You Stole My Pup, I'll Slaughter Your Pack!

The heavy iron door to the underground archives groaned as I shoved it shut.

"Ten years," I whispered to the damp stone walls.

I pulled the bone dagger from my belt. Kaelen kept his personal vault locked behind ancient warding, right beneath the sanctuary floor.

"Ten years of playing the perfect, obedient Luna."

I wedged the blade into the microscopic seam of the hidden compartment. The stone panel bore Kaelen Blackwood's private crest.

"You thought I would just cry in our den," I muttered, applying pressure to the hilt. "You thought I was too weak to look."

The locking mechanism snapped. The panel popped outward.

Inside rested a single leather-bound folder. The original logs from the Fertility Ritual, dated five years ago.

"Let's see the truth," I said, pulling the heavy parchment free.

The ink on the page remained dormant, shielded by blood magic. Only a genetic match or the Alpha himself could read the true text.

"I bled for your son tonight," I told the empty room. "I can bleed for myself."

I dragged the dagger's edge across my index finger. A bright red bead welled up instantly.

"Show me," I commanded.

I pressed my bleeding fingertip directly onto the center seal. The parchment hissed.

My blood traced the invisible grooves, glowing a sickly gold before settling into elegant cursive script.

*Egg Donor:*

I stared at the blank space next to the title. The gold ink flared one final time.

*Selene Croft.*

"Not my eggs," I said aloud. The syllables tasted like ash.

I traced the letters of her name.

"You harvested hers," I whispered. "You put her child inside me."

I didn't scream. I didn't collapse into a weeping mess.

Instead, a dry, grating laugh clawed its way up my throat. I smiled slowly, dangerously. A wide, terrifying smile stretching across my face in the dim cellar.

"You made me a living incubator for your mistress," I sneered at the page. "You drained my spiritual energy to keep her fragile pup alive."

Footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. An orange glow flickered under the doorframe.

"Check the lower vaults," a male voice ordered. Silas, the High Priest's deputy.

"Nobody comes down here at this hour," a second voice grumbled. A guard.

"The Alpha ordered increased security. Move."

"Did you see the pup's fur?" the guard asked, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"I saw a shadow," Silas snapped.

"It was silver. I swear it. The Croft bloodline is silver."

"Keep your mouth shut if you want to keep your tongue," Silas warned. "The Alpha said black, so it's black."

"But the Luna—"

"The Luna is irrelevant," Silas interrupted. "She served her purpose. Now check that door."

I stood frozen by the open compartment. The torchlight crept higher up the iron frame of the door.

"It's locked," the guard reported, rattling the heavy handle.

"Use the master key," Silas instructed.

My left hand gripped the edge of the wooden shelf. The heavy silver band on my ring finger dug into my skin. The Luna ring. A decade of carrying Kaelen's crest.

"Not anymore," I whispered.

I pinched the cold metal. It resisted, clinging to my knuckle like a shackle.

"Get off," I hissed.

I yanked it hard. The skin underneath scraped raw and pale, but the ring slid free.

"You don't own me, Kaelen," I murmured, shoving the heavy silver band into my jeans pocket. "I will strip you of everything."

Keys jingled outside. Metal scraped against metal in the lock.

"Hurry up," Silas barked. "This place gives me the creeps."

"The key is stuck," the guard complained. "The dampness rusts these old tumblers."

I moved fast. I grabbed the forged public log from the lower shelf and shoved it into Kaelen's private compartment.

"Click," I whispered, pressing the stone panel back into place. The warding sealed shut.

From my pouch, I grabbed a handful of dried wolfsbane and sage.

"Cover the scent," I muttered to myself.

I crushed the dry leaves between my palms. The bitter dust fell over my boots, masking the metallic tang of my freshly spilled blood.

"Got it," the guard announced. The lock clicked loudly.

"Finally," Silas sighed. "Sweep the room and let's get back upstairs."

I backed away from the door, melting into the pitch-black shadows of the deepest corner.

The heavy iron door swung open. Torchlight flooded the front half of the archive.

"See? Empty," the guard said, waving the flames around.

"Smells like mold and weeds," Silas noted, coughing into his fist.

"It's a basement vault. What did you expect?" the guard retorted. "Can we go now?"

"Fine," Silas agreed. "Lock it back up."

The door slammed shut. The lock engaged with a heavy thud. The orange light faded into complete darkness, and their footsteps receded down the hall.

I exhaled, brushing the remaining herb dust from my jeans.

"Phase one," I murmured, turning toward the secondary exit tunnel. "You want to play the devoted Alpha, Kaelen? I will ruin your entire—"

A massive shadow detached itself from the wall beside me.

Before I could draw my dagger, a rough, calloused hand clamped hard over my mouth.

A solid, muscular chest pressed flush against my back, pinning my arms to my sides.

The scent hit me instantly. Cold pine. Sharp, dominant, and entirely foreign.

A top-tier Alpha.

"Scream, and we both get caught, Luna," a deep, raspy voice whispered directly against my ear.