Chapter 2

Ericka POV:

The Old Pack House was a crumbling relic on the edge of the territory, used only for storage and prisoners. They threw me into the attic. It smelled of mold and abandonment-much like how I felt.

My body was screaming. Not just from the rough handling, but from something deeper. Without my wolf spirit to heal me, my immune system was failing. And there was a burning ache in my bones that never went away.

"Comfortable, princess?"

I looked up from the dusty mattress. Hailie stood in the doorway, the door unlocked. She didn't need locks; I was too weak to run.

"Why are you doing this?" I wheezed.

"Because I deserve to be Luna," she said simply, inspecting her manicured nails. "And you? You're just a vessel that served its purpose. A Wolfless waste of space."

"Caleb will find out," I said, though my voice lacked conviction.

"Caleb sees what I want him to see," she laughed. "Get up. The Alpha requires your presence."

"My presence?"

"Tonight is the victory banquet for the recent border skirmish. Caleb thinks it's fitting that the traitor serves the heroes."

The banquet hall was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. The smell of roasted meat made my empty stomach cramp. I was dressed in a ragged gray uniform, forced to carry trays of champagne.

Every time I walked past a table, someone would trip me or spill a drink on me.

"Watch it, traitor," a warrior sneered.

I kept my head down, biting my lip to keep from crying. Then, the room went silent.

Caleb stood at the head table. He looked magnificent in his black suit, a king among wolves. My heart ached with a longing I couldn't control.

"Tonight," Caleb announced, his voice carrying effortlessly, "we celebrate not just our safety, but our future."

He reached out and pulled Hailie to his side. She beamed, radiating smug satisfaction.

"Though the Moon Goddess plays cruel jokes," Caleb said, his eyes flicking briefly, coldly, to where I stood in the shadows, "we make our own destiny. I have chosen my mate. Hailie Silva will be your Luna."

The pack erupted in cheers.

My tray slipped from my fingers. Crash.

The sound of shattering glass cut through the applause. The bond in my chest gave a violent lurch, like a physical string being yanked.

"Clean it up!" Caleb barked, not even looking at me.

I fell to my knees, picking up the shards. A sharp piece of glass cut my palm. I didn't feel the pain of the cut. I felt a rising tide of nausea.

My chest convulsed. I couldn't breathe.

Cough.

I covered my mouth, but the force of it bent me double. When I pulled my hand away, it was covered in black blood.

The room went quiet again.

Dr. Evans, the pack doctor, rushed over. He grabbed my wrist, his face paling as he looked at the black substance.

"Alpha," Evans called out, his voice trembling. "This isn't normal. This is... this looks like Silver Poisoning. Her essence is fading rapidly."

Silver poisoning was rare, usually reserved for wolves exposed to massive amounts of the metal. For a Wolfless human, it meant my body was rejecting its own magical heritage because it lacked the spirit to sustain it.

Caleb walked over, looking down at me with disgust.

"Silver poisoning?" He scoffed. "She's been in a coma for five years. Who would poison her? This is just another trick. She's trying to gain sympathy."

"But Alpha, her pulse-"

"Enough!" Caleb silenced the doctor. He kicked a bottle of painkillers toward me. It skidded across the floor and hit my knee.

"Take those and get out of my sight," Caleb ordered. "Stop bleeding on my floor, Ericka. You're ruining the celebration."

I clutched the bottle, looking up at him through a haze of tears. There was no concern in his eyes. Only contempt.

He really wanted me dead.