My Husband Tried to Make Her Luna

The silver chains bit into my wrists, each link burning like molten metal against my skin. Three days. Three days of agony as the silver poisoned my blood, weakening the bond with my wolf until Goldie's voice became a faint whisper in my mind.

"She's awake again," a gruff voice said somewhere above me.

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the dim light of the cellar. A Rogue with a scarred face leered down at me, his breath reeking of cheap whiskey.

"Your Alpha husband hasn't paid the ransom," he sneered, crouching beside me. "What kind of mate abandons his precious Luna?"

My throat burned with thirst, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg. "Christian will come for me."

The Rogue laughed, the sound echoing off the damp stone walls. "That's what you think. He's probably celebrating his freedom right now."

He leaned closer, his fingers brushing my cheek in a gesture that made my skin crawl. "Such pretty skin for a high-born bitch. Pity it'll be scarred when we're done with you."

Something inside me snapped. Goldie stirred, her rage feeding mine despite the silver's suppression.

"Get away from me," I whispered, my voice hoarse but still carrying the edge of an Alpha's command.

The Rogue slapped me hard across the face, sending stars dancing across my vision. "You're not an Alpha anymore, princess. You're just our prisoner."

As he turned to grab a water bottle from the table, I summoned every ounce of strength I had left. My fingers, numb from the silver's effects, closed around the small dagger concealed in the lining of my jacket—the only silver that didn't burn me, blessed by the Moon Priestess as protection.

With a swift motion, I drove the blade into his throat.

He gurgled, eyes wide with shock as he collapsed. Blood pooled beneath him, warm and sticky against my legs.

"Goldie," I whispered, feeling her stir within me. "We need to go."

The silver chains wouldn't yield to my weakened strength, but the dagger's point worked into the lock. One minute. Two. The mechanism finally clicked.

Freedom.

I stumbled to my feet, legs trembling beneath me. The cellar door creaked as I pushed it open, revealing a stormy night. Rain lashed against my face, but after three days in that suffocating darkness, even the cold felt like salvation.

---

The forest blurred around me as I dragged myself toward Silver King territory. Every step sent shards of pain through my body. The silver poisoning had weakened me too much to shift fully—I could only manage partial transformations, my hands shifting to claws when I needed to climb, my senses sharpening just enough to track my way home.

Blood trailed behind me, a scent trail any wolf could follow. I couldn't stop to tend my wounds. Not yet.

As I approached the territory borders, Goldie suddenly surged forward with unexpected strength.

"Something's wrong," she growled within me.

I paused at a large oak marking the boundary between our lands and the neutral zone. There, caught in the bark's ridges, was a familiar scent.

Christian's expensive cologne.

But beneath it lurked something else—something metallic and distinct. The Rogue leader I'd killed had worn this scent. It clung to the bark where someone had rested their hand.

My mate had met with my captors.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. I staggered against the tree, bile rising in my throat.

"He betrayed us," Goldie snarled, her fury matching mine.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep moving. The pack house lights glowed in the distance, warm and inviting—a lie.

---

The servant's entrance was unlocked, just as I'd suspected. Christian always underestimated the loyalty of our staff to me rather than him.

I slipped inside, my bare feet silent against the marble floors. Blood still seeped from my wounds, but I left it. Let him track me if he dared.

The ventilation shaft above the guest wing would give me the vantage point I needed.

I crawled through the dusty metal tunnel until I reached the grate overlooking the largest guest suite. Voices drifted up from below.

"You were amazing tonight," a woman's breathy voice purred.

My stomach twisted as I recognized Anya Wood's tone.

"I've been waiting for this moment for years," Christian replied, his voice thick with satisfaction. "No more pretending with that arrogant bitch."

I peered through the grate. Below me, Christian knotted with Anya on silken sheets, their bodies entwined in a way that made Goldie howl with rage inside me.

"She's probably dead by now," Christian said, stroking Anya's hair. "The Rogues promised to make it slow."

Anya giggled, tracing patterns on his chest. "And you saved all that ransom money."

"Every penny," he confirmed, kissing her deeply. "I need it for our future."

"Did you really poison him?" Anya asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Christian's laugh chilled me to my core. "Alpha Richard was getting suspicious. Liquid wolfsbane in his evening tea for a month. Stopped his heart like clockwork."

My father. My beloved father.

"He thought I was just a weak, chosen mate," Christian continued, his voice hardening. "But I showed him. I'll show them all."

I gripped the vent grate until my knuckles turned white, fighting the urge to scream. Goldie's grief and fury merged with mine, a tidal wave of pain threatening to drown me.

But I couldn't break. Not yet.

Not until I destroyed him completely.