Chapter 2

Elana POV

Rage is a volatile thing.

At first, it burns like wildfire, consuming everything in its path. But then, if you let it, it turns into ice. Cold, hard, and lethal.

I didn't cry. I didn't scream.

Instead, I sat down at my desk and flipped open my laptop.

Did Emilio think I was merely a designer? He seemed to have forgotten that I oversaw the accounts for the entire infrastructure project.

I logged into the pack's central treasury.

*Access Granted.*

I navigated to the "Northern Defense Fund." Millions of dollars, allocated for the walls I had painstakingly designed. Money that required my digital signature to move.

I initiated a protocol I had written into the contract myself-a "Stop-Work Order" flagged for "Internal Auditing."

*Click.*

The funds were frozen. Instantly.

Every contractor, every supplier, every truck driver hauling cement-payment stopped dead.

Then, I opened the *Mind-Link* to the Council of Elders.

*"Elders,"* I projected my voice, keeping it clinically steady. *"I have detected irregularities in the defense budget. Until a full audit is conducted, I am freezing all construction. I will not be signing off on any further designs."*

The mental uproar was immediate and deafening.

*"What? Elana, we are mid-phase!"*

*"This is preposterous!"*

*"It is necessary,"* I cut them off, my tone brooking no argument. *"Unless you want the Alpha's funds to be... mismanaged."*

Ten seconds later, Emilio's voice boomed in my head. It was heavy, laced with the crushing weight of *Alpha's Command*.

*"Elana! What the hell do you think you are doing? Unfreeze the accounts. Now!"*

The Command pressed down on my shoulders, a physical gravity trying to force me to my knees, demanding submission.

I gritted my teeth. I didn't have a wolf to fight back, but I had my will.

*"I am doing my job, Alpha,"* I replied, my mental voice dripping with frost. *"I am protecting the pack's assets. Or is there something you want to tell me about where the money is going?"*

He went silent.

He didn't know I knew. He thought I was just being difficult, a scorned woman acting out.

*"We will discuss this at home,"* he growled.

"I don't have a home here anymore," I said aloud to the empty room.

I needed air.

I walked out of the Alpha's residence and headed toward the pack square.

It was a sunny afternoon. Pups were playing near the fountain. It looked idyllic. It made me sick.

"Elana!"

I froze.

Walking toward me was Emilio. And clinging to his arm, looking like a delicate flower in a summer breeze, was Hayden.

And holding Hayden's other hand was a toddler. Leo.

They looked like a postcard for the perfect family.

Hayden saw me. Her eyes didn't hold fear. They held triumph.

She let go of Emilio and rushed toward me, her floral dress fluttering around her legs.

"Elana, sister!" she exclaimed, her voice high and sickeningly sweet. She reached out to grab my hands. "You look so pale! Are you working too hard? Emilio worries about you so much."

The scent hit me then.

It wasn't a Mate scent. It was her perfume. Heavy, cloying vanilla trying to mask the metallic scent of deception.

I stepped back, revulsion curling in my stomach.

"Don't touch me," I said. My voice was low, dangerous.

Hayden stopped, her lower lip trembling on cue. "I... I only wanted to help."

Leo, the toddler, looked up. He saw his mother's fake distress. He pointed a chubby finger at me.

"Bad!" he screamed. "Bad lady! You push Mommy!"

He threw himself on the ground and started wailing.

It was a performance. A learned behavior.

The chatter in the square died instantly. Pack members turned to look.

"Did she push her?"

"The Luna is jealous of the Omega."

"Look at poor Hayden."

The whispers were like bee stings. These were people I had helped. I had designed their homes. I had organized their festivals. And in a heartbeat, they turned on me.

Emilio stepped forward, scooping Leo up in one arm and wrapping the other around Hayden. He looked at me with cold, hard eyes.

"Enough, Elana," he said, using his Alpha voice again. It rippled through the square, silencing the crowd. "Jealousy does not become you."

Jealousy?

I looked at him. Really looked at him. The man I thought I loved was gone. In his place was a stranger who used his power to protect a lie.

"You're right, Emilio," I said, my voice flat. "It doesn't."

I turned my back on them.

I didn't defend myself. There was no point. They believed the narrative he had spun.

I walked away, feeling their eyes burning holes in my back.

*

A few days later, a notification popped up on the community board.

"New Workshop: Skills for the Modern Luna. Hosted by Hayden Cleveland."

I laughed. A dry, humorless sound that scraped my throat.

The workshop was held in the community hall. I shouldn't have gone, but I needed to see the extent of the rot.

Hayden stood on the stage, teaching women how to mix herbs for "soothing an Alpha's temper."

Emilio sat in the front row. He watched her like she was the sun. He brought her water. He rubbed her back when she coughed.

At the end of the session, he stood up, kissed her forehead in front of everyone, and linked the entire pack.

*"Attention, Obsidian Pack. Effective immediately, Hayden will be overseeing the distribution of household supplies and the maintenance of the pack house. She has shown a true Luna's heart."*

Those were my duties.

He was stripping me of my role, piece by piece. Publicly.

I stood in the shadows at the back of the hall.

Hayden spotted me as they were leaving. She walked over, Leo on her hip.

"Elana," she smiled, but her eyes were dead. "You really should think about moving out of the Alpha suite. Leo needs more room to play. And... well, it's a bit crowded, isn't it?"

She leaned in close, her whisper like venom. "He's mine, Elana. He was never yours."

I looked at her. I looked at the child who was living proof of my wasted years.

"Enjoy the suite, Hayden," I said. "Just remember, I designed the foundation. And I know exactly how to make it crumble."

"Is that a threat?" she asked, clutching her pearls.

"No," I said, walking past her. "It's a forecast."