Stolen Mate

Morana's poultice burned like a brand on my arm, but it kept the poison at bay—for now. I lay on the stone altar, the lunar flower's glow pulsing weakly beside me. Rylan hovered nearby, sharpening his dagger with a tension that could split bone.

"Rest," he muttered, though his eyes never left the treeline. "We move at dusk."

But rest was impossible. My mind clawed through the fog of pain, grasping for answers. *What happened after we fled? Does Kieran know the truth yet?*

Morana hobbled into the clearing, clutching a bowl of murky liquid. "Curious, little ghost? See what festers in your wake."

She flung the contents into the fire. Smoke coiled into shapes—a familiar lodge, shadows moving within. *Silvermoon.*

The vision sharpened. Kieran stood in his chamber, a shattered vial in his hand. My stolen lavender scent oozed from it, staining his fingers.

Lila's voice slithered through the smoke. "Alpha? What's wrong?"

He turned, his face a storm. "Where did you get this?"

She froze, her mask of innocence slipping for a heartbeat. "A healing tonic. Why?"

"Healing?" He thrust the vial at her. "This reeks of dark magic. Of *her*."

Lila's laugh was too bright, too quick. "Elara's poisons corrupted everything. Even your mind, it seems."

Kieran stepped closer, his growl low. "I found it hidden beneath your furs. Along with Nightshade silver."

"A trophy!" She clasped his arm, her touch desperate. "From the traitors we fought. You think I'd betray you? *Us*?"

The vision wavered as Kieran pulled away. "The scouts found tracks. Nightshade wolves deep in our territory—yet no bodies. No blood."

"You doubt me?" Tears glistened in her eyes. "After I've given *everything* to be your Luna?"

He stared at her, silent.

She pressed her palm to his chest, her voice breaking. "I love you, Kieran. But if you choose her lies over me…"

The smoke twisted, dissolving into ash. Morana cackled. "Pathetic, these wolves. All fangs, no wit."

I sat up, ignoring the dizziness. "He doesn't believe her."

"Doesn't matter," Rylan said coldly. "He's still bonded to her scent. Words won't break that."

But I'd seen it—the doubt in Kieran's eyes. The way he'd cradled the vial, as if it held a ghost.

Morana stirred her cauldron, the liquid inside bubbling black. "The Alpha's heart wavers. Use that."

"How?"

She grinned. "Restore your scent. Let him *smell* the lie."

Rylan stood abruptly. "We've wasted enough time. The ritual—*now*."

He gathered the lunar flower, Kieran's blood, Lila's stolen essence. But as he worked, his hands trembled—ever so slightly.

I reached for him. "Rylan—"

"Don't." He wouldn't look at me. "Just stay alive."

The words hung between us, unspoken but deafening.

*Stay alive.*

For him. For Kieran. For the truth.

But as Morana began her chant, the poison flared in my veins—a reminder.

Time was running out.