Layla
I agreed to Rovena’s terms, just so I could know where they buried Naomi. But the storm inside me didn’t fade.
Meanwhile, she was painting her nails a blinding shade of pink, lounging comfortably in what used to be my room.
Used to be. She took it after tossing out all of my belongings.
When I found out she’d tossed away the photo of me, her, and Naomi together, I snapped.
“Who told you to touch my things?” I hissed, pointing straight at her smug, arrogant face.
“Trash belongs in the bin, not in a memory box,” she replied with a sneer.
I slapped her. Hard.
She could hold Naomi’s grave over my head, but throwing away the last pieces of her…
It was like robbing the bones of someone already stripped of flesh.
“We were never cruel to you. I never treated you like this. But you—you crawled your way in like a leech, feeding off our blood.”
“Oh, spare me the melodrama,” she said, laughing bitterly. “Alpha Tristan just needed someone to please him in bed—and an heir without any defects.”
I moved to slap her again, but she grabbed my wrist mid-air.
“One more slap,” she warned, her voice dropping low, “and I’ll bury your daughter’s grave so deep, no one will ever find it.”
“Rovena, love,”
Alpha Tristan’s voice called from the hallway.
He entered a moment later, expression unreadable as his gaze landed on me.
“Is she bothering you again?” he asked flatly.
“No,” Rovena purred. “She knows her place now. Did you need something?”
“I want you to pick the flowers for the hall decoration.”
“Roses. The ones from the garden,” she said sweetly. “And I want Luna Layla to pick them.”
“Fine. I’ll send someone to watch her,” he replied, not even sparing me a glance.
Then he turned to Rovena with a voice dripping in intentional cruelty. “I want you to please me now, Rovena.”
He said it loud enough—just to cut through me.
Rovena didn’t even blink. She walked up to him and kissed him—right in front of me.
If they thought this would break me, they were wrong.
There’s nothing left to shatter.
My heart died the day Naomi did—and with the pup I never got to hold.
**
I was trimming roses to decorate the great hall when it happened.
I didn’t see Owen sneak behind me and grab a stem I hadn’t de-thorned yet.
His loud cry tore through the courtyard, drawing the attention of every omega nearby.
Then came Rovena—eyes wild, storming toward me.
“What did you do to my son, you cursed wolf?” she shrieked, slamming me into the muddy ground.
A wave of her hand, and the rose stem twisted alive, its thorns slithering around my body like venomous snakes.
“You trying to kill him like your own daughter, huh?”
The pain from the thorns was bearable—but the illusion she cast with her magic turned it into something unbearable. My skin burned, torn from the inside out.
“Please—I didn’t see him, I swear! This hurts, please!” I sobbed.
“Feel it,” Rovena spat, tightening the thorny binds. “One moment I let my guard down, and you’re at it again, Layla. What would Alpha Tristan say if he found out you hurt his heir?”
And right on cue, he arrived. Alpha Tristan. His eyes were ablaze, his claws already bared.
“Let go of her, love. I’ll punish her myself—for daring to harm my son,” he growled, his voice like thunder.
His foot slammed into my ribs before I could even catch my breath. I coughed, the taste of blood filling my mouth.
"You believe her? Again?" I croaked. "You always believe her. You never even asked what really happened."
His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. So I went on.
"Do you know why I lost our baby? Because you left me bleeding after you caught the scent of silver on me. You thought I was cursed. You didn’t even look at me when you threw me in that cell. Naomi died because I was weak. Because you left me there to rot."
His fists clenched.
“And Rovena?” I pushed further, the fire inside me refusing to dim. “She took Naomi out of the hospital when she still needed treatment. She killed her. And you let her.”
His expression faltered for a split second, something flickering in his eyes. But it didn’t last.
Rovena stepped in again, casting another whisper of her spell.
“She’s lying, my love. Just like always.”
Rovena’s tone softened as she turned to Alpha Tristan. “Don’t punish her too harshly. Owen still needs a caretaker for his birthday party.”
Alpha Tristan nodded, brushing me off like dirt beneath his boot.
**
The next day, the grand hall of Rage Willow was transformed into a lavish wonderland for Owen’s birthday.
Glittering banners, enchanted balloons, a stage with performers—all for the perfect little prince.
I stood on the sidelines, invisible as ever, dressed in muted tones, holding a tray like one of the staff.
My heart feels empty. I used to feel proud when Alpha Tristan spoiled Naomi—on her third birthday. But now, that’s all just a memory.
Rovena made a show of laughing and whispering to the guests. Her words, always loud enough to sting.
“Poor Layla. Still clinging to the title of Luna, as if it means anything anymore.”
“She’s lucky Alpha Tristan even lets her live here.”
“What Alpha would want a deaf mate? She needs to take a good look at herself.”
They thought I couldn’t hear them. I growled low, letting my fangs show—a silent warning.
“She’s gone mad too,” one of them muttered as they walked off.
Let them talk. They can say whatever they like. Their words don’t carry the weight they used to.
But Elder Geoffrey saw. He saw everything.
When the cake was brought out, and everyone gathered to sing, he sent me message, [Layla, a word. In my office. Now.]
