I made my mate Alpha, beside him as Luna. And in secret, I went back to being the witch no one knows about. Today, Tyson walks into my ritual room with a woman on his arm. “Make her look like my Luna.” The blade in my hand goes cold against my palm. Thank the Goddess for the hooded cloak and the spell masking my scent. He doesn’t recognize me. His own Luna. His fated mate. I keep my voice low, distorted by magic. “Do you understand what this spell does, Alpha Tyson?” “Luna’s bones will crack and reshape. Her face will tear apart from the inside. She’ll lose her scent — every wolf in your pack will walk past her like she’s nothing. She’ll go blind. It’s worse than death.” Tyson looks at me. His eyes are cold. Flat. Like I’m talking about a stranger. “I don’t care. Just do it.” He won’t give up my father’s warriors. But he can’t stand his mistress living in the shadows either. So his plan is to paste my face onto a rogue and let her play Luna? Fine. Seven years of loyalty. Gone. I don’t owe him a damn thing. The only version of me walking back to him will be a widow. And every wolf in Ashgrove will answer to me. “Deal,” I say, turning the blade between my fingers. “But we do this my way. Both women stay here during the process. No interruptions. No one comes in.” Tyson nods. “Alpha.” Nola presses into his chest, fingers curling around his sleeve, lips parted like she wants to say something but won’t. The coldness melts off his face. Just like that. He cups her jaw and murmurs: “Briar’s father commands the most warriors in the region. His wolves only answer to Voss blood. I can’t break ties with her openly.” “And your past… it can’t come to light. This is the safest way.” “Bear with it. After this, you’ll be my Luna. My everything.” Nola’s face lights up. Hope. Hunger. Then she squeezes out a pout of concern. “But what happens to Briar after? She’ll be… ruined. Where will she go?” I’m curious too. What exactly does he plan to do with the real me? Behind the hooded cloak, I watch him. But Tyson doesn’t answer. He turns at the door. “Don’t try anything. And don’t damage her before delivery — I need her untouched.” Then he pulls Nola out with him. I call after him. “Alpha Tyson. When you bring Luna tomorrow, not a scratch on her. No bruises, no cuts. Her skin and hair — untouched. Or the spell won’t hold.” He doesn’t turn around. “Tomorrow.” The chamber door shuts. I pull back the hood. Peel off the cloak. From the witch no one’s ever seen, I become Briar Voss again. Thank the Goddess I listened to my father. He told me never to reveal my witch bloodline to anyone — especially not my mate. He told me to keep my Gamma close and my secrets closer. I tap the edge of the ritual table twice. Fenn steps out of the shadows — my Gamma. She’s been with me since before the mating ceremony. Ironveil-born. Loyal only to me. “Find out everything about that rogue,” I tell her. “I want to know exactly how ‘unspeakable’ her past is.” “And tomorrow — you take my place here. Wear the cloak, use the voice-masking spell. Let him think you’re the witch. When he brings ‘his Luna,’ take her in. I’ll handle the rest.” Fenn nods once and disappears. I pull my cloak back on and slip out the hidden path toward the pack house. The night air hits my skin. Somewhere in the distance, wolves are howling on a pack run. Seven years ago, Tyson swore under this same moon that he’d never betray me. I believed him. Now I’m going to make sure the only Alpha this pack ever answers to again is my five-year-old son, Callum.
Back in the Alpha’s wing of the pack house, I set out a tray of moonberry cakes. I made them by hand. His favorite flavor. The wolfsbane variant I folded into the batter is something no healer in any pack would recognize — because I invented it. It won’t kill him. It won’t even make him sick. It’ll just make sure Callum is the last pup he ever sires. I’m arranging the tray when Tyson walks in. “Briar.” His voice is soft. Warm. “Still up? It’s late.” He’s carrying a cup. The steam curls up between us. “The healer made this for you. It’ll help with your sleep — you’ve been looking tired lately.” His eyes are gentle. That look on his face — tender, concerned, like I’m something precious. Same look he gave me seven years ago when he got on one knee at the borderlands under a full moon and swore he’d never let me down. I believed him then. I let him bring the cup to my lips. Wolfsbane. Diluted. I can taste it under the herbs — faint, but there. Enough to suppress my wolf, cut off my mindlink, make me too weak to shift or fight. He’s drugging me. To make tomorrow easier. I drink every drop. Then I smile up at him. “Tyson. You’re always so good to me.” Something flickers behind his eyes — guilt, maybe — and vanishes. I pick up the tray of cakes and hold it out, eyes bright. “You’ve been running this pack day and night since your father got too weak. You barely eat. I made these for you — new recipe. Try one?” He takes one. Bites. Chews. “These are good.” He takes another. Then a third. I watch him swallow and feel nothing. Seven years ago, the Blood Plague swept through the borderlands. Wolves were dropping dead by the dozens. Tyson was stationed there — and he caught it. I didn’t sleep for five days. I used every scrap of healer knowledge I had, every spell my mother’s bloodline gave me, and I brewed a cure no one thought was possible. Then I ran. Three days straight in wolf form, carrying the cure in my jaws, until I reached him. He was half-dead when I got there. Skin grey. Eyes empty. I brought him back. After that, his father — the old Alpha — finally looked at him. Finally saw a son worth naming heir. At our mating ceremony, the old Alpha stood before the whole pack and passed the title to Tyson. And Tyson — he held my face in his hands that night, eyes red, voice cracking. “Briar, being your mate is the greatest thing that ever happened to me.” “If it wasn’t for you, I’d have burned with the rest of them. You gave me the cure, you gave me the title, you gave me everything.” “I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure every she-wolf in this world envies you.” Now he doesn’t even remember I know medicine. He’s feeding me wolfsbane with a lover’s smile, planning to send me off to be destroyed tomorrow. “Tyson.” I set the cup down, empty. He looks at me. “These cakes,” I say. “You really like them?” “Love them.” He pops the last crumb into his mouth. I tuck myself against his chest, letting the wolfsbane drag my limbs heavy. He carries me to bed. He doesn’t know that after tonight, Callum will be the only pup he ever sires.
The wolfsbane hits hard. My whole body goes slack. My wolf — silent. The mindlink — dead. I can’t shift. Can’t even lift my arms. Tyson lays me on the bed and stands over me, back turned. “Briar. Don’t blame me for this.” “Your father’s warriors only answer to Voss blood. I can’t touch them, and I can’t afford to turn against you openly.” “Everyone whispers behind my back — that I’m only Alpha because of you. Because of your father’s wolves. Because you handed me the cure and I took the credit.” “So I brought Nola back. She’ll wear your face. Take your place. Your father will never know.” “But I won’t abandon you. Even without your face, even without your scent — I’ll keep you hidden. Take care of you. You’ll be safe.” He says “safe” with his back to me. Says it again, quieter. Like he’s convincing himself. I force out a laugh. Thin. Ragged. “Tyson. I’ve been your Luna for seven years. I built alliances for you wolf by wolf. My father gave you his warriors — and you want to take them from Voss blood?” “You’re putting a rogue in my place. The real goal isn’t just replacing me. It’s swallowing my family whole.” His fists clench. He doesn’t turn around. “A blood family whose warriors outnumber mine three to one. No Alpha can stomach that forever.” He walks out. Wolfsbane burns in my throat. Then — footsteps. Heels clicking on stone. Nola sweeps in wearing one of my dresses. “Oh, Briar.” She crouches beside the bed. “Your Gamma’s not here. Your warriors are posted outside the territory on patrol — Tyson sent them out this morning. No one’s coming for you.” “Originally he wanted you gone for good. I’m the one who convinced him to let you live.” “So you should thank me, really. Even as a ruined wolf, at least you’ll be breathing.” She leans closer, breath hot on my ear. “And once I have my own pups with him? Your little Callum is dead weight.” “How does that feel? Helpless yet?” Her pretty face twists into something ugly. I keep my eyes closed. I don’t waste my breath on her. But her idea about Callum? That seals it. Tomorrow, in my ritual room, I’ll make sure she begs for a death I’ll never give. “Mama!” A small voice. Outside the door. My five-year-old. Callum. “Papa said you’re sick. I came to take care of you!” Nola straightens up fast. She leans over me. “Keep playing dead. I’ll deal with your pup.” My eyes snap open. I try to scream— “Callum — go back! Mama’s fine—” It comes out barely a whisper. The wolfsbane has taken everything. Nola strides out. Her voice goes sharp. Loud. Dripping with authority she doesn’t have. “The Alpha heir? Your father said you’re not allowed near your mother. And you disobey? Ungrateful little—” “You think you can give me orders? Lock him in the storage room. No lights.” Callum is afraid of the dark. He’s been afraid since he was three. Panic claws up my throat. I throw everything I have into sitting up— My body slides off the bed and hits the floor. Outside, my son’s voice rings out. Small. But every word lands like iron. “Moon Goddess teaches us — a pup honors his mother above all.” “You’re no one. A stranger in my mother’s home. You don’t give orders here. You don’t raise your voice in my mother’s room.” “I’m going to find Grandfather. And when I do, you’ll answer for this.” I hear his feet — running. A smile cracks across my face. My pup. Nola’s voice shakes with rage. “Go. Tell the Alpha. Now!” She storms back in. Looks down at me on the floor. “Oh, Briar. On the floor like a rogue. How sad.” “You want the truth? That pup won’t reach the old wolf. Tyson’s already replaced every wolf around the old Alpha with his own. No one’s letting that pup through.” I know. I know all of it. Let Tyson take everything. Let him think he’s the winner. He doesn’t see what’s behind him. Once he’s gone, Callum is the only heir. A five-year-old heir needs his mother. And this mother has an entire army of Ironveil warriors one howl away. Let them have tonight. After tomorrow, the only one playing games will be me.
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