I'd made it halfway when the first wave hit.
Not emotion this time—memory. Raw, visceral, bloody. The Northern wolf's pain slammed into me through someone else's recollection. I saw it all: claws raking across throat, the spray of arterial blood, the victim's shock as he fell. But warped, filtered through the attacker's perspective. Through their satisfaction.
My knees buckled.
"Luna!" Multiple voices, multiple hands reaching. But their touch only made it worse. Every wolf who grabbed me transmitted their own emotions—alarm, disgust, pity—layering over the violent memory until I couldn't breathe.
"Don't touch her!" Morgana's command cut through the chaos. The old healer shouldered through the crowd, her power clearing a path. "Back away, all of you. Now."
Through blurred vision, I saw Marcus frozen on the platform. Our bond pulsed with his mortification, his fury. The Northern Alpha watched with calculating eyes while whispers rippled through the crowd.
"...happening again...""...can't even walk straight...""...what kind of Luna...""...the pregnancy making it worse..."
Pregnancy. The word spread like wildfire. So much for keeping it quiet.
Morgana's weathered hands framed my face, her shields mercifully strong. "Breathe, child. Find your center."
"I saw it," I gasped. "The attack. Someone in this room—they did it. They're remembering—"
"Quiet." Her voice was urgent, fearful. "Not here."
But it was too late. The Northern Alpha had descended from the platform, his power preceding him like a storm front. Up close, he was devastating—all sharp angles and barely leashed violence. When he spoke, his voice carried to every corner of the hall.
"The Silver Moon Luna claims to have seen the attack on my wolf." Each word was precisely weighted. "Perhaps she'd like to share her... vision with us all?"
Trap. This was a trap, and I was already caught.
"I—" My voice cracked. The room spun, too many emotions battering against my broken shields. "I felt... someone's memory. Someone here—"
"Fascinating." He circled me like the predator he was. "A Luna who can read minds. How... useful. Tell me, what am I thinking right now?"
The challenge in his voice was clear. But when I tried to read him, I hit walls of ice. He was shielded, prepared. They all were now, the ranked wolves slamming their mental barriers closed. All except...
There. In the crowd. A flicker of panic quickly smothered. One of our own warriors, Jonas, his guilt blazing like a beacon before he managed to lock it down.
But if I named him, here, now, with no proof but my word...
"I... I can't." The admission tasted like ash. "It doesn't work that way."
His smile was all teeth. "No? Then how does it work? This gift of yours that lets you accuse my wolf of lying about his attack?"
"I didn't—"
"She's pregnant," Marcus interrupted, finally moving from the platform. But his approach felt more like damage control than support. "Her gift is unstable. Surely the Northern Pack understands that breeding wolves sometimes experience... irregularities."
Breeding wolves. Like I was livestock.
The Northern Alpha's eyes gleamed. "Indeed. Though one wonders what other irregularities might manifest. The attack on my wolf, for instance. He reported feeling... compelled. As if something was influencing his mind before the claws struck."
The implication hung heavy. A Luna who could feel minds. An attack involving mental influence. The conclusion wrote itself.
"You're suggesting my mate attacked your wolf?" Marcus's voice held deadly quiet.
"I'm suggesting that power unchecked is dangerous." The Northern Alpha's gaze never left me. "In the Old Country, we have ways of testing such gifts. Of ensuring they're not... corrupted."
"The Silver Moon Pack handles its own."
"Does it?" He gestured to where I knelt, still supported by Morgana. "Because from where I stand, it seems you can't even handle one broken Luna."
The word hit like a physical blow. Broken. Even the outsiders could see it.
Marcus's rage flared through our bond, but when he spoke, his words destroyed me. "My mate's condition is unfortunate, but contained. She poses no threat to anyone but herself."
No threat. Contained. Like I was a rabid dog on a leash.
"Marcus," I breathed, reaching for him through our bond. But I found only walls, his emotions locked away except for what he chose to show—disappointment, embarrassment, resignation.
"Beta Garrett," he continued, not looking at me. "Escort the Luna to our chambers. She needs rest."
"No." I struggled to stand, Morgana's hands steadying me. "The ceremony—"
"Will proceed without you." Finally, his eyes met mine. Storm-gray ice. "For the good of the pack."
For the good of the pack. The words every Luna swore to live by, now used to dismiss me like a misbehaving child.
Garrett appeared at my elbow, his satisfaction carefully hidden but bleeding through in drops. "Come, Luna. Let's not make this worse."
Worse? How could it be worse? My mate had just publicly declared me unfit. The Northern wolves thought I was either insane or dangerous. And somewhere in this room, the real attacker watched it all unfold exactly as planned.
As Garrett led me away, I caught Jonas's eye in the crowd. His fear spiked, confirming what I'd felt. But beside him, three other wolves showed the same tells—minute flinches, guilty glances, shields slammed too tight.
Not one attacker. Four. Coordinated. Planned.
And Garrett's hand on my arm, guiding me away from the evidence, away from my mate, away from any chance to defend myself.
"The Northern Alpha was right about one thing," he murmured as we left the hall. "Power unchecked is dangerous. But don't worry, Luna. That problem will be resolved soon enough."
The threat was naked now, not even veiled. But when I opened my mouth to scream, to warn Marcus through our bond, I found only silence.
He'd closed himself off completely. Cut me out.
And I was alone with the wolf who'd orchestrated my downfall, walking deeper into the trap with every step.