Luna Rejects Her Traitor Mate

The ancient text felt like a weapon in my trembling hands as I stood outside Ellis's study. Through the heavy oak door, I could hear him shuffling papers, his movements relaxed and unhurried. He had no idea what was coming.

I pushed open the door without knocking. He looked up, surprise flickering across his features before settling into mild annoyance.

"Tallulah, I'm preparing reports for the Alpha Council—"

"I know what Natasha's been doing." My voice came out steadier than I felt. I placed the midnight blue volume on his desk, opened to the damning chapter, then set the woven basket beside it. Inside lay the fresh specimens I'd gathered from the grove that morning—silver leaf, bitter nightshade root, moon's tears fungus. "This is what's been in my tea. This is what's been making me sick."

Ellis's expression went blank. Not shocked. Not angry. Just... empty. That absence of reaction told me more than any words could have.

"You're not well," he said finally, his healer's voice taking on that infuriatingly calm tone. "The illness is affecting your judgment, making you paranoid—"

"Don't." I slammed my palm on the desk, making the herbs jump in their basket. "Don't you dare use your healer voice on me. I've read the texts. Every single symptom matches. The timing, the progression, the way I get worse after your rituals when my defenses are lowest. Natasha's been poisoning me with Moonsbane, and you're going to tell me it's all in my head?"

His jaw clenched—that tell I'd learned to recognize when he was lying. "Where did you get these plants? Anyone can find similar herbs in the forest—"

"From her private grove. The one she visits every few nights when she thinks everyone's asleep." I pulled out the small notebook where I'd documented everything—dates, times, symptoms, the correlation between Natasha's tea and my declining health. "Four months of evidence, Ellis. Four months of systematic poisoning while you performed your useless healing rituals."

"That's enough." His Alpha voice cracked through the room like a whip, but I was too far gone to submit. My wolf, weak as she was, snarled in agreement with my defiance.

"Is it? Because I'm just getting started. How long have you known? Did you know from the beginning, or did you figure it out somewhere along the way and just decide to let it continue?"

The door opened before he could answer. Natasha stood in the threshold, her expression perfectly arranged into concern. "I heard shouting. Is everything—" Her eyes landed on the basket, and something cold flickered across her features. "Tallulah, what have you done?"

"What have I done?" A bitter laugh escaped me. "I've exposed you. All those caring smiles, all that sisterly concern, while you were slowly killing me."

She moved into the room with practiced grace, her gaze shifting to Ellis. Some unspoken communication passed between them, and my stomach dropped.

"Ellis, she's clearly having another episode," Natasha said softly. "The bond sickness is making her delusional. We should call for the healers—"

"Don't touch that evidence." I stepped between her and the desk, but she was already moving, faster than I could track in my weakened state. Her hand swept across the surface, knocking the basket to the floor. Herbs scattered across the carpet.

I lunged to stop her, but Ellis's hand clamped around my wrist. "Guards!"

Two pack warriors appeared in the doorway as if they'd been waiting. Of course they'd been waiting. Ellis's eyes met mine, and in that moment, I saw the truth I'd been avoiding—he knew. He'd always known.

"Restrain her before she hurts herself," he ordered, his voice flat.

Strong hands gripped my arms, pulling me back as Natasha calmly gathered the scattered herbs. She moved to the fireplace, and I watched in horror as she tossed them into the flames one by one. The ancient text followed, its midnight blue leather curling and blackening.

"No! Ellis, stop her! That's evidence—"

But he just stood there, watching his foster sister destroy the only proof I had. The warriors' grip tightened as I struggled, their fingers digging into my arms hard enough to bruise.

Natasha turned to me with a smile that no longer bothered to hide its satisfaction. "There's nothing wrong with the herbal tea I've been making for you, Tallulah. It's a shame your illness has progressed to paranoid delusions. Isn't it, Ellis?"

"A shame," he agreed quietly.

The last of the evidence turned to ash in the fireplace. My notebook lay abandoned on the desk, but what good were written observations against an Alpha's word? Against the word of his beloved foster sister?

The warriors released me at Ellis's nod, and I stumbled, catching myself on the desk. My body shook with rage and betrayal and the terrible understanding that I was utterly alone in this.

"Get some rest," Ellis said, already turning away from me. "We'll discuss increasing your healing sessions tomorrow."

More rituals. More opportunities for them to weaken me further while maintaining their façade of concern. I looked between them—my mate and his sister—and saw the truth written in their carefully neutral expressions.

They wanted me gone. Not dead, perhaps, but broken enough that I'd be no threat to whatever twisted arrangement they'd made between themselves.

I left the study on unsteady legs, my mind racing. If I couldn't find help within the pack, I'd have to look outside it. Dr. Helena Sage's name came to me like a lifeline—the renowned healer from neutral territory who'd given a lecture at the inter-pack gathering last spring. She would listen. She would understand.

She had to.