Chapter 2

　　Olivia's POV

　　"Second Chance?" I spat, dunking my face in the ice river. "Just to meet another backstabbing wolf?"

　　When I stood, a dark-gold wolf loomed at the cliff's edge.

　　As it leaped, my Lycan blood roared—a memory clicking into place.

　　At fifteen, I'd saved a werewolf with identical claw marks on his chest. Turns out he was the son of the Blackthorn Alpha.

　　"Wilmot?" My claws bit into my palms as the wolf shifted human.

　　The man's copper chest was a map of scars, but the crescent mark over his heart was fresh as moonlight.

　　"Long time," he said, voice smelling of pine and snow. "My turn to save you now."

　　"MATE!"

　　Five Years LaterI cradled Digby at the dining table while Omegas fussed over us.

　　I remembered how Wilmot brought me to Blackthorn, swearing oaths on bended knee.

　　"By the Moon Goddess," he'd crushed ice flowers beneath his knee, calloused palm cradling my chapped fingers, "your scars are my badges. This pup's bloodline will be guarded by Blackthorn's sharpest fangs."

　　Before the whole pack, we became mates.

　　He held Digby aloft at the altar, letting the pup's wails blend with ancient war songs.

　　Every full moon, his cedar-scented palm would steady my silver mark until Lycan restlessness melted like spring snow.

　　After tucking Digby in, I carried elk-blood soup through the corridor when the pitch torches erupted in unison.

　　Wilmot's pheromones—tinged with blood and something chillingly familiar—wafted from his study.

　　"Digby turns five next month. His heart's blood could break Jasmine's curse. Arrange the extraction with the pack doctor on his birthday."

　　The clay bowl exploded against stone. Hot blood seeped toward my boots.

　　Beta Samuel's voice slithered, "Alpha Wilmot, Luna Olivia dotes on Digby. This will break her."

　　"Jasmine's curse needs Alpha Zander's bloodline to lift. Otherwise, she dies." Wilmot stroked the crescent emblem on his sword hilt—woven from my silver hair. "As for Olivia, I'll spend a lifetime making it up to her."

　　Moonlight thickened like blood.

　　I staggered back, nearly toppling a bronze candelabra.

　　The crack of my spine splitting echoed—Lycan fury shredding Wilmot's calming mark.

　　Ice gripped my lungs. Tears hovered unshed.

　　The man I trusted to protect us forever wanted my child dead.

　　'If that's how it was, then I'd be the one leaving.'

　　Inside the study, Wilmot's tone dripped pity and resolve.

　　"Jasmine was Zander's Beta, then his Luna. Her wolf's been cursed-weak for years. The pack doc says she has less than a decade left. I can't wait any longer."

　　"Digby's the perfect match. Time's up."

　　Beta Samuel's voice wavered.

　　"Alpha Wilmot, Jasmine's Alpha Zander's Beta. Are you sure you won't regret killing your own son?"

　　"I never regret decisions. I won't stand by while Jasmine dies—not if it means bearing the blame, not at any cost."

　　"Alpha Wilmot, what about Digby?" Samuel asked.

　　A beat of silence. Then Wilmot's voice turned cold.

　　"I've raised him five years. Time to collect my dues. For Jasmine, his heart's blood is his purpose. If Olivia ever finds out and kills me... well, one life for another."

　　"Proceed. Birthday night. Clean. No loose ends."

　　"Yes, Alpha Wilmot."

　　I fled, tears erupting once out the packhouse.

　　So this was the truth—Wilmot's vows, my place as Blackthorn's Luna—it was all a lie to save Jasmine.

　　When Zander cast me out, Wilmot took me in when I had nothing left.

　　I thought he'd be our rock.

　　Instead, he'd plotted for years to betray us.

　　Every whispered promise, every "forever" was a knife.

　　I'd believed I found my destined mate, a father for my son.

　　All my illusions shattered as Wilmot's words twisted a blade in my chest.

　　I collapsed, trembling.

　　Through blurred vision, I heard his voice.

　　"Why the tears, Olivia?"