Luna Rejects Her Traitor Mate

The fifty-first healing ritual left me weaker than ever before. I lay on the ceremonial stone table in Ellis's private healing chamber, my body trembling from the aftershocks of whatever power he'd channeled through me this time. The ancient symbols carved into the walls seemed to mock me with their promise of restoration, when all I felt was a deeper hollowing of my very essence.

"The blockage in your mate bond is particularly stubborn today," Ellis murmured, his healer's voice taking on that clinical detachment I'd grown to dread. "Your wolf is fighting the healing process."

I wanted to argue, to tell him that my wolf felt more distant than ever, like a whisper behind glass that I could barely hear anymore. But the words died in my throat as another wave of nausea rolled through me. This wasn't normal. After fifty rituals, shouldn't I be getting better, not worse?

"Here, drink this." Natasha appeared at my side like she always did, her smile warm and concerned as she pressed a steaming cup into my shaking hands. "I brewed it fresh this morning with extra honey, just the way you like it."

The tea was the same blend she'd been making for months—a special mixture, she claimed, that would help my body process the healing energies more effectively. The familiar floral scent should have been comforting, but as I lifted the cup to my lips, something made me pause.

The smell. It was wrong somehow, beneath the honey and chamomile. A bitter undertone that I'd never noticed before, or maybe I'd been too weak to notice. My hand trembled as I set the cup down without drinking.

"What's wrong?" Natasha's voice sharpened just a fraction. "You need to drink it while it's hot for maximum benefit."

"I'm... I'm too nauseous right now," I whispered, pushing the cup away. "Maybe later."

Her smile flickered, so briefly I almost missed it. "Of course. Rest first."

But as Ellis helped me back to our chambers, I couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted. For the first time in months, I'd refused the tea, and for the first time in months, my mind felt clearer despite my physical weakness.

That clarity drove me to the pack library three days later, when Ellis was away on pack business and Natasha was occupied with her own duties. The ancient texts lined the walls like silent sentinels, their leather bindings worn smooth by generations of wolves seeking knowledge.

I pulled volume after volume, searching for anything about mate bond healing, about the symptoms I'd been experiencing. Most of the texts spoke of gradual improvement, of wolves growing stronger through proper healing rituals. None described the progressive weakness that had been plaguing me.

It was in a slim volume bound in midnight blue leather that I found it—a chapter on historical pack conflicts and the methods used to eliminate rival Luna candidates. My blood ran cold as I read the description: "The Moonsbane blend, when administered consistently, produces a gradual weakening of the wolf spirit, accompanied by digestive distress, blood-tinged vomiting, and eventual severance of the mate bond connection. Symptoms often intensify after healing rituals, as the wolf's natural defenses are lowered..."

The book trembled in my hands. Every symptom matched perfectly. The timing, the progression, even the way I felt worse after Ellis's healing sessions. But it couldn't be... could it?

I memorized every detail of the herb mixture described in the text—bitter nightshade root, silver leaf, and moon's tears fungus, all harvested during the waning moon for maximum potency. The combination was subtle enough to be mistaken for a healing blend by anyone not specifically looking for it.

My heart hammered as I replaced the book exactly where I'd found it. I needed proof. Real, undeniable evidence before I could even consider what this discovery meant.

Two nights later, I followed Natasha.

She left the pack house just after midnight, moving with the quiet confidence of someone who'd made this journey many times before. I stayed far enough behind that her wolf senses wouldn't detect me, using every skill my weakened state would allow.

The hidden grove lay deep in the forest, accessible only by a narrow path that seemed to disappear between the trees. Ancient oaks formed a natural circle around a clearing where moonlight filtered through the canopy, illuminating patches of unusual plants that didn't belong in our territory's natural ecosystem.

I crouched behind a massive trunk, my heart pounding so loud I was sure she'd hear it. But Natasha was focused entirely on her task, moving through the grove with practiced efficiency. She knelt beside a cluster of plants with distinctive silver-edged leaves, carefully harvesting them into a woven basket.

Moon's tears fungus grew in the shadow of a fallen log. Bitter nightshade root required more effort to extract, but she worked with the skill of someone who'd done this countless times. Each plant matched the descriptions from the ancient text perfectly.

As she prepared to leave, Natasha paused at a flat stone in the center of the clearing. From her basket, she withdrew a small mortar and pestle, beginning to grind the freshly harvested herbs with methodical precision. The bitter scent that emerged was exactly what I'd detected beneath the honey in my tea.

The woman I'd trusted, the sister-in-law who'd shown me nothing but kindness and concern, was systematically poisoning me. And she was doing it with the same careful attention to detail that she brought to everything else in her life.

I backed away from the grove on shaking legs, my mind reeling with the implications. This wasn't just about making me sick—this was about destroying my connection to my wolf, about severing my mate bond with Ellis. But why? And more terrifyingly, did Ellis know?

As I made my way back through the dark forest, one terrible certainty settled in my chest like a stone: tomorrow morning, Natasha would brew my tea with these same poisonous herbs, smile that same concerned smile, and hand me another cup of my own destruction.

And for the first time in months, I would be ready for her.