kael's still sleeping..."

I cut her off.

"Last I checked, I don't need permission to enter my own den."

"Move."

"That's not what I meant." She planted herself in the doorway, chin lifted in defiance.

"But Beta-Commander Nightfall is still resting, and you seem upset, Selene. I was worried you might disturb him..."

I refused to waste my breath on her. I shoved her aside with enough force to make my point clear.

"Move."

Kael stirred from the commotion and emerged from the sleeping chamber on his crutches, his injured leg still bound in healing wraps.

Sensing the tension crackling between us like static before a storm, he frowned.

"What's going on?"

Lyra's tears spilled before she could even speak, her voice trembling with practiced fragility.

"Beta-Commander, I'm so sorry. You were exhausted last night, and I just wanted to let you sleep longer. I didn't mean to offend Selene."

She sobbed in little hiccups, the picture of a bullied omega—all soft whimpers and downcast eyes.

But her ears were flushed a telling crimson, and the bitter tang of guilt clung to her scent.

Kael turned his head to cough twice before speaking, his voice rough with sleep and something else I couldn't name.

"Selene, you've really misunderstood Lyra. Apologize to her."

I ignored him and settled onto the carved stone seating.

My gaze drifted to the display shelf near the hearth. The framed portrait of Kael and me from our mating ceremony was gone.

In its place sat a glass vessel filled with paper wishing stars—folded by Lyra's own hands.

Scattered across the low table were undergarments that didn't belong to me, lace and silk that carried her scent.

"No wonder you blocked me at the entrance. You two have been busy, haven't you?"

Lyra rushed over, crying as she gathered the intimate clothing.

"These are mine—I washed them, I was just drying them here..."

"In the main den chamber?"

I let out a cold laugh.

"With a broken leg, Kael, can you still keep her satisfied?"

Lyra's face flooded scarlet. She stammered, "Selene, you—you really have the wrong idea. Beta-Commander and I... we haven't done anything."

"Enough!"

Kael glared at me, irritation sharpening his voice into something close to a growl.

"Selene, do you have to humiliate her with such vulgar remarks?"

"She's just an innocent young omega. Unlike you—your head is full of nothing but schemes!"

I looked up at him, holding his gaze without flinching.

"What exactly am I scheming?"

"You're scheming how to humiliate her, how to destroy her reputation, how to make me bend to your every whim, orbiting around you and you alone!"

Kael's voice rose with each word, his wolf bleeding into his tone.

"Yes, I let her stay—but nothing happened between us!"

"She took care of me. I'm grateful to her. It's that simple! Why do you insist on assuming the worst about everyone?"

"I couldn't care less whether people's hearts are pure or rotten."

I pulled out a leather-bound folder.

"What I do care about is this: six months ago, you used Nightfall Pack funds and resources to establish a lucrative trade outpost for her. Twenty million in pack resources—marked as 'charitable territory investment.'"

"Tell me, Kael—did you get Elder approval? Embezzling pack funds to keep your marked favorite. How does that charge sound before the Council?"

Kael's face turned ashen, the color draining from his skin.

"You investigated me? She's not my marked favorite!"

"Then what is she?"

I stood and walked toward Lyra, each step deliberate.

"Ms. Frostveil, why don't you tell me—what exactly are you?"

Lyra bit her lip, her gaze darting between us.

"I... I just admire Beta-Commander Nightfall. I'm grateful for his help. That's why I came to take care of him for a couple of days..."

"Admire him enough to wear my clothes and sleep in my bed?"

I gestured toward the master sleeping chamber, its door left ajar.

"Kael, I saw both of you come out of that room with my own eyes. Explain that."

Kael's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath his skin.

"Believe what you want. Lyra slept on the floor to take care of me. Nothing happened!"

"I don't care whether you shared a bed or not."

I tucked the folder away and placed a bond rejection document on the low table. My tone left no room for negotiation.

"Kael, return full ownership of the trade outpost to the pack. Sign these papers like a good wolf. Assets will be divided per our mating contract terms. We end this with dignity."

"Refuse, and I'll bring charges of embezzlement and mate-betrayal before the Elders. I'll report everything to the Pack Council. Care to guess whether those old wolves will seize the chance to strip you of rank?"