After My Mate Poisoned My Wolf for Three Years

The bond broke at 6:47 on a Wednesday morning.

I felt it before I heard the words. The mark on my neck—Derek's mark, the one I'd worn for three years—went cold. Not painful. Just empty. Like someone had scooped out the warmth and left a hollow space behind.

I was standing in the council room when the border patrol messenger stumbled through the door. His boots tracked mud across the floor. His face was gray.

"Rogue ambush," he said. "Alpha Derek is dead."

The words should have shattered me. They didn't. The mark on my neck throbbed with that same dull hollowness, and I pressed two fingers against it without thinking. The messenger kept talking—something about the attack, the pelts they'd recovered—but his voice sounded far away.

Beta Marcus Hale stepped forward and laid three rogue pelts on the council table. Evidence, he said. Proof of the attack.

I leaned forward. My hands gripped the table edge.

The first scent hit me: cedar. Derek's scent, unmistakable, woven through the fur like he'd been there when these wolves died.

Then I caught the second layer underneath.

Jasmine and venom.

Aviana.

My stomach turned over. I straightened too fast. The room tilted.

"Excuse me," I said.

I made it to the hallway before I vomited.

---

I came back composed. My hands were steady when I pushed the council room door open again. The patrol wolves were still standing around the table, waiting for me to collapse or cry or do whatever grieving Lunas were supposed to do.

I didn't.

"Marcus," I said quietly. "I need access to Derek's vault."

He blinked. "Luna, I don't think—"

"Now."

Something in my voice made him stop. He looked at me for a long moment, then pulled a keycard from his pocket and set it on the table without meeting my eyes.

I took it and walked out.

---

The vault was in Derek's office, hidden behind a panel that looked like part of the wall. I'd never been inside. He'd never offered, and I'd never asked.

The door swung open with a soft click.

Inside, filing boxes lined the shelves. I pulled the first one down and opened it.

Black-market wolfsbane purchase records. Three years' worth. Doses calculated by body weight. Mine. Timed to my meals.

I set the box down carefully and reached for the next one.

A phone. Not Derek's usual one. This was smaller, older, the kind you bought with cash and threw away when you were done. It was still charged.

I turned it on.

The messages loaded slowly. Months of them. All from the same contact: A.

Aviana.

I scrolled through without blinking.

*The route's clear. No patrols until dawn.*

*He's ready. Are you?*

*New identities are set. No one will find us.*

*One more dose tonight. She won't feel anything.*

I read every message. I didn't look away.

When I finished, I set the phone down next to the wolfsbane records and stared at the wall.

The mark on my neck didn't hurt. It just felt cold.

---

I carried every bag of wolfsbane from the vault to the pack house fireplace. There were eleven of them. I burned them one by one.

The last bag curled to ash, and something inside me cracked open.

Not a voice. Not yet. Just pressure. Enormous and feral, pressing against walls I didn't know I'd been living inside. My ribs felt too small. My skin felt too tight.

I pressed two fingers to the mark on my neck and breathed.

I wasn't going to collapse.

---

That evening, I called the pack together in the main hall. Every wolf in Silverfang came. They filled the room, standing shoulder to shoulder, waiting for their Luna to break down and tell them how much she missed their Alpha.

I stood at the front and laid the evidence on the table. The wolfsbane records. The phone. The messages.

I didn't raise my voice.

"Derek Crawford staged his death," I said. "He's been poisoning me with wolfsbane for three years to suppress my wolf. He planned this with Aviana Hudson. They're both alive."

Silence.

I kept talking. I walked them through every piece of evidence, every dose, every message. I didn't cry. I didn't apologize.

By the time I finished, the wolves in the front row had lowered their eyes.

Not to Derek's memory.

To me.

---

I drafted the summons that night. The Luna Accord was old pack law, the kind most Alphas forgot existed because they never expected a Luna to invoke it. It granted a rejected or widowed Luna the right to call a Rite of Passing and dissolve her pack's territory.

I included the wolfsbane records, the phone, and Marcus's signed testimony.

I sealed the packet and handed it to the courier at dawn.

Then I wrote a second letter. This one wasn't for the Council.

It was for Kade Crawford.

---

He arrived three days later.

I met him at the pack house door. No escort. No ceremony. Just me.

When our eyes met, his scent hit me like a wall.

Dark amber and rain. Warm and cool at the same time. It filled my lungs and made the pressure inside my chest press so hard against my ribs I had to steady myself against the doorframe.

Kade saw it. He didn't move.

He just waited until I straightened, then asked, "Where would you like to begin?"

I stepped back to let him in.

Buster abandoned his post by the door and curled against Kade's boots.

Kade glanced down. He didn't say anything.

He just followed me down the hall.