Damon, the Beta, was accustomed to order. In the sprawling, rustic Lycan compound, every wolf had a defined place, every rule was absolute, and every path led directly to the Alpha. For five years, her path had been clear: Ryan's rejection of his true mate—that weak, scentless human—had paved the way for her, the powerful, pure-blood Beta, to become the Shadow Luna. She was the one who managed the Council, maintained pack discipline, and stepped in as the Alpha's partner in all but name.
But for the past week, Damon's meticulously constructed order had been dissolving into chaos.
Ryan had returned from the city negotiations distant, distracted, and cloaked in a foreign, infuriating scent: the clean, crisp signature of Thorne Global Acquisitions and, underneath that, something sweeter, younger, and overwhelmingly, intoxicatingly Lycan.
Damon stood in Ryan's study, the nerve center of the Lycan territory, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the ancient oak desk. She had waited an hour for him, fuming. When Ryan finally entered, he wasn't wearing his usual crisp, authoritative attire; he wore the wrinkled, discarded human clothes he'd been wearing on his "discreet missions."
"The border dispute with the Moon-Howl Pack is escalating, Ryan," Damon stated, skipping pleasantries. Her voice was sharp, laced with the command she was accustomed to using. "They are claiming the northern hunting grounds. We need to deploy the warriors and you need to show force. You are Alpha. You cannot be absent."
Ryan merely sighed, running a tired hand over his jaw. He looked depleted, his usual restless Alpha energy drained. "It's a minor claim, Damon. Send two squads of patrols and offer a compromise on the western line. They'll accept."
"Compromise?" Damon's eyes narrowed, her own wolf pressing close to the surface. "We are Lycans. We don't compromise. We take."
Ryan looked at her then, his amber gaze cold and distant. "We are also businessmen, Damon. We are not brutes. We are bleeding assets in the city—assets your family promised to protect. I need to focus on the merger."
"The merger is collapsing because of her," Damon hissed, using the contemptuous pronoun for Elara. "She is a human commoner, a rogue CEO who appeared from nowhere. She is beneath us, yet she somehow holds influence over you. What is she truly using against you, Ryan?"
Dmon's paranoia was fueled by instinct. She was a true Lycan, and she sensed the deep, spiritual trauma Ryan carried now—the re-opened mate bond was a dull ache that permeated the pack's shared consciousness. The scent of the strange pups he had brought back from the city had only intensified her suspicion.
She had already checked the security logs for Lycan Holdings. The guards reported a breach—a discrete individual stealing a minor item from the premises. The description matched Ryan's movements. She was certain he was lying about something vast, something that threatened her future as Luna.
"I am handling Elara Thorne, Damon," Ryan warned, his voice taking on the dangerous edge she knew to respect. "You focus on the pack and stay out of corporate affairs."
"I am the pack, Ryan!" Damon retorted, her fists clenching. "I have served this pack since the day you rejected that human and chose me to manage the transition. You promised the Council I would be Luna. You promised me the bond."
"And you will be," Ryan said, his tone flat. "Once I stabilize the company and deal with this… acquisition. For now, you will follow my orders. You will not interfere with Elara Thorne."
With that final command, Ryan turned and walked into his private quarters, sealing the door behind him. The act was a rejection almost as severe as the one Elara had faced five years prior.
Damon stood alone, trembling with suppressed rage. Ryan was distracted by that worthless human. He was weak. His Alpha vision was compromised. If he couldn't see the threat, she would handle it.
The human is nothing. She is weak. She is scentless.
But then the foreign scent, that sweet, strong, young Lycan scent, flashed across her senses again. Damon felt her blood turn to ice. No rogue pup could smell that dominant.
It had to be a lie. A scheme. Elara had found a powerful rogue pup and was using it as leverage. She was using human deception to destroy the pack.
Damon pulled out her burner phone—a device only used for the pack's dirtiest secrets. She dialed a number for a low-level, human executive she had placed within Lycan Holdings' Human Resources department years ago.
"It's me," Damon said into the phone, her voice dropping into a low, conspiratorial whisper. "I need a full, deep background dive on Elara Thorne. Everything. Her assets, her history, her location, and every person she associates with."
She paused, looking at the door to Ryan's quarters, the cold, powerful Alpha who was abandoning his duties for a ghost.
"I also need you to confirm a rumor," she continued, her voice heavy with venomous certainty. "I need to know if that bitch has managed to find or buy any children in the last five years."
Damon smiled, a dark, unpleasant curve of her lips. She was the one who had waited patiently for the Alpha. She was the one who deserved the Luna title. If Elara Thorne was playing a game of human rules, Damon would use the rules of corporate espionage and Lycan superiority to expose and eliminate the threat.
The pack needed a strong Luna. And if Ryan refused to claim his authority, Damon would do it for him. The Shadow Luna would protect her territory, no matter the cost.