Sleep refused to come. Every time Athena closed her eyes, she saw flashes of the past—Gian’s furious gaze as he dragged her across the center ground, the laughter of the pack as the whip tore her skin, the choking burn in her lungs when she thought death had finally claimed her.

Her body was safe in Grayhound, lying on her narrow bed with Light and Liam curled against her sides. But her mind was trapped in Dark Moon, replaying every cruelty. She stared into the darkness until the edges of the room began to blur, her breathing shallow, her chest tight.

The Alpha’s command weighed heavy. She had no choice. She had to obey. And yet her soul rebelled, clawing for an escape.

By dawn, she had formed a plan. A fragile one, but it was all she had.

She would feign sickness.

It was simple enough—she had seen real illnesses before, treated them, studied the way fevers flushed the skin, the way weakness bent the body. If she could mimic it well enough, Beauty might report back to her brother and delay the journey. Maybe long enough for Gray to change his mind.

When the twins woke, their cheerful chatter was a cruel contrast to the storm inside her. She hugged them tighter than usual, inhaling their soft hair as though it might be the last time.

“Mommy, you’re squeezing too much,” Liam complained, wriggling.

Athena smiled faintly and let him go. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

She rose, deliberately slowing her steps, dragging her shoulders as though weighed down by exhaustion. She pressed her palm to her forehead, forcing her body into the posture of illness.

By the time Beauty appeared at her door, Athena was sitting at the table with a blanket draped around her, eyes heavy, movements sluggish.

Beauty arched a brow the moment she walked in. “What happened to you?”

“I… I don’t feel well,” Athena murmured, her voice soft, hoarse. “Maybe a fever.”

Beauty’s piercing eyes scanned her, taking in every detail—the pale skin, the blanket, the sluggish movements. For a moment, Athena thought it might be enough. Her heart quickened with fragile hope.

But then Beauty folded her arms. “Really.”

Athena nodded weakly. “I don’t think I can travel today.”

A long silence followed. Beauty’s expression didn’t soften; if anything, it sharpened. “Funny,” she said finally, “how you seemed perfectly fine yesterday. You were training harder than half the recruits. And now, suddenly, you can’t walk across the yard?”

Athena’s throat closed. “It came on overnight.”

Beauty stepped closer, crouching so their eyes were level. Her voice dropped, low and cutting. “You can fool Gray with that act. Maybe even some of the warriors. But not me. Something else is going on, Athena. And if you don’t tell me, I’ll find out on my own.”

Athena’s stomach twisted. She looked away, clutching the blanket tighter. “It’s nothing. I just… I’m worried about leaving the children.”

Beauty studied her for a long moment, then straightened. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But secrets have a way of rotting from the inside out. Don’t think you can carry them forever.”

She turned on her heel and strode out, her presence like a storm lingering even after she was gone.

Athena sank back into the chair, trembling. Beauty had seen through her too easily. She couldn’t fake sickness again—not without making herself look suspicious. She needed another plan.

The following night, after putting the twins to bed, she sat in front of a cracked mirror. Her hands trembled as she dipped the brush into the dye. Strands of her red hair turned to streaks of vivid rainbow—blue, green, gold. It was ridiculous, childish almost, but it was all she could think of.

If Gian looked at her, he couldn’t see Athena, the Omega he had disgraced. He would see someone else—anyone else. She added tinted shades to cover her eyes, practicing clumsy gestures, forcing herself to stumble across the room. She could pretend to be untrained, unpolished, nothing like the woman he remembered.

She stared at her reflection, heart hammering. Could this really work?

When morning came, Beauty raised a brow at the sight of her rainbow hair but said nothing. Perhaps she thought it was nerves, or perhaps she simply didn’t care. Either way, Athena was grateful for the silence.

The journey to Dark Moon began under a heavy sky. Warriors escorted them on horseback, their armor glinting in the pale sun. Athena rode beside Beauty, her disguise firmly in place, her head bowed beneath her shades. Every mile felt like a march to execution.

The gates of Dark Moon loomed like jagged teeth against the horizon. Athena’s hands tightened on the reins until her knuckles ached.

When they entered the courtyard, memories rushed back so fiercely that her breath caught. The dirt beneath her feet was the same dirt that had drunk her blood. The stone walls echoed faintly with the ghosts of her screams.

She forced herself to keep walking.

Inside the great hall, Alpha Gian sat upon his seat, golden hair catching the light, green eyes sharp as blades. His presence hadn’t dulled with time—if anything, it had grown more commanding, more ruthless. He was every inch the Alpha she remembered, and every inch the nightmare she had hoped never to face again.

The moment his gaze landed on her, her body betrayed her. The bond surged, a pull deep in her chest, an ache that made her knees weaken. She bit the inside of her cheek until the copper taste of blood filled her mouth, forcing herself not to react.

Gian’s eyes narrowed slightly. Something flickered across his face—confusion, recognition, desire?—before it vanished behind a mask of cold detachment.

Impossible, Athena thought. He thinks I’m dead. He can’t know.

“State your business,” Gian said, his voice like thunder rolling over stone.

Beauty stepped forward, regal even in her fury. “We come on behalf of Grayhound Pack. Your demands for our training grounds are unacceptable. We will not yield.”

The hall grew tense. Warriors shifted, murmurs rising. Gian’s lips curved into a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Athena kept her head bowed, altering her voice when Beauty nudged her to add support. “Yes, Alpha,” she said clumsily, fumbling her words. “We cannot… we cannot agree.”

Her act seemed to amuse him. His gaze lingered on her a beat too long, as though trying to solve a puzzle. But he said nothing.

The conversation heated, Beauty’s temper flaring against Gian’s arrogance. Athena’s heart raced—this was spiraling, too close to violence. She opened her mouth to intervene but was silenced by the sudden entrance of another Alpha.

Alpha Lucas.

His presence was sharp, dangerous, but his smile was mocking. He laughed at Gian, shaming him for lowering himself to quarrel with women. His words cut, and the hall erupted in murmurs.

Beauty’s hand flew before Athena could stop her. The slap rang through the chamber, sharp as a whipcrack.

Lucas only chuckled, eyes gleaming with something unsettling. “We’ll meet again,” he promised, voice low.

Athena’s pulse raced as she tugged Beauty away, desperate to escape before more damage was done. But just before they left the hall, she felt it—a pair of eyes burning into her.

She looked up.

Dennis, Gian’s Beta, stood among the warriors. His gaze locked onto hers, sharp, probing. Recognition flared there, sudden and chilling.

Her breath caught. Did he know?

She dropped her gaze instantly, hurrying after Beauty.

When they finally left Dark Moon behind, relief washed over her so strongly she nearly collapsed. She scrubbed the dye from her hair the next day, desperate to shed the disguise, to pretend none of it had happened.

But peace was short-lived.

Two days later, Dark Moon riders stormed Grayhound’s gates. Gian himself led them, his presence suffocating the courtyard as he demanded to see Alpha Gray.

Athena tried to slip away unseen, but a hand clamped around her wrist. Strong, unyielding.

Gian.

Her heart seized as his grip tightened, his green eyes burning into her.

“I need her to show me the way to your Alpha,” he said smoothly when Gray and Beauty appeared, his expression unreadable. His hand remained on her wrist, iron-strong.

Athena’s bones screamed beneath his hold, but she forced her face blank, praying he wouldn’t betray her.

Gray stepped forward, his own eyes icy. “You will not hold her like that again,” he said coldly.

“Are you her lover, then?” Gian asked casually, voice laced with poison.

“No,” Gray replied sharply, “but she is family.”

Gian’s smirk curved, cruel and knowing. “Family. Interesting.”

And in that moment, Athena knew.

He recognized her.