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“She’s stable,” he said before I could ask. “The fever’s holding. Her breathing is stronger than it was this morning.”

I let out a slow breath, though the knot in my chest didn’t ease.“But?” I asked.

The healer hesitated before answering. “Still no response. No movement. The bond is there, but... faint. Like her wolf is buried too deep to hear us.” He paused, then added carefully, “I took the liberty of sending a rider to the southern villages to find a human healer. Just in case. If those runes carved out more of her wolf than we estimated, it may be human medicine that helps her now, not ours.”

That idea unsettled me. That she might no longer fully be what she was born to be.

But I nodded. “Thank you. For thinking of it.”

He bowed again. “Of course, Alpha.”

He turned back to his post by the door, and I moved to her side. She lay still, her body pale against the fresh linens, long hair spread out over the pillows like ink across parchment. The last rune, now faded to a faint scar, no longer pulsed. But it had taken something from her. I could feel it.

I sat beside her, reached for her hand—cool, delicate, but steady in mine.

I ran my thumb across her knuckles, breathing in deeply. “You’ll be alright,” I murmured. “You’ve made it through worse.”

The healer spoke gently behind me. “You need rest, Alpha. We’ll stay with her. We’ll keep watch.”

I didn’t argue. I just nodded without looking at him, kissed Lexa’s hand once, and stood. But I didn’t go back to the bed.I went to my study.

The fire was out, but I didn’t bother relighting it. I poured myself a heavy goblet of wine—richer, darker than what we’d had at the outpost. I didn’t sit. I stood at the edge of the room, staring out the narrow window at the snowy expanse of mountains beyond, untouched by fire or grief.

The wine burned going down. But not enough.

I felt her before I saw her—like a sour note in an otherwise silent room. The bond with Lexa was faint, distant… but this? This was sharp, deliberate. Wrong.

The door creaked open and in steppedTanya.

Chestnut hair, polished into perfect curls that fell artfully over one shoulder. Her eyes were warm caramel at first glance—soft, sweet—but they held nothing but calculation. Her dress clung to her in all the ways it was meant to, silk clinging to her curves, boots clicking over the stone floor with confidence far too smug for the hour.

She tilted her head slightly. “I heard what happened.” Her voice was honey-coated concern, but her smile was too smooth. “Is she… alive?”

I didn’t answer. She stepped deeper into the room, her gaze sliding past the wine in my hand, past the shadows under my eyes, like she already knew why I was here. Why I couldn’t rest.

“I thought I told you to stay away,” I said, my voice sharp, low, dangerous.

But she just smiled. Viciously.

She came closer, far too close, and reached up with deliberate ease to trace her perfectly manicured fingers over the mark on my neck—Lexa’s mark. Her nails barely grazed the skin.

“And I thought I’d made my plans to be Luna clear,” she purred.

My hand snapped up, closing brutally around her wrist. She gasped, but not from pain. There was no fear in her eyes. Just hatred. Pure and undiluted. That surprised me more than her arrogance.

Her voice darkened, low and sharp as a knife. “Gods, Ihopewhatever dark filth is crawling through her veins doesn’t slip down the bond and come for you next, once it’s finished with the mutt.”

She smiled, slow and cruel. “We wouldn’t want the leader of our proud pack showing any… signs of weakness.”

My blood roared in my ears. I let go of her hand with disgust and turned toward the hall. “Garrick!” I barked, loud enough to wake the stones.

Tanya stepped back, but her chin stayed high.

When my Beta appeared moments later, still buttoning his coat, he looked between the two of us with a sharp, silent understanding.

“Take her,” I ordered coldly. “She has two days to gather her things. Find her a nice little town. Comfortable. Warm. Full of silk and mirrors and idiots who’ll praise her every word. But make sure it’s as far from this citadel as possible.”

Tanya’s mouth parted slightly, the first crack in her perfect composure.