I was supposed to become the Luna of the Silvermane Pack. Then my fated mate — the Alpha — looked down the line of unmated wolves, stepped past me, and took another girl's hand. In front of the whole pack. In front of her. So I did what no rejected mate is supposed to do. I didn't beg. I didn't kneel. I took the tin wolf off my collar, dropped it at his boots, and walked out of the light with my name still in my mouth. Two months later I am packless — the lowest thing on Silvermane land, where any hand may be raised against me and no one will answer for it. They are waiting for the snow to finish me. They should be more careful about what they leave lying around. Because while I was scrubbing their floors, I was counting their salt. And the pack's winter stores do not add up. Wren Ash was thrown away once. She is not going to be thrown away twice.