My life was complicated. I needed to see Maya and ask questions. Maya didn’t open her door when I knocked.

She knew it was me. I could hear her pacing inside, the soft creak of aged floorboards under her paws.

“You’re putting yourself in danger,” she said through the wood.

“So are you, if you wait too long,” I answered.

Silence stretched between us like a pulled thread. Then, the door eased open.

She looked older than I remembered. Or maybe I was just seeing clearly now. Tired eyes, cautious shoulders. She motioned me inside.

“You need to rest,” she murmured, already reaching for the poultice jar.

“I need to know,” I said. “Why does he hate me?”

Maya stopped.

The question hung in the air. It wasn’t sudden. It had lived in me for moons. Beneath every silence, every snapped command, every time he looked at me like I was something he had to tolerate.

She didn’t meet my eyes. “Because he never wanted you.”

“That much I figured.”

“No,” she said, quietly, “you don’t understand. He was ordered to marry you. By the former Alpha.”

I sat slowly. The stone beneath me was cold. “My father.”

Maya flinched. “The one who adopted you, yes. You were a gift to the pack. Found after a rogue attack, barely alive. No memory. He raised you like his own.”

She sat across from me. “When he died, you were barely of age. Rodriguez was chosen to lead, but the Council feared backlash from old loyalties. The Alpha’s daughter—his adopted daughter—had to remain close to the line. So Rodriguez married you.”

“A political bond,” I whispered.

“An obligation. He resented it from the beginning.”

I thought of the cold glances. The dismissive touch. The way he only softened when Elisa’s name was spoken.

Maya’s voice dropped. “He never forgave you for being forced into his life. You weren’t the mate he chose. You were the symbol he had to uphold.”

“And now that Elisa is back…”

“He’s trying to rewrite the past.”

A slow breath left my lungs. The air tasted metallic. I felt nothing for a moment. No heartbreak. Just understanding. A horrible, perfect understanding.

“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked.

“Because,” she said, “you deserve to leave with your sanity intact.”

Later that night, Rodriguez found me.

I was outside, under the pines, my body numb with ache and instinct.

“You’ve been busy,” he said behind me.

I didn’t turn. “So have you.”

His steps crunched closer. “Maya speaks too freely.”

“Not freely enough.”

He circled me. There was no pretense now. No gentleness. Just calculation. Cold eyes and clenched jaw.

“You want the truth?” he asked. “Fine. You were a burden. You still are.”

I stared at him.

“You think I wanted to waste years beside a girl who couldn’t even remember where she came from? The Council wanted to preserve your father’s legacy. So I played the role.”

“And Elisa?” I asked.

“Elisa is mine. She always was. She was supposed to be Luna. She was taken from me—and then they gave me you to patch the hole.”

Each word landed like a stone. But I didn’t flinch. Not this time.

He leaned in. “This was never about love. It was about keeping you quiet, obedient. Useful.”

“And now you want to give my children to your sick ex-mate like a parting gift?”

He didn’t deny it.

“You’ll lose the pack,” I said.

He laughed. “You think they care? Half of them already follow Elisa’s scent like she’s some wounded saint.”

“You’re afraid of me now,” I said, stepping closer.

His eyes narrowed.

“I’m not the girl they forced into your bed. I’m not your burden. I’m a mother. And I’ll die before I let you touch them.”.

The feeding came before dawn.

Always before dawn—when the world was quiet, and screams could be swallowed by the fog.

I was dragged from sleep by the sharp tug of my arm, IV already set. Maya didn’t speak this time. Her eyes were tired, her hands trembling.

“Don’t,” I whispered.

She didn’t meet my gaze.

The hallway outside Elisa’s chamber smelled of bitter roots and old blood. The guards stationed at the door didn’t bother to hide their contempt. I was no longer the Luna. I was a vessel, a donor, a thing.

Inside, the room was lit with low firelight. Elisa lay reclined on furs, her thin form shrouded in soft blankets. Her eyes gleamed as I entered, hollow and sharp like a predator who hadn’t had to chase her prey in weeks.

"Anna," she said, all sweet warmth, like syrup on poisoned meat. "You look tired."

I didn’t answer. I was too focused on staying upright. The twins stirred beneath my ribs, uneasy.

Rodriguez stood by the hearth, arms crossed. He didn’t look at me. Not even once.

Maya motioned me to kneel. I obeyed, only because I had no strength to fight.

Elisa’s fingers brushed my hair. “You’ve been such a blessing,” she murmured. “So… giving.”

I wanted to rip her throat out.

But I stayed still as Maya opened the vein beneath my skin and held the chalice beneath it.

The room tilted. Elisa’s breath quickened. Her lips parted in hunger. She drank slowly—almost lovingly—from the warm bowl, her throat working in silence.

I watched the blood disappear from my body and into hers.

And in that moment, I saw it.

The lie behind her eyes.

She didn’t just need me weak. She wanted me gone.

Later, as I lay on the cold cot in the infirmary, barely conscious, I heard them whispering.

Elisa and Maya. Or at least I thought it was Maya—until the second voice laughed, soft and low.

“She’s breaking,” Elisa said. “Soon, she’ll slip. Her mind is already fraying.”

“Not fast enough,” the voice responded. I didn’t recognize it—one of the lesser healers, maybe. One of Elisa’s silent shadows.

“She’s carrying his heirs. Do you think I’ll let her survive that?”

“What if they come out strong?”

“Then I’ll nurse them. Raise them. And when they’re old enough to understand, I’ll teach them how their real mother begged me to spare her.”

They both laughed.

The sound made my bones vibrate.

That night, I didn’t sleep.

I couldn’t.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Elisa with blood on her lips and my children in her arms.

The plan was clear now. Rodriguez would let me bleed until there was nothing left. And Elisa would step into the light, reborn as the mother of wolves.

My death wasn’t a side effect.

It was the point.

The smell of iron was permanent now. It clung to my skin, the sheets, even my breath. I barely recognized the sound of my own heartbeat—slow, soft, as if it too was tired of fighting.

The infirmary lights buzzed overhead, their glow sharp against the hollows of my cheeks. I hadn’t walked in two days. My limbs were weightless, not in grace, but in emptiness. The twins inside me shifted less. They seemed to sense it. The fading.

Maya stood at the foot of my bed, arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze lingered on the translucent veins beneath my skin, the bluish tint along my fingers. She looked older than usual. Not because of time, but guilt.

"She needs rest, Rodriguez," Maya said, her voice firm but low. "A week at least. Maybe two. Her blood pressure is collapsing. She's losing too much, too fast."

Rodriguez stood across the room, near the shuttered window. His expression didn’t shift. Cold, unreadable, as always.

"You told me she'd survive," he said.

"Not like this." Maya took a step forward. "She's an hour from organ failure. You keep draining her, and she won’t even make it to the birth."

"Elisa needs the nourishment."

Maya flinched, barely.

"Elisa is stable now. Gaining weight. Strength returning. But Anna—she's fading."

"Then do something about it. That’s your job, isn’t it? Keep her alive until she delivers."

"She’s not livestock, Rodriguez."

He finally turned. "No. She's a means to an end. She always has been."

My fingers twitched on the sheet. I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw the tray at the wall, claw my way out. But I couldn't move. Not really. The ache had settled into my marrow.

Maya was quiet for a long moment. Then, "She hears you, you know. Every word you say. Every time you refer to her like she's less than your mate."

Rodriguez stared at me. "She's not my mate. Never was."

His voice didn’t carry rage. It was worse than that. It carried indifference.

Maya pressed her hands to her temples. "You think you're in control, but you’re not. You’re making enemies in every shadow."

Rodriguez didn't answer.

"Anna has more loyalty in this pack than you realize. When she dies, it won't be quiet."

"She won't die," he said flatly. "Not until she's done."

Maya's jaw clenched. She walked toward the bed and checked my pulse, though we both knew it wasn’t for the records. She needed the touch. A silent apology, maybe.

My lips parted. It took more effort than it should have. "Don’t... beg him, Maya."

Her eyes found mine, startled.

"He won’t give mercy. He doesn’t have it."

Rodriguez made a sound behind us—a half scoff, half exhale.

"Then why keep fighting?" Maya whispered.

"Because my babies deserve better than to come into this world under her breath."

Rodriguez stepped closer. "She saved your life, Anna."

I laughed, dry and ragged. "No. She marked it for death. And you’re letting her finish the job."

For a second—just a second—his expression shifted. A flicker of something human.

Then it was gone.

"Rest her, then," he said to Maya. "Three days. No more. After that, if she can breathe, she can bleed."

Maya exhaled shakily.

He turned and left, boots echoing down the hall.

Night came like a shroud. I drifted in and out, dreams mixing with memories, and sometimes I couldn’t tell which was worse. I saw my father’s face, blurry now. The man who took me in. The man who gave me to this pack, thinking it would protect me.

I felt the touch of the twins again, subtle, fluttering. Alive.

"Hold on," I whispered. "Just hold on."

Outside, the wind howled through the trees.

But inside me, something else howled back.

The moon hung swollen in the night sky, casting silver light over the stone corridors of the den. The walls breathed with ancient secrets, damp with old blood and betrayal. I lay curled on the infirmary bed, unable to move, the weight of my own body a coffin.

Outside the door, their voices cut through the quiet.

“She should’ve never carried them,” Elisa hissed. “You know what they mean.”

Rodriguez’s voice followed, low and sharp. “I didn’t plan it. The heat came early. I needed to claim her to keep the elders quiet. That was all she was ever meant to be—a placeholder. The adopted stray of a dead Alpha.”

“You should’ve let her die the first time,” Elisa said, venom lacing her words. “You’re too sentimental.”

A short, bitter laugh from him. “Sentiment? I would’ve gutted her myself if it wouldn’t have made the Council suspicious. Hell, if you could stomach raw flesh, I’d carve her up now and feed you her heart.”

Something inside me splintered. Not from grief, but clarity. The illusion shattered. The man I once believed had chosen me was nothing but a mask for hunger.

Elisa’s footsteps drew closer. I shut my eyes, slowing my breath.

“She’s still strong,” she said quietly. “Even now, there’s too much fight in her blood. I can taste it in every drop Maya gives me.”

“You’re jealous,” Rodriguez replied. “You feel it too. The twins inside her—they carry something ancient. Power. That’s why you want them gone.”

“No,” Elisa growled. “I want them dead because they’re hers.”

The silence that followed cracked like ice over a river.

“I’ll deal with it,” Rodriguez said finally. “When the time comes, we’ll say she died during birth. The pack will grieve, then forget. Just like they forgot her parents.”

I couldn’t stop the low snarl that slipped from my throat. My body trembled from the effort, but I forced my eyes open, forced the truth into the air.

“You don’t get to write my death,” I rasped. “Not while I still draw breath.”

Rodriguez stepped into the room. The hatred in his gaze was no longer hidden. It bloomed freely now, like rot.

“You should’ve stayed a mystery,” he said. “You were easier to control when you didn’t know who you were.”

“Even broken wolves bite,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Elisa tilted her head. “And yet, you lie there like meat. Pathetic.”

“I’ll remember those words when your bones are ash beneath my feet.”

Rodriguez lunged forward, gripping the rails of the bed. “You think you’ll survive this? You think the pack would believe you over me? You’re an orphaned mongrel. They only tolerated you because of your bloodline.”

“But it’s my blood keeping your precious Elisa alive,” I spat.

He leaned closer, the stench of his breath heavy with disdain. “Not for long. Maya’s running out of reasons to protect you. When you deliver, I’ll make sure Elisa gets everything she needs. Everything. Even if it means tearing it from you.”

The door creaked, and Maya entered. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene. “Enough,” she snapped. “Out. Both of you.”

Rodriguez didn’t move.

“I said out!” Maya’s voice thundered like an elder’s roar.

Reluctantly, they stepped back. Elisa gave me one last glance—calculated, cold. “We’ll finish this soon, Anna.”

They left.

Maya closed the door and locked it. Her hands were shaking.

“He means it,” she whispered. “They both do.”

“I know.”

“We need to move you. Tonight. Before they come again.”

I stared at her, my body barely holding together.

“Then do it,” I said. “Get me out.

Maya had waited until the patrols thinned—two hours before dawn, when even wolves were slow to stir. I clung to her shoulder, my steps uncertain, every limb quivering with fatigue. The crude bandages beneath my cloak were soaked. Maya had drained me one last time, just enough to trick Rodriguez into thinking I was still too weak to walk. It nearly cost me consciousness.

“This way,” she whispered, guiding me through a narrow tunnel that veined beneath the den. The stone was slick, the air sharp with mildew. Old roots broke through the walls like clawed fingers, groping at us as we passed.

Maya’s scent was masked with ash and wolfsbane. Mine, she’d smeared with mud, pine sap, and a salve of crushed garlic and bloodroot—bitter herbs that burned my skin and made my eyes water, but dulled my scent trail. She’d learned the trick during the War of Broken Packs.

“They’ll kill you for this,” I murmured.

“They’ll do worse to you,” she replied.

We emerged into the fringe forest. Moonlight slipped through the boughs like ghostlight. I felt the shift before I heard it—the snap of twigs not far behind us.

Maya turned. “Run.”

But it was too late.

Rodriguez dropped from the trees like death in motion. Beside him, Elisa stepped out from shadow, teeth bared, her mouth already smeared with blood.

“You always did have a bleeding heart, Maya,” Rodriguez said. “It’s about time we carved it out.”

Maya stood in front of me, blocking his path. “She’s carrying your children.”

“And she’s defiled the bloodline doing it,” he snarled. “A mistake I intend to bury before it spreads.”

He moved too fast for me to scream. Maya tried to shift, but his claws tore through her chest mid-transformation. Her body hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

“No!” I crawled to her, pressing trembling hands to the wound, but she was already gone. Her eyes stared, glassy with the last of her courage.

Rodriguez wrenched me away by the hair.

“You think you’re special?” he hissed. “You’re meat, Anna. A mistake dressed in a womb.”

Elisa leaned in, licking the blood from my cheek. “Maya’s death will be your last comfort.”

They dragged me back like a carcass.

The pack prison was a pit carved into the mountain’s roots—wet stone, rusted bars, the stink of old madness. They threw me onto the floor. The stone bit my knees. Chains, already stained with old blood, snapped around my wrists.

Rodriguez crouched before me, eyes glowing like wildfire.

“You should’ve died during the last bleed. You’re not strong—you’re stubborn. There’s a difference.”

I spat blood at his feet. “You’re not Alpha. You’re a parasite wearing a crown.”

He backhanded me so hard the world spun. When it stopped, Elisa was kneeling beside me, one hand on my belly.

“These little parasites?” she whispered. “I’ll watch them choke on their first breath. Then I’ll eat their hearts. Slowly.”

Tears burned down my cheeks—not from fear, but fury. Maya had died for this. For me.

“You’ll choke on me first,” I whispered.

Elisa laughed. “You still think you’re the heroine in this story. You’re not. You’re just the warning.”

Rodriguez turned to go. “Let her rot.”

The door slammed shut. Darkness returned, thick and suffocating. But I lay there, hand cradling my belly, and whispered Maya’s name like a promise. There was no sun in the prison pit—only damp air, the slow drip of water, and the steady decay of time. Hunger gnawed at me, but not as viciously as the questions. Why was I still alive? Why feed me just enough to keep me breathing, but not strong? Why not end me, as Rodriguez had promised with his eyes?

The answer never came. Only footsteps.

Tonight, they returned.

Rodriguez stepped into the cell with the same silent authority he always wore, as if he were descending from a throne. Elisa followed, wrapped in white fur like a queen preparing for a coronation. Her eyes glittered with contempt, her lips curled just enough to show a hint of fang.

“Elisa wanted to see how you’re doing,” Rodriguez said flatly, crouching beside me. “I told her you weren’t worth the breath.”

“Still breathing,” I rasped.

“Barely,” Elisa replied. Her hand drifted over my stomach, featherlight, possessive. “You’re clinging to life like a tick. Is it pain you fear… or the truth?”

I met her gaze. “There’s nothing true about you.”

Her fingers twitched, claws itching beneath skin. “You know nothing about me.”

“Then tell me. Why not kill me? Why all this—this theatre?”

Rodriguez chuckled, low and sharp. “You think you matter that much? That this is some grand game with you at the center?”

“Isn’t it?” I pushed myself upright, even as the chains bit deep. “I see the way you both look at me. Not with hatred. With hesitation.”

A flicker—barely noticeable—passed between them.

Elisa turned away first. “She’s guessing. She knows nothing.”

“But she’s right about one thing,” Rodriguez murmured. He stepped closer, crouching until we were eye-level. His voice dropped to a whisper. “If it were up to me, I’d have fed you to Elisa in pieces. Heart first. But I’m not the one keeping you breathing.”

I blinked. “Then who?”

He smiled—but it didn’t touch his eyes. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Elisa hissed, snapping her teeth. “We’ve given you too much already. The next time I drain you, it won’t be for healing. It’ll be for pleasure.”

“Then why wait?” I whispered.

She turned to leave, her silence more chilling than threats. Rodriguez lingered.

“You should be grateful, Anna,” he said. “You were born to be nothing. Forgotten. An orphan raised by pity. And yet here you are—alive because someone above you decided you were still useful. Not worthy. Useful.”

He stood and walked to the door. “But when that usefulness ends…”

The metal creaked shut behind them. I was alone again.

My pulse thundered in my ears. Not from fear. From something colder.

They were lying. About everything.