Luna's New Royal Bond

The scent of burning parchment hit me before I even pushed open the door to Griffin's diplomatic office. My heart quickened—something was wrong. I'd spent weeks securing those rare treaties from the Northern Packs, sacrificing my grandmother's moonstone pendant to convince the elderly Alpha to part with them. Griffin had been ecstatic when I'd told him I'd found them.

"Griffin?" I called, my voice echoing through the marble hallway of the Silver Creek Pack's diplomatic wing. "I have news about those additional treaties we discussed."

The door swung open silently under my hand. The scene before me froze my blood.

Emmy Ross, her copper hair cascading over her shoulders, lounged in Griffin's leather chair—my mate's chair. Her slender fingers dangled a rolled parchment over the crackling fireplace, watching with amusement as the edges curled and blackened.

"Just a little fire to warm things up," she purred, not bothering to look at me. "These old papers make excellent kindling, don't you think?"

My eyes widened in horror as I recognized the distinctive blue seal of the Northern Alliance Treaty—one of the rarest diplomatic artifacts I'd acquired for Griffin's collection. My grandmother's pendant had been a family heirloom, passed down through generations of Morrison women, but I'd given it without hesitation for these documents.

"Stop!" I lunged forward, but it was too late. Emmy dropped the treaty into the flames with a satisfied smile, watching as centuries of diplomatic history turned to ash.

"Oh, Maci," she said, as if just noticing me. "Griffin mentioned you might stop by. How... quaint of you to keep checking on him."

I stared at the fireplace where at least five of the rare treaties were already reduced to embers. My chest tightened as I recognized the distinctive markings of the Moonstone-Silver Creek Alliance document—the very one that had cemented our packs' relationship for generations.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, my Alpha bloodline surging through me, making my voice sharper than intended.

Emmy's eyes gleamed with malicious delight. "Just making space for some more... practical decorations." She gestured to the wall where Griffin's prized diplomatic collection had once hung. Now it displayed modern art pieces and photographs of her and Griffin at various pack functions.

The door behind me opened, and Griffin's familiar scent washed over me—pine and sandalwood, now tainted with Emmy's cloying perfume.

"Maci," he said, his tone cool and distant. "I see you've met Emmy."

"Met her?" I repeated, gesturing wildly at the fireplace. "She's burning the treaties! The ones I got from Alpha Nordstrom—you know what I had to give up for those!"

Griffin's expression hardened. "I'm aware. And I've decided they're no longer necessary for my diplomatic strategy."

I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. "Not necessary? Griffin, these are historical artifacts! They've been in the Northern Alliance for centuries!"

"Exactly my point," he said, moving to stand beside Emmy, his hand resting possessively on her shoulder. "They're relics of the past. Emmy has shown me a more modern approach