Chapter 3

I put the letter and the phone back exactly as they were and closed the safe.

My hands were still shaking, but my mind was perfectly clear.

I grabbed the car keys and drove to the symposium.

By the time I got there, the hall was packed. The stage lights were on, and Serena stood at the center, rows of herbal samples and a projection screen laid out in front of her. Five or six Alphas from different Packs sat in the audience, along with healers from every territory—at least a few dozen people.

She was presenting a silver poisoning antidote.

Starting from the base herbal ratios, she built it up step by step—which herbs formed the foundation, how to purify moonflower extract, what temperature range to maintain, and how to administer the dosage in stages.

I sat in the last row, and the more I listened, the more familiar it sounded.

Not "similar." Identical.

The herb ratios were mine. The purification process was mine. The staged-dosage method was mine.

Then Serena said something: "Moonflower must be harvested on the night of the new moon. Miss that window, and the potency drops by at least half."

That line doesn't appear in any textbook.

It was a conclusion I'd reached after three rounds of experiments, written only in my private notebook. I'd never told a soul.

The entire audience rose to their feet, applauding.

Several Alphas stood up on the spot and invited Serena to serve as a guest healer in their territories. Someone said this formula would revolutionize battlefield treatment across the entire werewolf world. Someone else called Serena the most promising healer of her generation.

Before the applause even died down, Serena spotted me.

She came down from the stage, walked straight toward me, grabbed my hand in front of everyone, her voice dripping with concern: "What are you doing here? Cain told me you haven't been feeling well. You drove all this way by yourself?"

I pulled my hand free.

The next second, she stumbled backward, staggered two steps, and collapsed to the ground.

The crowd erupted.

Cain appeared out of nowhere, crouched down to help Serena up, then looked up at me with a stare cold enough to cut.

"She was just worried about you. Was that really necessary?"

Serena leaned against his arm and shook her head, her voice soft and fragile: "Don't blame her. I just lost my footing."

I didn't explain.

I knew this act by heart. She'd pulled it countless times over the past three years—always the same playbook. Show kindness first, then fall, and suddenly everyone thinks I'm the problem.

The applause started up again, but this time it wasn't for the formula.

An Elder from the Alliance took the stage and announced that, in recognition of Serena's outstanding contributions to the field of healing, she would be formally awarded the title of Alliance Chief Healer Consultant.

The moment those words landed, the Elder added with a smile: "And one more piece of good news—Serena is pregnant. Alpha Logan is about to have an heir."

The whole room exploded. Cheers, whistles, clinking glasses—all blurred together.

I didn't look at Serena. I didn't look at Logan.

I looked at Cain.

He was standing at the edge of the crowd, wearing a perfectly calibrated smile of congratulation, a glass of wine in his hand. But when the Elder said "Serena is pregnant," his fingers tightened around the glass for just a fraction of a second. His smile froze for less than a heartbeat.

Too brief. No one else in the room caught it.

But I did.

I'd spent three years with this man, and never once had he shown that kind of slip over anything related to me.

Not even for a second.

On the drive back, the car was silent.

I spoke first.

"The silver poisoning formula Serena presented today is exactly the same as the research I was doing."

Cain kept his eyes on the road. Two seconds passed before he answered.

"Healing's a small field. It's normal for research to overlap."

"Even the detail about harvesting moonflower on the night of the new moon?"

"Then it means you both reached the same conclusion."

I didn't ask again.

The photos in the safe. The videos on the phone. The notes that had vanished from my study at some point. And the words that came out of Serena's mouth—words I'd only ever written down myself.

Every piece of the puzzle was in place.

I didn't need him to admit it.

Trees slid past the window. The sky was almost dark. I leaned against the glass and said it like an afterthought.

"Let's skip the island for our anniversary."

He glanced at me.

"Take me to Moonfall Lake."

"Moonfall Lake?"

"Where you first marked me." I looked at him. "Just the two of us. I want to spend a night by the lake."

Cain was quiet for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay. I'll arrange it."

He had no idea Moonfall Lake was the rendezvous point I'd arranged with the Rogues.