The scent of copper and burnt pine was the last thing I expected to smell on my third wedding anniversary.

I knelt in the freezing mud of the Blackwood border, my palms glowing with a flickering, pale gold light that was rapidly fading. My breath came in ragged, shallow gasps, each one tearing at my lungs like shards of jagged glass. Rain lashed down, mixing with the sweat and blood on my face, blurring my vision until the world was nothing but a smear of grey and red.

Across from me lay Kaelen, my husband and the Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. He was a man built of granite and moonlight, usually the most formidable force in the forest. But today, he was broken. His chest had been shredded by silver-tipped claws during the rogue ambush, the flesh weeping a blackened, toxic pus that hissed whenever my healing light touched it.

"Stay with me, Kaelen," I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of my exhaustion. "I’ve almost got it. Just... just a little more. Don't you dare close your eyes."

I poured every ounce of my spiritual energy—my very soul—into the wound. As a Pack Healer, my life was a vessel for others. For three years, I had been the silent pillar of this pack. I had healed their broken bones, cured their fevers, and even taken their physical pain into my own body so they could fight longer. But today, I was empty. I had been healing his frontline warriors for twelve hours straight without a single moment to breathe or eat. My vision was tunneling, spots of black dancing in my eyes like soot from a dying fire.

"Elara... stop," Kaelen groaned, his hand weakly gripping my wrist. His grip, once so warm and protective, felt like a shackle.

For a second, a foolish, desperate spark of hope ignited in my chest. Was he worried about me? Was he finally seeing that I was fading, that my skin was turning the color of ash just to keep him standing? Did he finally realize that his "weak" mate was the only thing keeping him from the Goddess’s gates?

"Save... save your strength," he wheezed, his eyes tracking something behind me.

"I can do it, Kaelen. I’m your mate. I won’t let you leave me," I sobbed, pressing my palms harder against the silver-burned meat of his shoulder. The gold light flared with a final, violent intensity. I felt a sharp, agonizing pull in the center of my chest—the feeling of my own life force being scraped from the bottom of the barrel. It felt like my veins were being filled with molten lead.

Then, the bushes parted.

A woman stumbled out into the clearing. It was Sienna, the daughter of our Beta. She was wearing a silk dress that looked suspiciously pristine, though it was torn in just the right places to reveal her pale, flawless shoulders. She didn't have a single scratch on her. Her hair wasn't even matted with the mud that covered me from head to toe. Yet, she was wailing as if she were the one with a hole in her chest.

"Kaelen! Help me!" she screamed, throwing herself onto the wet ground just a few feet away. "The rogues... they touched me! I can feel the poison in my blood! It burns, Kaelen! It hurts so much!"

Kaelen’s head snapped toward her. The man who had been too weak to speak seconds ago suddenly found a miraculous reservoir of strength. He shoved my hands away—the very hands that were knitting his muscle and bone back together—and scrambled through the mud toward her.

"Sienna? No... no, not you," Kaelen gasped. His voice was raw, filled with a terrifying, primal devotion he had never once shown me, not even on our wedding night.

"She’s fine, Kaelen," I said, my voice trembling as I collapsed backward, my strength finally breaking. My heart gave a sickening thud, skipping a beat. "She isn't wounded. I can see her aura, Kaelen... it’s bright. She’s fine! I’m the one... I’m losing my connection. Kaelen, if I don't finish the seal on your chest, the silver will reach your heart in minutes. You’ll die."

He didn't even look back at me. He was cradling Sienna in his arms, his face buried in the crook of her neck, murmuring words of comfort that felt like daggers in my ears.

"Elara, heal her. Now!" Kaelen barked, his Alpha command hitting me like a physical blow to the stomach. "She says she’s poisoned. Don't just sit there being selfish!"

"Selfish?" I whispered, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in my throat. I looked down at my hands; they were trembling so hard I couldn't hold them still. My fingernails were blue. "I have given this pack everything. I have given you everything! I am dying right in front of you, and she is lying!"

Kaelen turned his head then. His eyes, which I once thought were the color of warm earth, were cold and narrowed with disgust. "You have always been jealous of her, Elara. Even now, when she’s suffering, you think only of your own 'exhaustion.' You are the Luna. Your life belongs to this pack. It belongs to me. Now, heal her, or I will consider this an act of treason against your Alpha. I will strip you of your title here in the mud."

The words broke something inside me that no healing magic could fix. The mating bond in my chest, that golden cord that was supposed to be a source of strength, turned into a cold, heavy chain.

I looked at Sienna. Over Kaelen’s shoulder, her sobbing stopped instantly. Her eyes met mine—they were sharp, cruel, and dancing with a dark triumph. She didn't look like a victim. She looked like a predator. She mouthed three words, silent and deadly: “He’s mine now.”