The moon hung like a bloody scythe over the Silvermoon Pack's ceremonial grounds, its crimson glow mocking the agony clawing through my veins. I, Selena Holland, stood before the altar, my white gown stained with the sweat of betrayal, as Alpha Anakin Nunez-my fated mate-locked eyes with me, his golden gaze turning to ice.

"You think you're worthy, Selena? A weak-blooded orphan daring to claim the Luna's throne?" His voice slithered through the crowd like venom, low and guttural, fangs glinting in the firelight. "I reject you. Utterly. Completely. May the bond rot in your soul until it devours you from within."

Gasps rippled through the pack-Araceli Cantu clutching her dagger, Mya Swanson's eyes narrowing in silent fury-but the pain hit me like silver bullets, searing my womb where our secret child stirred, unknown to him. He leaned closer, breath hot against my ear, whispering the words that shattered me: "If you carry my seed, I'll rip it out myself. No bastard heir will taint my legacy."

I fled into the shadows, heart pounding with suspenseful dread, vowing revenge as the beast inside me howled for blood. But secrets like mine don't stay buried-they fester, and they kill.