Isla’s POV
They wheeled me back inside after the stone.
After the blood.After the humiliation.
My thighs were numb, but fire still crawled up my back. I couldn’t tell if it was the rain, the pain, or the memory of my mother’s ashes—
scattered like nothing.Like dirt.
Like I never mattered.
The Omegas said nothing. Just rolled me into the servants’ quarters like a sack of bones.
That was fine.Let them think I was finished.
Let them believe I was blind and broken.
They didn’t know what I’d found.They didn’t see my toe twitch beneath the blanket.They didn’t feel the heat that had returned to my blood.
So when morning came, and the orders were delivered—I was ready.
“The Alpha says she must prepare the Gathering feast,” a servant whispered.I was lying in bed, face to the wall.
“She must cook and serve all Alphas and their Lunas.”
“She can’t even hold a spoon,” someone muttered.
“She’ll do it,” another said. “She’ll die if she doesn’t.”
They underestimated how far I’d already died inside.
Kale appeared hours later, arms crossed, Jason standing awkwardly behind him.
“The Luna Gathering is at dusk,” Kale said sharply. “Make yourself presentable.”
I said nothing.He stepped forward, grabbed my jaw roughly. “Speak.”
“My apologies,” I whispered. “I’ll do as commanded.”
His lip curled in a cruel smile. “Good girl.”
Jason looked away. Kale walked out.
Nia entered next.Perfume thick as syrup. Robes of red and gold.Smiling like a crowned cobra.
“Oh cousin,” she purred. “I hear you’re cooking. So noble of you. But if you poison the stew, we’ll make Caius flog you next.”
I didn’t reply.Not even when she pulled at my hair roughly, twisting it into a bun that pulled my scalp raw.
“You’ll serve wine. You’ll pour it in silence. You’ll scrape bones from the floor when the feast ends.”
She leaned close.
“And don’t look at the Alphas. They don’t want to see your cursed face.”
I smiled gently, the way the blind might.
“I’ll serve my Pack. As Luna.”
Her smile slipped.She stormed out.
…
They dressed me like a forgotten widow.
Pale gray dress. No shoes. No makeup. No jewelry.Hair scraped back like I was already buried.
The Pack House gleamed.Tables stretched across the dining hall. Silverware polished. Candles lit.
Laughter echoed like thunder.
Alphas and their Lunas, Beta couples, warriors from neighboring regions.The elite. The power-hungry.And me.A crippled Luna with a ladle and a broken back.
I rolled into the hall alone, a tray on my lap.
Soup. Roasted meat. Honeyed bread.
The room hushed.Whispers began.
“That’s her?”
“She looks dead.”
“She served rogues and lost her womb.”
“Why is she even here?”
I kept my eyes down.Let the tears sting silently.
Let the shame soak through my bones.
Kale sat at the head. Nia beside him. Caius on her lap like a little crowned prince.She kissed his forehead, whispering sweet nothings while glaring at me.
“Bread to Alpha Desmond first!” she barked as I reached for the wrong plate.
“Yes, my apologies.”
I changed course. Slowly. Blindly.
I heard him before I saw him.
A deep, cool voice that sliced through the noise like a blade.
“She’s still Luna, isn’t she? Show some respect.”
The room stilled.Forks froze mid-air. Nia’s giggle died in her throat. Even Kale glanced up.
I lifted my head slightly, just enough to glance through my lashes.
A stranger stood in the doorway. Tall. Broad shoulders cloaked in a charcoal coat. Dark hair swept back. And eyes—gods—silver like moonlight on a blade.
Alpha… someone.I didn’t recognize him. But he stared at me like he could see past my blank gaze. Past my silence. Straight into the bones of my fury.
I lowered my eyes again and resumed wheeling forward, inch by inch, toward the long table with the heavy tray balanced across my lap.
Until—Nia stuck out her foot.Just a little. Just enough.My wheel caught.The tray jolted.
And everything—crashed.
Plates shattered.Soup splashed.Bread hit the marble floor with a wet thud.
And I—I fell.Face-first. Onto the cold, polished stone.
Hot lamb broth soaked through my tunic. Something sharp sliced my palm. My cheek pressed into crumbs and soup and shame.
The gasps came first.Then the laughter.
Snickering. Snorting.
“Clumsy bitch.”
“She’s always been cursed.”
“Probably wanted to serve a rogue banquet—”
Howls of laughter. Silverware clattered,I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t—
A hand. Large. Warm. Calloused. Slipped under my arm.
The stranger lifted me like I weighed nothing, placing me gently back in the chair with a strength that didn’t show off — it just was.
Then he turned.His voice was ice.
“You should all be ashamed. She is still Luna. For one more day. You owe her that.”
Silence.Even Kale said nothing.
He didn’t protest. Didn’t defend me either.
The man wheeled me out himself.Through the heavy doors. Into the quiet corridor.
He stopped when we were alone, and leaned slightly toward me.
“You can stop pretending now, Isy.”
My breath caught.I jerked my head up.
And stared, it was Rick.Older. Stronger. Taller. But still him.Still that crooked half-smile, and those storm-silver eyes I thought I’d never see again.
“You… You’re early .”
His smile faded. “And I’ve come to take you away.”
Tears burned my lashes. “It’s not time.”
His jaw tensed. “I know. But watching them treat you like this—” He exhaled sharply, like he might go back in there and tear Kale’s head off.
“I need to finish it,” I whispered.
He nodded once. “One more night,” he said softly. “Then I burn this place to ash.”
He lifted my hand and kissed it.And like smoke, he vanished into the shadows.
I wheeled myself back, alone.This time, I didn’t go into the hall.I went to the kitchen.
Peeling potatoes until my knuckles split.
Stirring broth until my arms shook.
Kneading dough while the musicians played and Nia spun in her lavender dress and Caius told lies with syrupy charm.
They laughed.But they didn’t know, that I will become the owner of their pack in one day time ,they didn’t know my legs were healing.
Didn’t know the last true Luna had her claws again.I scraped trays. I swept crumbs.
And when the floor was clean and the ovens went cold, I slipped into the pantry.
There, from beneath a hidden flap in the crate of flour, I pulled out a scroll sealed with a sigil made of silver wax and moonstone ash.
The Lunaris Scroll.My final claim, and my letter severing me and my identity from this Pack erasing everything about me,making me a Rogue.
It had to be filed at the High Commission before the bond was severed—or all claims to Luna status would dissolve at midnight tomorrow.
But I couldn’t walk into the central tower.
Not like this.I touched the tiny bronze bell beside the scroll.Within seconds, the raven arrived.
Jet black, with shimmering feathers and moonfire eyes. The crest of Wolfram’s messenger birds glimmered under its throat—a magical courier trained to travel between packs and commissions.
“Take this to the Commission in Ashford,” I whispered. “Luna Isla of Wolfram. It must be logged before sunset tomorrow.”
The bird dipped its head.And vanished into the wind.I sat in the hallway long after.
Shaking. Trembling. But smiling.Because they thought they’d broken me.
But in truth—They’d only given me time.
One more day, and my claws would no longer be bound.
The contract would break, and with it my revenge then I wouldn’t weep.The Pack would.
Because I would make it rain fire.
