My Alpha Planned to Trade Me to Another Pack

I found Maren in the healing room just after dawn, grinding dried yarrow into powder with the kind of focused precision I'd taught her myself. She looked up when I entered, her hands stilling on the mortar.

'Luna,' she said quietly. 'I wasn't expecting you this early.'

I closed the door behind me. Locked it. The click echoed in the small space.

'I need you to verify something,' I said. 'Drake's private medicine cabinet. There's a vial in the back left corner, unmarked. I need to know what's in it.'

Maren's hands went very still. She didn't ask why. She didn't ask how I knew it was there. She simply set down the mortar and nodded once.

She returned twenty minutes later. Pale. Wordless. She held out a small glass vial, her fingers trembling slightly as I took it from her.

I brought it to my nose. Breathed in carefully. The scent hit me immediately—bitter, metallic, with the distinctive acrid undertone that only wolfsbane carried. But this wasn't the raw compound. This was refined. Blended. A slow-acting formula designed to suppress wolf function without immediate detection, the kind a skilled poisoner would use to stage a natural death as a rogue attack.

Identical to what would have been used on my father.

I set the vial down on my workbench. My hands did not shake.

'Luna—' Maren's voice cracked slightly.

'I know,' I said quietly. I pulled out my evidence kit from the locked drawer beneath the counter—the one I'd kept hidden for weeks now—and placed the vial inside, beside the photographed voice messages, the tribute financial records, the territorial pact documents. Everything sealed. Everything dated. Everything incontrovertible.

I looked at Maren. Her eyes were wide, her wolf close to the surface in the way young wolves got when they were frightened.

'Stay close to me at the Solstice Feast,' I said.

She nodded. She didn't ask what I was planning. She simply said, 'Yes, Luna,' and left.

I stood alone in my healing room, surrounded by the compounds I'd mixed with my own hands, and I thought about my father. About the night he died. About the rogue attack that was never a rogue attack at all.

My wolf pressed against my ribs. Hard. Insistent.

*Soon,* I told it. *Tomorrow.*

---

The night before the Winter Solstice Pack Feast, Drake called me into his study.

I arrived exactly on time. He sat behind his desk, a glass of whiskey in one hand, the picture of an Alpha at ease in his own territory. He smiled when I entered. Warm. Expansive. The smile of a man who believed he'd already won.

'Harper,' he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. 'Sit. Please.'

I sat. My hands folded in my lap. My thumb found the space beside my mate mark—not the scar itself, but the cold skin next to it. Pressing.

'I wanted to speak with you before the feast,' Drake continued. 'To explain your role tomorrow night.'

'My role?' I kept my voice neutral. Curious.

'Yes.' He leaned back in his chair, still smiling. 'I've arranged something special. A diplomatic gesture, you might say. One befitting a Luna of your... particular qualities.'

He was performing. I could see it in the careful way he chose his words, in the magnanimous tone he used when he wanted to appear generous. He was setting the stage for something.

I performed back. 'That's very thoughtful of you,' I said, with the composed warmth of a Luna who suspected nothing. 'I'm honored to serve the pack however you see fit.'

Drake's smile widened. 'I knew you'd understand. You've always been so... accommodating.'

The word landed like a blade between my ribs, but I didn't flinch. I simply nodded. Thanked him. Rose from my chair with the same quiet grace I'd maintained for three years.

He watched me leave. I felt his gaze on my back all the way to the door.

I returned to my room and spent the next two hours conducting a final review of every piece of evidence in my field kit. The photographed voice messages—Ryleigh's voice calling Drake 'Alpha,' explicit and damning. The tribute financial records—three external accounts, money moving through channels that didn't exist. The wolfsbane vial Maren had retrieved. The territorial pact documents Drake had signed without council approval.

Everything was in place.

I opened the mind link I'd established with Kieran.

*Tomorrow. Everything is in place. Bring Silas.*

His response came within seconds.

*He's already here.*

I closed the link. My wolf stirred, pressing against my ribs with an urgency that felt almost like claws.

I pressed back. Gentle. Reassuring.

*Tomorrow,* I told it. *We move tomorrow.*

---

I selected my Solstice Feast attire with deliberate care.

White. The color of mourning in the old pack traditions. Most wolves wouldn't recognize it—the custom had faded decades ago, replaced by the modern practice of wearing formal black. But the eldest wolves in the hall would know. They would see the white dress and understand what I was saying without words.

I was already in mourning. For my father. For the mate bond that had never been real. For the three years I'd spent holding together a pack that had never truly been mine.

I ate a full meal alone in my room before the feast began. Roasted chicken. Root vegetables. Bread. I needed my strength, and I couldn't risk eating anything at the feast itself.

Then I drank water. A full glass. And then another.

Finally, I opened the locked drawer beneath my workbench and retrieved the small vial I'd prepared weeks ago—my own formulation of wolfsbane antidote, refined and concentrated, designed to counteract the slow-acting tincture I knew was coming.

I measured the dose carefully. Drank it in one swallow. The taste was bitter, metallic, but I'd tasted worse.

My wolf, which had been pressing against my ribs with increasing insistence for days, went very still as I finished the antidote.

I stood in front of the mirror and looked at myself. White dress. Dark hair pulled back. The mate mark on my neck cold and hollow beneath my fingertips.

I looked like a Luna. I looked like a woman in mourning. I looked like someone who was about to walk into a room full of wolves and tear their entire world apart.

I picked up my evidence kit. Sealed. Dated. Incontrovertible.

Then I walked out of my room and headed toward the great hall.

The Solstice Feast had begun.