Alpha's Loss, Luna's Freedom

The antiseptic smell of the pack hospital burned my nostrils as I paced the sterile corridor outside the emergency treatment room. My clothes were still stiff with Lily's dried blood. I couldn't bring myself to change—as if washing away her blood would somehow sever our connection when she needed me most.

Gideon, our pack healer, emerged from the treatment room, his usually calm face etched with concern. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across his features, making him look older than his fifty years.

"Luna Helena," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Lily's condition is deteriorating rapidly. The rogue claws carried a toxin that's accelerating the infection. Without Alpha blood to counteract it..."

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

"Marcus is still with Rebecca," I said, my voice hollow. "He's refusing my mind-links."

Sarah howled in anguish within me, her pain reverberating through my chest. *Our pup is dying while he comforts another woman's child!*

"There must be another way," I whispered, more to myself than to Gideon.

"Any Alpha bloodline would work," Gideon confirmed. "But it needs to be direct—first or second degree relation. A distant cousin wouldn't have the potency needed."

Hope flared briefly. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the mate bond that had felt like a noose for years but now might be Lily's only lifeline.

*Marcus,* I projected, pouring every ounce of desperation into the link. *Please. Lily is dying. She needs Alpha blood now.*

Silence. Then, like a door slamming shut, I felt him deliberately block the connection.

My knees nearly buckled. Sarah snarled, her fury mixing with my own.

"I'll contact other Alphas," I said, straightening my spine. "Marcus's cousin in the Northern Ridge Pack. Or his uncle in Silvercrest."

Gideon's expression darkened. "Luna, we have less than two hours."

"Then I'll be quick."

I rushed to the communication room, my fingers trembling as I established the first mind-link connection to Alpha Gregory of Silver Moon Pack, where we'd been heading before the attack.

*Alpha Gregory, this is Luna Helena of Crescent Moon Pack. I beg your assistance—*

The connection fizzled out before I could finish, blocked by an external force. I tried again, focusing harder, only to meet the same resistance.

Frantic, I tried Alpha Dominic of Northern Ridge, then Alpha Xavier of Silvercrest. Each time, the connection failed before I could even explain our emergency.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. Marcus had ordered the pack guards to block all outgoing communications. A standard security protocol after rogue attacks, but he knew—he *knew*—what it would mean for Lily.

"Luna," a young Delta warrior appeared in the doorway, his expression grim. "Alpha Marcus has reinforced the perimeter. No one enters or leaves until further notice. He says it's for security after the rogue attack."

My hands curled into fists, nails cutting half-moons into my palms. "Did he say anything about his daughter?"

The warrior couldn't meet my eyes. "Only that the pack healer should focus on treating Tommy Chen's injuries first. He said the boy shows Alpha potential and is a priority."

Something broke inside me then—not just my heart, but something fundamental about who I was. The dutiful Luna, the patient mate who endured betrayal for the sake of pack harmony, shattered like glass.

I returned to the hospital wing in time to see Gideon emerge from checking on Lily. The defeat in his eyes told me everything.

"The infection is spreading too quickly," he said softly. "Without Alpha blood to counteract the toxin..."

"How long?" My voice didn't sound like my own.

"An hour. Maybe less."

I pushed past him into Lily's room. My beautiful daughter lay still on the white hospital bed, her skin ashen except for the angry red lines spreading from her wounds. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths.

I took her small hand in mine, feeling the feverish heat of her skin.

"Mama's here, little moon," I whispered, brushing damp hair from her forehead.

Lily's eyelids fluttered, but didn't open. Through our mother-daughter bond, I felt her weakening presence, like a candle flame in a strengthening wind.

With trembling fingers, I reached for the last resort—a direct mind-link to Marcus that no Alpha command could override: the distress call of a Luna for her mate.

*Marcus,* I projected, the mental equivalent of a scream. *Your daughter is dying. She needs your blood. Please.*

For one heartbeat, I felt his consciousness touch mine. Then, deliberately, cruelly, he severed the connection completely.

Across the hall, I heard the murmur of voices and a child's laugh—Tommy, already recovering, while my daughter's life ebbed away under my helpless hands.

Sarah's howl of grief echoed through my mind as Lily's breathing grew more labored. And in that moment, as I watched my daughter fight for each breath, something inside me hardened into unbreakable resolve.

If Lily died, there would be a reckoning. And neither Marcus nor his precious Rebecca would escape it.