Maya's POV

It started with the children. I was scrubbing the floors in the main hall when I heard the first mother crying. Sarah Martinez, one of the pack's beta wives, was carrying her five-year-old son Tommy, the same boy who'd been putting silver in my food and he was burning with fever, his small body limp in her arms.

"Please," she begged Dr. Harrison as he examined the child in the medical wing. "He was fine yesterday morning, playing in the gardens. Now he won't eat, won't ...