Luna vs. Alpha's Folly

The phone slipped from my trembling fingers, clattering against the marble floor of my healing center. The sound echoed through the empty corridors like a death knell, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears.

"Dead." The word replayed in my mind, each repetition driving the knife deeper into my chest. My sister was dead.

I sank to my knees, my Luna composure crumbling as the reality crashed over me in waves. The patrol captain's words had been clinical, professional: "Rogue attack on the eastern border. One casualty. I'm sorry, Luna."

But it was the footage that destroyed me.

My hands shook as I pulled up the security feed on my tablet, the screen blurring through my tears. There it was, clear as daylight—Carmen Silva, our pack's Beta female, leading a group of rogues directly to where my sister had been gathering herbs. Not stumbling upon them by accident. Not fighting to protect pack territory. Leading them.

The betrayal cut deeper than grief. Carmen, who had sat at our dinner table. Carmen, who had sworn loyalty to our pack. Carmen, who had been my friend.

The healing center's front door burst open, and I looked up to see Malaya rushing toward me, her face streaked with tears. She dropped beside me, pulling me into her arms as we both dissolved into anguish.

"I saw the footage too," she whispered against my hair. "Liana, Carmen killed her. She led those rogues right to her."

Rage began to burn through my grief, hot and consuming. I pulled back from Malaya's embrace, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. "We have to tell Weston. He needs to see this evidence."

Malaya's expression darkened. "Do you really think he'll listen? He's been spending an awful lot of time with Carmen lately."

I stood on unsteady legs, my Luna strength beginning to reassert itself. "He's my mate. He's our Alpha. He'll demand justice for our pack."

But even as I said the words, doubt crept into my voice like poison.

---

Twenty minutes later, I stood outside Weston's office, the tablet containing the damning footage clutched in my hands. My heart hammered against my ribs as I raised my fist to knock, but the door swung open before I could make contact.

Weston stood there, tall and imposing in his perfectly pressed shirt, his dark hair slightly disheveled. His green eyes, usually warm when they looked at me, seemed distant and cold.

"Liana." His voice was flat, emotionless. "I heard about the attack."

"Weston, I need to show you something. The footage from the patrol cameras—"

"I've already reviewed the security feeds." He stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter his office. "It was a tragic accident. Rogues breached our border defenses."

I moved past him, my wolf bristling at his dismissive tone. "It wasn't an accident. Look at this." I thrust the tablet toward him, the video already queued. "Carmen led them directly to her location. This was planned,