CELESTRIA POV
I'm driving too fast and I don't care.
Tears blur my vision as I speed down the highway, away from The Violet Hour, away from Thorne Ravaille and his folder full of dead wives, away from everything.
My hands grip the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turn white.
He used me.
Thorne didn't want to help me—he wanted to use me to get to Dorian. The hotel appointment, the gentle voice Madame Rouge promised, the chance to feel wanted for one night—all of it was a lie.
Just another man manipulating me for his own purposes.
My wolf whimpers in my head. But the file. The dead Lunas. What if he's telling the truth?
"I don't care," I say out loud, my voice cracking. "Even if Dorian is dangerous, Thorne had no right to stalk me. To break into my room. To trick me into—"
Red and blue lights flash in my rearview mirror.
My heart stops.
Pack security. Two vehicles, closing in fast.
I'm at the border between downtown and Quillan territory. Neutral ground technically, but pack security has authority here.
I slow down, pulling to the side of the road. Maybe I was speeding. Maybe they just want to give me a warning.
But my wolf is snarling. Danger. Run.
Two guards approach my car. I recognize them—Marcus and Jev. Both loyal to Dorian. Both werewolves who've never liked me much.
I roll down my window, forcing a calm smile. "Evening, officers. Was I speeding?"
Marcus leans down, his eyes cold. "Step out of the vehicle, Luna."
"What? Why?"
"Alpha's orders. You left pack territory without permission. Without guards. That's a security violation."
My stomach drops. "I went for a drive. That's not against pack law."
"It is when the Luna is considered a flight risk." Jev opens my door, his hand on his weapon. "Out. Now."
Flight risk?
I climb out slowly, my mind racing. This isn't normal protocol. Something's wrong.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask.
"Back to the packhouse," Marcus says. "Alpha Quillan wants to speak with you."
They each grab one of my arms—too tight, like I'm a criminal instead of their Luna.
My wolf surges forward, wanting to fight. But they're trained warriors and I'm just... me.
They lead me toward their vehicle, and that's when I see it.
A third car parked in the shadows. Black. Expensive. And standing beside it, arms crossed, is Dorian.
My blood turns to ice.
"Hello, darling," he says, his voice sickeningly sweet. "Interesting evening you've had."
"Dorian, I can explain—"
"Can you?" He walks closer, and even in the dark, I can see the rage in his eyes. "Explain how you snuck out of our packhouse? How you went to some seedy underground club? How you met with Thorne Ravaille, my greatest enemy?"
He knows.
He knows everything.
"I wasn't—it wasn't—"
"Don't lie to me!" His voice cracks like a whip. The guards holding me tighten their grip. "Did you really think I wouldn't have you followed? That I wouldn't track every pathetic move you make?"
"You've been tracking me?"
"Of course I have! You're MY Luna. MY property. And when you started acting strange, pulling away, I knew you were up to something." He's right in my face now, close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with Senna's perfume. "So I had my men watch you. And imagine my surprise when you drove straight to a club owned by Thorne Ravaille. The same Alpha who's been trying to destroy me for years."
"I didn't know—"
"Didn't know what? That meeting with my enemy is treason? That plotting against your Alpha is grounds for rejection?" He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Or did Thorne already tell you his little theories about my dead wives?"
My heart hammers against my ribs. "They weren't theories. They were murdered."
Dorian's smile is terrifying. "Prove it."
"The autopsies—"
"Have been sealed by the Alpha Council. No one can access them without my permission. And Thorne's little investigation? Completely illegal. Any evidence he gathered is inadmissible." He releases my chin with a shove. "You really thought you could outsmart me, Celestria? You're not smart. You're not special. You're just a weak little Luna who's outlived her usefulness."
"What are you going to do?" I whisper.
"What I should have done years ago." He nods to Marcus and Jev. "Take her to the safe house. Keep her there until I decide what to do with her."
Safe house? That's where they take prisoners. Rogues. Criminals.
"You can't imprison me! I'm your mate!"
"A mate who committed treason. Who met with my enemy. Who's clearly been planning something with Thorne Ravaille." Dorian's eyes flash gold. "The pack will understand why I had to lock you up for everyone's safety."
"No one will believe—"
"Everyone will believe exactly what I tell them to believe." He leans close. "I'm the Alpha, Celestria. I control the narrative. And the narrative is that my mentally unstable Luna tried to run away with my enemy. Poor thing. She'll need psychiatric care. Months of it. Maybe years."
Horror floods through me. He's going to lock me away and tell everyone I'm crazy.
Just like Thorne said he would.
Marcus and Jev drag me toward their vehicle. I fight, kicking and screaming, but they're too strong.
"Let me go! You can't do this!"
"I can do whatever I want," Dorian calls after me. "I'm the Alpha. And you? You're nothing."
They shove me into the back of their vehicle. The doors lock automatically. Child-proof. Prisoner-proof.
I pound on the windows. "Help! Someone help me!"
But we're at the border. No one's around except Dorian's men.
Marcus gets in the driver's seat. Jev beside him. They don't even look back at me as we start driving.
Away from the packhouse. Away from town.
Toward the safe house in the woods where no one will hear me scream.
My phone. I need my phone.
I search my pockets frantically. My purse—it's still in my car. The burner phone Thorne gave me—also in my car.
I have nothing.
No way to call for help. No way to contact anyone.
I'm completely alone.
My wolf howls with rage and fear, throwing herself against the mental barriers, wanting to shift and fight.
But if I shift in this confined space, I'll just hurt myself.
We drive for twenty minutes. The roads get narrower. Darker. Trees close in on both sides.
Finally, we pull up to a small cabin in the middle of nowhere.
Marcus opens my door. "Out."
"Please," I beg. "Whatever Dorian's paying you, I can—"
"Save it, Luna. We follow orders. That's all."
They drag me inside the cabin. It's sparse. One room. A bed. A bathroom. Bars on the windows.
A prison.
"How long?" I ask. "How long is he keeping me here?"
Marcus's expression softens just slightly. "I don't know. But Luna... if I were you, I'd pray Thorne Ravaille actually cares enough to come looking for you. Because once Alpha Dorian files those rejection papers, you'll be packless. And packless wolves don't last long."
They leave, locking the door behind them.
I hear their vehicle drive away.
And then there's nothing but silence and darkness and the horrible realization that I'm trapped.
I sink onto the bed, my whole body shaking.
Thorne was right about everything.
Dorian is a monster. A killer. And I just made it easy for him to get rid of me.
Hours pass. Maybe two. Maybe three. I've lost track of time.
Then I hear it.
A sound outside. Footsteps. Voices.
Hope flares in my chest. Maybe someone came for me. Maybe Isolde noticed I'm missing. Maybe—
The door crashes open.
But it's not a rescue.
It's Senna, holding a syringe filled with clear liquid.
And behind her, a man in a white coat I've never seen before.
"Hello, Celestria," Senna purrs. "Time for your medication. Doctor's orders. You're mentally unstable, remember? This will help you... sleep. Permanently."
The doctor steps forward, and I see it in his dead eyes.
This isn't medicine.
It's poison.
And I'm about to become dead Luna number four.