I had endured endless moon cycles of grueling labor in the pack's Tracker Den, all for the promise Alpha Aurora made—ten thousand marks of tribute as my seasonal reward.

But when the distribution night finally arrived, the Alpha sent a demand through the pack's mind-link instead.

Every member was ordered to contribute varying amounts to the territory's depleted stores. My required offering was the highest of all—a full ten thousand marks.

I reached out through the bond, asking if there had been some mistake. Surely the Alpha meant to grant me tribute, not demand I surrender what little I had.

Aurora's response came cold and sharp across the link: "The territory faces hardship. Lyra, as one of the founding members and a core pillar of this pack, you should lead by example. Even if it means emptying your personal stores completely, you must help us survive this difficult season."

A bitter laugh escaped my throat, more growl than humor.

So this was how she wanted to play it.

That very night, I transferred ten thousand marks to the pack's central tribute vault, declaring my unwavering loyalty and commitment to our shared territory.

Everyone thought I had lost my mind. Aurora herself was said to have howled with laughter until she could barely breathe.

But they didn't understand.

Soon, this pack would belong to me.

What was wrong with investing ten thousand marks in my own future territory?

1.

I made the transfer in the dead of night, when the moon hung low and most wolves slept.

My personal stores weren't quite enough, so I quietly used my intended mate's rune-device to transfer an additional five hundred marks to the pack vault.

The next morning, I cast images of both tribute receipts into the pack's shared mind-link, directing them specifically at Alpha Aurora.

"I've given ten thousand marks to support the pack. What more could you possibly demand of me?"

Aurora never responded through the link. But during the midday feeding, I caught the whispered conversations of my packmates, their voices carrying easily to my heightened ears.

They were all discussing me, mocking me as the greatest fool born in a hundred generations.

"Has Lyra gone mad from not receiving her seasonal reward? The Alpha demanded ten thousand marks, and she actually handed them over?"

"Did you notice? She needed two separate transfers to reach that amount—nine thousand five hundred, then five hundred more. She didn't even have enough in her own stores."

"I think Lyra might have truly lost her senses. She spent more time in the dens than anyone this past year, and now at season's end, she gets nothing? Not a single mark of reward, and she has to give tribute on top of it? I would lose my mind too."

Their words stung like silver against bare skin, but every syllable fell within my expectations.

Soon enough, the pack liaison Lily came to summon me. The Alpha wished to see me.

I entered Aurora's private chambers within the central den. She was draped in fine furs, her golden eyes bright with satisfaction, her Alpha scent thick and commanding in the enclosed space.

When she saw me, she threw back her head and laughed, the sound echoing off stone walls. Then she crossed the room and clapped a hand on my shoulder, her grip firm enough to remind me of the power difference between us.

"Lyra, honestly, what are you doing? You're not a pup anymore—why are you playing these stubborn games with me? That tribute demand was just a misunderstanding, nothing more. You're the heart of our pack's tracking operations, and more than that, you're my sister-in-bond. How could I ever let you feel so wronged?"

The Alpha spoke to me with the same familiar warmth she always used, treating me as an equal, a packmate, a friend.

But I had made my decision. I would never again swallow the empty promises she dangled before me.

Ten years ago, Aurora and I had shared a den during our training years.

She was born of Alpha blood, heir to the wealthy Frostveil lineage. I was a poor omega with nothing but sharp instincts and a gift for tracking.

After our training ended, Aurora wanted to establish her own territory. She would provide the resources and connections; I would provide the skills and strategies.

Ten years of building together, and now our pack numbered in the hundreds—a territory of real significance. But the mark-rights Aurora had promised me, the tribute shares she had sworn would be mine—none of it had ever materialized.

This time, she had used the promise of ten thousand marks as seasonal reward to string me along for another full year.

But I would not be deceived again.

I spoke plainly, without ceremony: "So you're saying you'll honor your promise and grant me my reward? Though I should mention—ten thousand marks hardly seems sufficient anymore. I've heard even the lowest-performing scouts received eight thousand. I'm the backbone of the Tracker Den. I won't accept less than fifty thousand."

If she acknowledged her wrongs now and made amends, perhaps there was still a path forward.

I could allow her to remain Alpha, to keep her position at the head of the pack. All she had to do was give me the tribute shares I was owed.

But Aurora's next words extinguished that hope entirely.

"Of course I'll reward you. Naturally. But it will need to take a... different form."

A dark premonition coiled in my chest.

Aurora reached across her stone desk and lifted two gnarled roots, their earthy scent sharp even from a distance. She held them out to me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Ginseng. Wild healing roots.

As if this could possibly compensate for everything she owed me.

"Here, take these."

I stared at her, confusion clouding my thoughts.

Aurora Frostveil leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, "What you're holding right now are two prime moonroot stalks—the kind that fetch ten thousand marks per half-weight at the healer markets! These two together make a full weight. Take them to the herb traders in the merchant quarter, and if the market favors you, you might even get more than ten thousand marks!"

Aurora wore an expression that suggested I'd just received some tremendous windfall.

When I remained frozen in place, she added, "I don't share treasures like these with just anyone. Only my dearest pack-sister—Lyra Nightshade. Let's put the past behind us, shall we? Consider these moonroots my way of making amends!"

I laughed.

How could we possibly leave the past behind?

Not only would I bring it up—I intended to drag every last detail into the light for all to see.

I pressed down every emotion churning inside me and forced my lips into something resembling a smile.

"Thank you, Alpha."

"What's with the formality! We're pack-sisters, you and I."

Pack-sisters? We were clearly Alpha and subordinate. Nothing more.

Though by next moon-cycle, our positions would be reversed.

I carried the two small moonroot stalks back to my workstation in the Tracker Den.

Rowan Ashclaw, one of my junior scouts, spotted them immediately. His eyes went wide as he approached. "Den-Leader, aren't those the same moonroots you gifted away last moon-cycle?"

He was right. Last month, Aurora's mother Isolde Frostveil had fallen ill—her life-force weakened—and she'd been taken to the healers' sanctuary.

I had personally driven my runner-cart deep into the wild territories, tracking down a mountain herbalist to procure these very stalks.

After considerable haggling, I'd secured both for five hundred marks each.

And now Aurora had returned these same moonroots to me as my seasonal tribute-share, claiming each was worth five thousand marks.

I wanted to laugh. Yet somehow, the laughter wouldn't come.

All these years I'd served the pack with unwavering dedication, never complaining, never asking for recognition. Partly because I needed the ration allotments. But also because I'd believed Aurora and I were true pack-sisters, bound by something deeper than hierarchy.

These two moonroots had just struck me across the face hard enough to leave a mark.

On a working day, during the morning hours, I gathered my belongings and headed straight home.

The Beta Enforcer Marcus Frostveil spotted me leaving. He couldn't stop me, but he made sure to mention he'd be reporting my departure to the Alpha.

Before long, Aurora announced in the pack's message-rune channel: not only would my rations be docked for abandoning my post, but my merit standing would also suffer—for displaying an "uncommitted attitude toward pack duties."

When news of this spread, several of my den-mates immediately spoke up in my defense through the shared channel.

"First she's cheated out of ten thousand marks, and now her merit gets slashed? They really don't see our Den-Leader as anything more than prey!"

"Exactly! This entire year, our Den-Leader has always arrived at first light and left well after moonrise. Even when her own family fell ill, she never requested leave—she'd wait until her duties ended before rushing to the healers' sanctuary."

"Alpha Aurora, aren't you worried this treatment will freeze the hearts of those who've served the pack longest?"

I was just about to urge them to unsend their messages when Aurora activated the voice-rune for the entire channel.

Her fury crackled through the connection. "Den-Leader? It seems none of you understand who truly leads this pack!"

"Lyra Nightshade, you're nothing but a minor captain of the Tracker Den. Is this how you teach your subordinates to behave? Do you have any respect left for me as your Alpha?"

"This territory bears the Frostveil name. It was built entirely with Frostveil resources! I see now that you've all forgotten your place in the hierarchy. Effective immediately, the Tracker Den is disbanded. Lyra, you wanted to abandon your post? Fine—then never return!"

I didn't even have a chance to speak.

Aurora expelled me and everyone under my command from the pack's communication channel.

A private message from Marcus Frostveil arrived moments later.

"Lyra Nightshade, even though you completed twenty working days this moon-cycle, your abandonment of post today means your entire monthly ration is forfeit. Don't bother coming to the Central Den for formal release procedures—you've been banished."

Reading those words, I allowed myself a quiet smile.

They say the Discipline Keeper is nothing but the Alpha's loyal hound.

Once next moon-cycle arrives and I become Alpha, I'll be curious to see whose command that hound answers to then.

After the Tracker Den was dissolved, Aurora refused to offer any compensation. Instead, she withheld the ration allotments owed to every single one of us.

A wave of guilt washed over me. I was about to send a message to the Tracker Den's private pack-link when I noticed my pack members flooding the channel with words of comfort.

"Den Mother, let them disband us! We'll follow you anywhere!"

"Our leader's tracking skills are unmatched in three territories—why should we slave away for that Aurora Frostveil?"

"Why even seek another pack? I say our Den Mother should establish her own territory!"

Warmth spread through my chest, and I addressed them all: "This territory doesn't belong solely to Aurora. Half of it is mine by right. She claims to banish all of you, but I refuse to accept it. Consider yourselves on paid leave from pack duties—next moon's rations will still be distributed!"

The pack-link erupted with excitement at my words.

Everyone wanted to know how I planned to turn the tides, when the power within our pack would finally shift.

But at such a critical moment, I couldn't reveal anything.

"Soon. When Aurora grows restless enough to summon us back, that's when everything will fall into place."

While the pack-link buzzed with celebration, a new recruit suddenly sent me a private message.

"Alpha Aurora, Lyra Nightshade is claiming in the group that half the territory belongs to her, and she's promising paid leave to the entire Tracker Den! She must have lost her mind from desperation—spouting such nonsense!"

She recalled the message almost immediately, but I had already seen it.

I'd long suspected Aurora had planted a spy within my team. Now I'd flushed them out.

I removed the new recruit from the pack-link without hesitation. She became the only member of the Tracker Den who wasn't officially banished.

Rowan Ashclaw had been with me the longest and knew my situation better than anyone.

Her voice came through the communication rune, heavy with worry.

"Den Mother, is it really wise to openly challenge the Alpha like this? I remember your family is struggling with resources too, and your mother's condition..." She sighed. "That night, you acted on impulse. You shouldn't have transferred those tribute marks to the pack treasury out of spite. You've essentially lost double what you gave!"

I understood better than anyone how crucial those marks were.

But if I wanted Aurora gone, I had to spend them.

Just as I was speaking, a call came through from my intended mate.

"Lyra Nightshade, have you lost your senses? Did you use my tribute seal to transfer five thousand marks to your pack?"

"Yes. My transfer limit was reached that day, so I used yours for five thousand. But I repaid you afterward using another seal."

Kael Stormhowl fell silent for a moment, then spoke coldly: "I find this disrespectful. And I've heard you've been banished from the pack. I think... perhaps we should sever our courtship."

Before I could respond, he ended the connection.

When I tried to reach him again, his communication rune had blocked my scent-signature entirely.

Back in my den, I lit a calming herb stick and inhaled slowly.

Banished and abandoned on the same day—I was probably the most wretched wolf in the territory.

Just then, my parents arrived unexpectedly.

They stepped through the threshold with worry etched across their faces. "Lyra, did you have a falling out with Aurora? Listen to us—gather some tribute gifts and go apologize to her immediately!"

I frowned. "How did you find out?"

My parents exchanged uneasy glances before my father finally spoke.

"Aurora contacted us through the pack-link. She said you... that you've become arrogant beyond reason, that you caused chaos at the Central Den over some seasonal rewards, and she had no choice but to banish you."

Fury blazed through me, threatening to break free.

But my father pressed the apology gifts into my hands.

"Aurora said you two have been pack-sisters for years. If you return and submit to her properly, she'll take you back. You won't be a Den Captain anymore—you'll have to start from the lowest rank again."

He had already prepared the offerings.

My parents lived frugally, wearing the same furs for a decade, yet what they placed in my hands was a precious box of rare healing salves from the mountain territories.

My mother quickly added, "Starting from the bottom isn't so bad. Didn't you work your way up from there before?"