Chapter 4

Back home, I sat before the fireplace, staring into the flickering embers.

My phone chimed.

A message from Chloe:

[Word on the street is you've been digging into the warehouse ledgers?]

I replied: [Who told you that?]

[The whole pack is whispering. Some say you and James had a huge fight. Others say you suspect something between him and Lily.]

My fingers trembled as I typed back:

[Did you know too?]

Chloe went quiet for a long moment before sending a voice message.

Her voice was hushed and strained:

"Lynn... I never knew how to bring it up. I thought you already knew and just looked the other way. You know how wolf packs are—it's not uncommon for an Alpha to have multiple partners. I honestly thought you were okay with it."

The moment the recording ended, I hurled my phone against the floor.

*Normal?*

*Okay with it?*

No one had ever told me.

No one had ever asked if I accepted it.

They just assumed I knew, assumed I approved, assumed I was simply a gracious, permissive Luna.

And I had been kept entirely in the dark.

I picked up the phone. A crack ran across the glass.

I texted Chloe:

[I didn't know. I didn't know a single damn thing.]

Chloe called right back.

"What did you say? You really didn't know about James and Lily?"

"Why should I have known?"

"Because..." She hesitated. "They've been together for nearly ten years. Lily's boy is his. The entire pack knows. James marked her—her scent gives it away instantly. We all thought you knew and just chose not to care."

*He marked her.*

When an Alpha marks a mate, their scents intertwine.

Any werewolf could smell it from a mile away.

No wonder everyone knew—they could smell it.

Only I couldn't. Because I was human.

"Lynn? Are you still there?"

"Yes."

"What are you going to do?"

I stared at the dancing flames in the hearth and spoke slowly, deliberately:

"I'm going to make them pay."

With the mountain passes snowed in, all trade between the pack and the outside world ceased.

Oak Bay relied entirely on pre-winter reserves to survive.

In previous years, I would sit with the elders to audit the granaries and meat stores, ensuring every family received their fair share.

This year, James had excluded me completely under the pretext of "Alpha authority."

Sensing foul play, I asked Chloe to pull the warehouse transaction logs.

Three days later, Chloe slipped into my room holding a handwritten ledger.

Her face was grim.

"For the past three years, right before winter hit, James pulled supplies under the guise of 'border outpost provisions.' Small amounts each time, just under the threshold of suspicion."

She opened the book and tapped a line with her finger.

"None of those provisions ever reached the outposts. I asked the western guards—they said the outposts have been starving. Two elderly wolves froze and starved to death before winter even set in."

A sick chill crept down my spine as I read the numbers.

"Where did the food go?"

"That cabin in the Western District," Chloe sneered. "And guess what? The cellar is packed with enough cured meat and grain to feed a family of five for two full years."

I closed my eyes.

The pack's reserves were literally lives. With the mountain cut off, every scrap of food meant life or death.

And James Wilson had stolen food meant for dying pack members to feed his mistress and bastard son.

"There's one more thing," Chloe lowered her voice. "The handler who signed off on those supply transfers... her name is Grace Miller."

My eyes snapped open.

*Grace Miller.*

A name etched deep into my memory.

So it was her.