Chapter 1

My mother was the proud Luna of the Blood River Pack, but she died as a breeding slave in the mud of the Rogue Territory.

From the moment I can remember, all I see is her belly.

Swollen, then empty, then swollen again.

By the time I am barely tall enough to reach the wash basin, I am already hauling water, feeding pigs, scrubbing blood out of birthing sheets.

She dies on the straw mat.

And the moment that Rogue bastard realizes he cannot squeeze another coin out of her body, his yellow eyes turn on me.

I run. I tear out of that village and onto the main road, and that is where I meet him. The father I have never seen.

His scent hits me first. Alpha. Pure-blood.

He stares at my face. His pupils shrink to slits.

Because I look exactly like her.

"I was just coming to find you," he says, voice smooth as poured whiskey.

"My mate Rose and I, we already have our daughter, our little Rosie. One pup is enough for us. But I am the Alpha. I need a son. An heir. And Rose is too delicate to go through another pregnancy. How could I let my Luna suffer like that?"

His eyes flick down my body. Bones. Bruises. Dirt.

"Your mother was always known for being a good breeder. If she gives Rose a son this time, I will bring you both back to the Pack House. What she did to Rose all those years ago, I will forgive it."

I look past him. At the woman in the carriage window, all soft curls and silk.

At the little girl in her lap, plump and pink.

A perfect Luna.

A perfect pup.

I laugh until I cry.

"Then come with me," I whisper. "Alpha."

The carriage smells like roses and old money.

Rose, Luna Rose, hands me a stack of rough beggar's linen and smiles like she is doing me a favor.

"The caravan only packed coarse clothing for the help," she sighs, stroking little Rosie's curls.

"Rosie's dresses are all imported silk. She does not like anyone else touching them."

I look up. Her eyes glitter. Triumph. Mockery.

But I am not angry. I am just stunned.

So even the beggars in the Pack House get fabric this thick?

No wonder my mother used to whisper about home like it was heaven.

Rosie peeks out from her mother's arms, fat little fingers wrapped around an amber bead. Her nails are trimmed. Pink. Healthy.

I look at my own hands. Bones. Calluses. Dirt jammed so deep under my nails it will never wash out.

"Hmph."

The Alpha's voice cuts through the carriage.

"You were supposed to grow up like her. Silk and silver, in the Pack House. But your mother was too stubborn to bow her head, and she dragged you into the wild for ten years. Now that you are back, you will treat your little sister with respect."

I lift my eyes. Crack a dry smile.

"Sister? Which number sister is she?"

His brow snaps together.

"What the hell are you talking about? You do not have other sisters."

"Sure I do." I tug the corner of my mouth higher. "Half the pups in that village are my brothers and sisters. I just need to figure out the birth order."

His face goes white. Then red.

"You little liar! Ten years gone and you have turned into your mother. Mouth full of poison!"

His eyes drag down my skeletal frame, disgust curling his lip.

"You are a daughter of Alpha Sloan. How are you this thin? And what was that rag you came in wearing? Like something dragged out of a swamp."

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I send silver to that village every single year. More than enough to keep you both fed and clothed. Where did your mother piss it all away? When I see her, I am going to have words."

I smile bitterly.

Silver?

That Rogue bastard gambled every coin away.

If my mother had not starved herself to keep me alive, the Alpha would not even have these bones to look at.

"She is already dead," I say. Light. Floating.

SLAP.

My head cracks against the carriage wall. My temple splits. Blood runs hot down my cheek.

"You wicked pup! How dare you curse your own mother!"

I turn my head slowly. Look him dead in the eye.

"She is dead."

"That Rogue thought she was taking too long to whelp. So he used a wooden rolling pin and pressed down on her belly until she burst. Her intestines came out on the floor."

A boot slams into my chest.

I fly out of the carriage door.