If I signed this, I was nothing. If I didn't, he would hunt me.

I stared at the gold pen, the metal cold against my skin. Five years of my life, reduced to a single line of ink. I thought about the way Logan had looked at me—like I was a disease he was finally curing.

I dropped the pen. It clattered against the mahogany desk.

"I won't do it," I whispered to the empty room. "I won't make it easy for you."

Before the pen even stopped rolling, the study doors burst open.

Logan stormed in, his chest heaving, his eyes entirely black. His wolf was right at the surface, radiating a murderous intent that suffocated the air in the room. Behind him were three of the highest-ranking Council Elders.

And then came Rosser, practically dragging Chloe into the room.

Chloe’s perfect dress was torn at the collar. But it was her face that made my blood run cold. She was pale, gasping for air, and her lips had a faint, terrifying blue tinge.

"Get the pack doctor!" Logan roared over his shoulder, rushing to catch Chloe as her knees buckled. He scooped her into his arms, his face twisted in a panic I had never, not once, seen him wear for me.

"Logan, what happened?" I asked, taking a step forward.

"Don't you dare move," Elder Vance snarled. He stepped in front of me, his hand resting on the hilt of his silver blade.

"What is going on?" I demanded, looking from Vance to Logan.

Rosser marched up to the desk and slammed a silver tea tray down. On it was a porcelain cup and a small, empty glass vial. "You know exactly what is going on, Giuliana. I found this in your apron pocket in the kitchen."

Vance picked up the vial, sniffing it cautiously. His face hardened. "Liquid wolfsbane. Highly concentrated."

The room spun. "What? No! I was making breakfast. I didn't have any vials!"

Chloe let out a weak, pathetic whimper, burying her face against Logan's neck. "Logan, it burns... my throat burns so badly."

"I've got you," Logan whispered to her, kissing her forehead. Then, he turned his gaze to me. There was no hatred left. There was only the cold, mechanical look of a man looking at a corpse. "You poisoned her tea."

"I didn't make her tea!" I screamed, the injustice of it tearing at my throat. "She came into the kitchen to mock me! I didn't give her anything! Logan, you have to know I wouldn't do this. I’m a healer. I don't use wolfsbane!"

"Liar," Rosser spat. "I saw you hand her the cup right before Logan walked into the kitchen. You smiled when she drank it."

I stared at Rosser, completely paralyzed by the sheer audacity of the lie. "You... you framed me. You both framed me so he would have a reason to get rid of me!"

"Enough!" Logan’s voice shook the glass in the windows. He set Chloe down gently on the leather sofa, letting Rosser tend to her. He closed the distance between us in two strides.

He didn't hit me. He didn't have to. He just leaned down, his face inches from mine, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly quiet whisper.

"I told you to sign the papers, Giuliana. I told you to take the easy way out. But you couldn't stand the fact that I chose her, could you? You had to try and take her from me."

"Logan, please, smell the vial! Scent it! My scent isn't on it!"

"My sister found it in your pocket," he said flatly. "The Council has their proof. Attempted murder of an Alpha's mate is high treason."

Elder Vance stepped forward. "The punishment is death, Alpha. We can perform the execution at sundown to satisfy the pack law."

Death. They were going to kill me. I looked at Chloe on the couch. The blue tinge on her lips was makeup. It was smudge-proof makeup. She caught my eye over Logan's shoulder, and for a split second, her terrified expression vanished, replaced by a cold, victorious smirk.

"Sign the papers," Logan said, tapping the divorce decree on the desk.

"If they're going to execute me anyway, why does it matter?" I choked out, tears finally spilling over my cheeks.

"Because I won't have my pack's history stained by executing my Luna," Logan said, his tone dripping with disgust. "Sign the papers. Relinquish your title. In exchange, I will show you mercy. I will commute your sentence to permanent exile. You walk out of here a rogue, and you never come back."

"Exile? Logan, a wolf without a pack in the dead of winter... that’s just a slower death."

"Then you better start running," he replied. "You have one minute. Sign, or Vance takes your head right now."

I looked at the men who had been my family for five years. They looked back at me with nothing but contempt. I had scrubbed their floors, balanced their ledgers, and bled for their borders. And it took one lie from a returning ex-girlfriend to turn them all into my executioners.

My hand shook so badly I could barely hold the pen. I pressed the gold tip to the paper. The ink bled into the thick parchment.

Giuliana. I didn't add the last name. I didn't deserve it, and neither did they.

The moment the pen lifted, Elder Vance stepped forward with a heavy iron stamp. "The bond is dissolved by blood and law."

He pressed the seal against the paperwork.

The snap of the mate bond wasn't a sound. It was a physical tearing inside my chest. It felt like someone had reached through my ribs and ripped out half of my lungs. I gasped, falling to my knees on the hardwood floor, clutching my chest. The pack link in my mind—the comforting hum of hundreds of wolves that I had felt for five years—went dead silent.

I was completely, utterly alone.

"Get her out of my sight," Logan said, turning his back on me. "Throw her past the tree line. If she tries to cross back over, kill her."

The Enforcers didn't let me pack a bag. They didn't let me put on shoes. They grabbed me by the arms and dragged me through the pack house. I saw the omegas I had protected turning their faces away. I saw the warriors I had healed pretending not to notice.

They dragged me down the dirt road, the rain starting to fall in thick, freezing sheets. When we hit the northern border marker, they didn't just let me go. They threw me.

I hit the mud hard, scraping my knees and palms on the jagged rocks of the No-Man's Land.

"Enjoy the woods, rogue," one of the guards spat, turning his back and walking away.

I lay in the mud for a long time. The rain soaked through my ruined dress, freezing me to the bone. My wolf was whining, a pathetic, broken sound echoing in the empty cavern of my mind. I was so tired. I just wanted to close my eyes and let the cold take me.

But then, the wind shifted.

The smell hit me instantly. It wasn't the clean pine and rain scent of the Blackwood pack. It was a harsh, musky scent. Wet earth, dried blood, and raw wilderness.

Rogues.

I tried to push myself up, my bare feet slipping in the mud. I couldn't run. I couldn't even stand.

A low growl vibrated from the thick brush to my left. Then, another from my right.

Shadows detached themselves from the trees. Five wolves stepped into the clearing, their eyes glowing a predatory yellow in the dark. They were massive, their coats matted and scarred from years of brutal survival outside the pack systems.

I backed up against the trunk of a large oak tree, my breathing shallow.

The wolves shifted. Bones cracked and reformed until five humans stood in the rain, pulling tattered cloaks over their naked bodies.

One of them stepped forward. He was huge. Taller than Logan, broader than any Enforcer I had ever seen. He had dark, messy hair and a rugged face covered in scars. But it was his eyes that held me in place. They weren't yellow. They were a piercing, terrifying amber. When he looked at me, I felt a strange heat prickle at the base of my neck.

Even in his human form, I could tell what his wolf looked like. I could smell the dominance rolling off him. He was the one with the distinct patch of brown fur between his brow.

"Look at this," a younger rogue sneered, stepping closer to me. "A little stray wandered out of the rich lands."

What's your name?

I'm Guiliana, I could barely respond.

"We don't know where she's from, we can't just take her," a woman with a scarred cheek said, her voice tight with caution.

"She smells like the Blackwoods," the younger one argued, sniffing the air. "She smells like money."

"What if she's from a rival pack?" the woman countered, looking at the huge man with amber eyes. "What if it's a trap, Ryan? We can't risk it."

Ryan didn't answer them. He kept his eyes locked on mine. He walked toward me, his heavy boots making no sound in the mud. He crouched down in front of me. He was so close I could feel the heat radiating from his chest.

He looked at my bleeding feet. He looked at the mud covering my expensive silk dress. Then, he looked at my eyes.

"She's not a trap," Ryan said, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold. "She's an exile. Look at her eyes. Her Alpha broke her."

He reached out. I flinched, expecting a strike. Instead, his large, rough hand gently brushed a wet strand of hair from my face. The touch was so unexpected, so shockingly gentle, that a choked sob escaped my lips.

Ryan stood up, his massive frame blocking out the rain.

"Garret, take her," Ryan ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Ryan, the food shortage" the man started.

"I said take her," he growled, a warning rumble vibrating in his chest. "Wrap her up. She's coming with us."

Garret sighed, pulling a thick, dry woolen blanket from her pack and moving toward me.

Melissa sighed, pulling a thick, dry woolen blanket from her pack and moving toward me. She draped it over my shivering shoulders, the rough fabric a stark contrast to the ruined silk of my anniversary dress.

Then, the second horn blew. The Long Hunt.

"They’re crossing the tree line," the younger rogue hissed, pulling a jagged blade from his belt. "We need to run, Ryan. There's at least a dozen Enforcers."

Ryan didn't pull a weapon. He didn't even flinch. He kept his molten amber eyes locked on me. "Let them cross. I could use the exercise."

"Ryan, stop playing," Melissa snapped, pulling me up by the elbow. "If we fight them here, we risk the girl. She’s half-dead already. Her wolf is completely dormant."

Ryan’s jaw clenched. He looked at my bare, bleeding feet, then toward the dark woods where the sound of snapping branches was growing louder. With a low, frustrated growl, he stepped forward and scooped me into his arms like I weighed nothing.

"We go home," Ryan commanded.

"Home?" I rasped, my voice barely working. "I thought you were rogues."

Ryan let out a dark, chest-rumbling chuckle. "Only to the idiots who don't know any better. Keep your eyes closed, little wolf. We have a long run ahead."

I passed out against his chest. His scent cedar, rain, and raw power was the only thing anchoring me to the waking world.

****

When I finally opened my eyes, I wasn't in a muddy camp or a cave.

I was lying on a massive, four-poster bed draped in charcoal-grey silk. The room was the size of my entire ground floor at the Blackwood house, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a sprawling, snow-capped mountain range.

This wasn't a rogue settlement. It's a penthouse.

The bathroom door opened, and two women walked in carrying a stack of towels and a dark emerald dress. They wore neat, uniform-like clothes. Not rogues. Maids.

"She’s awake," the taller one said, her lip curling slightly as she looked at my mud-caked legs. "I’m Ria. This is Diana. The Alpha ordered us to clean you up."

"The Alpha?" I pushed myself up, wincing as my bruised ribs protested. "You mean Ryan?"

Diana let out a harsh laugh, tossing the towels onto the foot of the bed. "She doesn't even know whose bed she’s bleeding on.

Yes, Ryan. Alpha King of the Silver Moon Pack.

The most feared territory in the north. And for some reason, he dragged a stray out of the mud instead of letting the Blackwoods finish the job."

My breath hitched. The Silver Moon Pack. Logan used to lock the pack doors when rumors of their hunters being near circulated. They were ruthless.

"Why are you looking at her like that?" Ria whispered to Diana, though I could hear every word. "She’s nothing special. Just another broken reject."

"You saw the way he looked at her when he carried her in," Diana whispered back, her eyes narrowing with blatant jealousy. "The King hasn't brought a woman into the inner keep in his entire reign. And he brings back this... trash? I give it two days before he throws her back out."

"Are you going to wash me, or just stand there insulting me?" I asked, my voice dry but steady.

I had spent five years dealing with Logan's sister; a couple of jealous maids weren't going to break me.

Ria scowled, but she gestured to the massive marble tub in the adjoining room. "Get in. The Alpha wants to see you when you're decent."

An hour later, the mud and blood were gone. I slipped into the emerald dress they had left for me. It was long-sleeved, hugging my curves perfectly, hiding the bruises on my arms but showing enough skin at the collarbone to make me feel exposed.

The heavy bedroom door clicked open.

Ryan walked in. He wasn't shirtless anymore. He wore a crisp, dark button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms corded with muscle and faded scars. He carried a silver tray loaded with roasted meat, fresh bread, and fruit.

The maids immediately dropped their heads, submitting to his overwhelming aura.

"Get out," Ryan said, not looking at them.

Ria and Diana scurried out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

Ryan set the tray on a small table near the fireplace. He pulled out a chair and looked at me. "Sit. Eat."

I hesitated, my stomach clenching. "Why are you doing this? I’m a liability. Logan will come looking for me eventually to make sure I’m dead."

"Let him look," Ryan said, his eyes tracing the line of my neck where Logan's mark used to be. The skin was bare now, the bond severed. "Sit down, Giuliana."

I sat. My hands were shaking as I picked up a piece of bread. I took a bite, and my stomach aggressively reminded me I hadn't eaten since the afternoon before. I started eating faster, unable to stop myself.

Ryan didn't touch the food. He just sat across from me, his elbows resting on his knees, watching me. His gaze was heavy. It wasn't the dismissive, cold look Logan always gave me. Ryan looked at me like he was trying to memorize the exact shade of my eyes.

"You're staring," I mumbled around a piece of roast.

"I know," he said simply.

Before I could ask what that meant, the door swung open without a knock. A tall man with lighter hair and the same amber eyes as Ryan leaned against the doorframe. He had a cocky grin plastered on his face.

"Well, well, well," the man drawled. "The rumors are true. My stoic, terrifying brother skipped the pre-Assembly war council to watch a stray wolf eat dinner. The Elders are having a collective stroke in the war room, Ryan."

Ryan didn't look away from me. "Tell the Elders they can wait, Finn. And if you call her a stray again, I’ll throw you off the balcony."

Finn chuckled, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "Touchy. I’m just saying, brother. You’ve never brought a woman here. The whole estate is talking." He winked at me. "I’m Finn. Try not to break his heart, sweetheart. He's grumpier than he looks."

"Out, Finn," Ryan growled.

Finn laughed and disappeared down the hall.

Ryan finally stood up. He walked over to me, stopping just inches away. I had to tilt my head back to look at him.

"Tonight is the Equinox Assembly," Ryan said, his voice a low rumble. "Alphas from all the neighboring territories are downstairs. It’s going to be loud. Lock the door. Rest. No one will bother you here."

"You're just... leaving me in your room?"

"You're safe here," he said, his thumb suddenly brushing my cheek. The contact sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to my toes. "Sleep, Giuliana."

He turned and left, the heavy door clicking shut, locking automatically from the inside.

For the first two hours, I tried to sleep. But the bed felt too big, the silence too loud. My mind kept replaying Logan's face, Chloe's fake tears, the moment the Council stamped my exile.

I couldn't just lay there. I felt like a caged animal.

I slipped out of the bed, my bare feet padding against the thick rugs. I unlocked the door and peeked into the hallway. It was empty. Down below, I could hear the faint sound of a string quartet and the deep hum of hundreds of voices.

I just wanted to see. I just wanted to know what a pack that wasn't Blackwood looked like.

I crept down the long, winding stone corridors, following the noise. I finally reached a massive marble balcony that overlooked the grand ballroom.

I peered over the railing.

The room was stunning, filled with wolves in expensive suits and gowns. At the center of it all stood Ryan. He was holding a glass of amber liquid, speaking to a group of older Alphas. He commanded the room effortlessly.

I leaned forward a bit more, captivated by the way he held himself.

Then, it happened.

My inner wolf, the one that had been curled up and "dead" since Logan severed our bond, suddenly opened her eyes. She didn't just wake up. She scrambled to her feet, her claws digging into my mind, a frantic, desperate howl tearing from her throat.

MINE.

Down in the ballroom, Ryan went completely rigid. He stopped mid-sentence. The glass in his hand shattered, the amber liquid spilling over his fingers.

He slowly, methodically tilted his head back and looked up at the balcony.

His amber eyes locked onto mine.

The air vanished from my lungs. A scent hit me so hard it made my knees buckle—cedar, rain, and a dark, intoxicating heat. It wasn't just a smell. It was a tether. A thick, golden thread wrapping around my heart and pulling me violently toward him.

A mate bond. A true mate bond.

"Mate," Ryan breathed.

Even over the noise of the ballroom, his voice carried. The entire room went dead silent. Hundreds of faces turned to look at Ryan, and then followed his gaze up to the balcony. To me. The exiled, nameless rogue.

Ryan didn't hesitate. He pushed past the visiting Alphas, walking toward the grand staircase. His eyes were blazing gold. His wolf was completely at the surface.

I was frozen. I couldn't run. The pull of the bond was too strong, anchoring my feet to the marble floor.

He took the stairs two at a time. When he reached the landing, he didn't care who was watching. He grabbed my waist, pulling me flush against his hard chest, and buried his face in my neck, inhaling my scent like he was a drowning man and I was oxygen.

"Mine," he growled, the sound vibrating through my entire body. "Moon Goddess, you’re mine."

"Ryan," I gasped, my hands instinctively clutching his shirt.

"Look at that," a cold, familiar voice echoed from the bottom of the staircase, shattering the perfect moment. "The King of the North picks through my garbage."

My blood turned to ice.

I turned my head, looking down at the ballroom floor. Standing there, holding an invitation to the Equinox Assembly, was Logan. And clinging to his arm was Chloe.

Logan's eyes were fixed on Ryan’s hands on my waist. His expression wasn't smug anymore. It was twisted into something dark, possessive, and utterly lethal.

"She’s my wife, Ryan," Logan snarled, stepping toward the stairs. "Take your hands off her."

The silence in the ballroom stretched so thin that I could hear the crystal chandeliers trembling above the heads of three hundred wolves. Every Alpha in the northern territories had turned toward the staircase, and every one of them seemed to be waiting to learn whether the exile on the landing would be claimed or returned like a misplaced piece of property.

Ryan did not release me. His arm stayed locked around my waist, and the steady hammering of his heart against my shoulder blade was the only thing keeping my knees from folding beneath me.

"You have made a mistake, Blackwood," Ryan said, and his voice carried across the marble without any effort at all. "The woman you call your wife was cast out by your own decree, in front of your own Council, and I doubt you have forgotten the sound of that seal."

Logan climbed the first three steps with his jaw set and his grey eyes burning. "She was exiled for attempted murder, which means her sentence belongs to me and to the pack she betrayed. You are holding stolen property, and every Alpha in this room knows what the law says about that."

"Property," Ryan repeated softly, and the word sounded far more dangerous in his mouth than any growl. "Say that again, and say it slowly, so everyone here can remember how you speak about the woman who ran your household for five years."

A murmur rolled through the crowd. I saw old Alpha Thorne of the Frostfang Pack lower his glass, and I saw two younger Alphas exchange a glance that was equal parts disgust and fascination. Logan had never been good at reading a room, because he had spent his whole life being the one who made rooms go quiet.

"This is a private matter between mates," Logan said, forcing his voice into a calmer register. "Giuliana, come down here at once, and we will discuss your crimes like civilized wolves."

I opened my mouth, but Ryan answered before I could find any words. "The Equinox Assembly is held under the Compact of the Three Moons, and the first article of that compact guarantees sanctuary to any wolf who stands within these walls and asks for it. She has not asked yet, but she has the right to, and no Alpha in this hall may drag her out until she has spoken."

Alpha Thorne cleared his throat and stepped forward, leaning on a staff carved with frost-wolves. "The King of the North is correct, Logan Blackwood, and you know it as well as I do. The Compact is older than both your packs, and I will not see it broken under my watch because of a domestic quarrel."

"It is not a quarrel," Chloe said.

She had been standing so quietly at Logan's elbow that I had almost forgotten she was there. Now she stepped forward with her hand pressed to her throat, her blonde hair arranged perfectly over one shoulder, and her eyes shimmering with a sorrow so convincing that it took real effort not to admire it.

"Forgive me for speaking," she said, her voice trembling just enough to make strangers lean closer. "I only wish to say that I forgave Giuliana the moment I woke from the poison, and I would forgive her again tonight if she simply came home and apologized. She is unwell, and anyone can see that she is frightened and confused."

Several of the lady wolves in the crowd murmured sympathetically. I felt the old, familiar heat of humiliation crawl up my neck, because I had watched Chloe perform this exact trick a hundred times and had never once found the courage to expose it.

But something had changed inside me. My wolf was awake and pacing behind my ribs, and for the first time in five years she was not whimpering. She was listening, and every muscle in my body felt as though it had been waiting years to be told that it was allowed to stand upright.

"Giuliana," Ryan said quietly, bending his head so that only I could hear him. "The law says you must speak for yourself, and I will not put words in your mouth. Whatever you decide, I will stand behind it, even if it breaks something in me."

That last sentence undid me more than any threat could have. I realized that he was offering me the one thing nobody had ever offered me, which was a choice that would not be punished afterward.

I stepped out of the circle of his arm. The marble was cold under my bare feet, and the emerald dress felt like armor and like a costume all at once as I walked to the edge of the landing and looked down at the man who had been my husband.

"Alpha Thorne," I said, and my voice cracked on the first word before it steadied. "I am Giuliana, formerly Luna of the Blackwood Pack, and I ask for sanctuary under the Compact of the Three Moons."

"Giuliana, do not do this," Logan warned, his aura beginning to press down on the room.

"I am not finished." I lifted my chin and forced myself to meet his eyes. "I also declare before every Alpha present that the wolf standing behind me is my true mate, chosen by the Moon Goddess herself, and that the bond between us was sealed tonight in front of all of you."

The gasp that went through the ballroom was louder than any horn. Logan's face went white, then red, and I watched the muscle in his cheek twitch as though something inside him was being torn loose from its moorings.

"You lie," he whispered. "A true mate bond cannot form while another bond still lingers."

"Your seal ended ours," I replied, "and you cannot pretend now that it did not."

The sound that ripped out of Logan's chest was not entirely human. His Alpha aura detonated across the hall in a wave of raw fury, and the chandeliers above us began to swing violently on their chains. Glasses burst on the tables below, a string of crystal pendants snapped and rained across the floor, and the younger wolves in the crowd dropped to their knees under the force of it.

Ryan was beside me before the first shard landed. He did not shout or posture, but simply raised his own aura like a wall, and I felt the two powers collide above my head with a pressure that made my ears ring.

"Enough," Alpha Thorne roared, slamming his staff against the floor, and a pulse of old, ancient authority rolled out from it. "The Compact has been invoked, and the Assembly recognizes the sanctuary claim. Logan Blackwood, you will stand down at once, or you will be removed from these grounds by every Alpha present."

For a long moment I thought Logan would fight them all. His hands curled into claws, his eyes flickered from grey to black, and I saw the frightened pup that lived beneath the Alpha, the boy who had never learned to lose.

Then Chloe touched his arm and whispered something I could not hear, and the fire in him dimmed to a smoldering rage.

"This is not over," Logan said to me, and each word was cold and precise. "You will regret choosing him, and you will beg me to take you back before the winter ends."

He turned and descended the stairs, his guards falling in around him, and the crowd parted like water to let him pass. My legs began to shake only after he was gone, and Ryan's hand found the small of my back and held me steady without a word.

I should have felt triumphant. Instead I kept watching Chloe, who lingered a moment longer at the foot of the staircase after Logan had walked away. She was no longer playing the wounded innocent, and her face had settled into something calm and thoughtful that made my skin crawl.

She lifted her gaze to the shadowed gallery above the ballroom, where a tall figure in a hooded cloak leaned against a pillar. I could not see his face, but I saw him raise his glass to her in a slow, private toast, and I saw the silver ring on his hand catch the candlelight.

It was engraved with a brand I had never seen before, a circle split by a jagged line.

Chloe smiled up at him, and then she mouthed four silent words that I somehow understood perfectly.

The Luna is mine now.

##