The Luna’s revenge

The rain fell in a relentless, cold drizzle, the kind that seeps into your bones and chills you from the inside out. It was fitting weather for a funeral, even if there was no body to bury. Alessia stood at the edge of the clearing, the hem of her simple black dress soaked through and clinging to her ankles. The pack stood before her, a sea of somber faces, but their grief wasn't for her. It was for Alpha Kael, the brave leader who had fallen in a rogue attack just two days ago.

Their brave leader. Her mate.

A hollow ache throbbed in her chest, a familiar companion she'd carried for the past year. Not for the loss of Kael—she'd lost him long ago, the moment he'd looked at her with those cold, dismissive eyes—but for the life she had imagined, the love she had so desperately craved. Now, she was just the Luna, a title that felt like a costume she couldn't take off.

Beta Liam stepped forward, his voice a low rumble that carried over the sound of the rain. "Kael was a strong Alpha, a protector. His memory will live on in the strength of our pack."

Alessia kept her expression neutral, a mask of serene grief she had perfected over months of practice. Inside, a bitter laugh threatened to escape. Kael had been many things, but a protector of her wasn't one of them. He'd been a master of public appearances, charming and decisive in front of his pack, but in the privacy of their rooms, he'd been a stranger. A stranger who shared her bed but not her thoughts, her dreams, or her heart.

The ceremony was a blur of platitudes and shared sorrow. When it was finally over, the pack members approached her one by one, offering their condolences with hands on her arms and murmured words of sympathy. "We're here for you, Luna," a she-wolf named Elara said, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "If you need anything, anything at all, please just ask."

Alessia offered a small, tight smile. "Thank you, Elara. I appreciate that."

But she wouldn't ask. She had learned early on that showing weakness was a luxury she couldn't afford. Kael had made that clear. "A Luna must be strong, Alessia," he'd told her more than once, his voice devoid of warmth. "The pack feeds off your emotions. If they see you falter, they will falter too."

So she hadn't faltered. Not when he'd stopped coming home at night, his scent mingled with that of other women. Not when he'd dismissed her ideas for pack improvements with a wave of his hand. Not when he'd looked at her with that vacant expression, as if she were a piece of furniture he'd grown tired of. She had just… existed. A ghost in her own life.

Now, with him gone, she was still a ghost. But a different kind. The kind that haunts.

As the last of the pack members dispersed, heading back to the warmth of their homes, Alessia remained in the clearing, the rain plastering her hair to her face. She tilted her head back, letting the cool drops wash over her skin, washing away the scent of lies and pretense.

For the first time in a long time, she felt something other than the dull, persistent ache. It was a flicker of something else, something sharp and dangerous. It was the whisper of freedom.

But freedom was a complicated thing. With Kael gone, the pack was vulnerable. The rogues who had killed him were still out there, a threat looming over their territory. And there was the matter of leadership. An Alpha had fallen, and a new one needed to rise.

She felt a familiar presence beside her, a comforting warmth in the chill of the rain. Liam. He didn't speak, just stood with her, a silent pillar of support. He was the only one who had ever seen through her mask, the only one who had ever asked if she was okay and actually seemed to care about the answer.

"You should get out of the rain, Alessia," he said softly, his voice gentle. "You'll catch cold."

Alessia turned to face him, really looking at him for the first time that day. He was a good man, loyal and kind, with eyes the color warm whiskey. He had always been Kael's most trusted advisor, but he had never been blind to Kael's faults. He had never been blind to Alessia's pain.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I just… needed a moment."

Liam nodded, his gaze understanding. "It's a lot to process. But you're not alone in this. The pack will rally around you."

"The pack," Alessia said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her tone. "The pack loved Kael. They don't know what he was really like."

"They saw what he wanted them to see," Liam countered. "And you saw what he didn't want anyone to see. But that doesn't make your reality any less valid."

Alessia looked away, her gaze drifting to the dense forest that surrounded their territory. "What happens now, Liam? Who will be Alpha?"

Liam was quiet for a long moment, the rain drumming a steady rhythm on the leaves above them. "The council will meet in the morning. They will discuss the options."

"And what are the options?"

He hesitated, choosing his words with care. "There is a tradition, an old one. When an Alpha dies without a clear heir, the Luna can choose a new mate. A new Alpha."

Alessia's head snapped back to him, her eyes wide. "Choose? Me?"

"It's your right, Alessia. As Luna. You could lead, with a strong Alpha by your side."

The thought was absurd, laughable. Her, choosing a mate? Her, leading? She had been a puppet for so long, she wasn't sure she even remembered how to move on her own.

"I can't," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not… I'm not Kael."

"Thank the gods for that," Liam muttered, then quickly added, "Apologies, Luna. That was out of line."

A small, genuine smile touched Alessia's lips for the first time in what felt like an eternity. "No, Liam. You're right. Thank the gods for that."

The flicker of freedom she had felt earlier grew into a tiny spark. The power to choose. It was a foreign concept, a terrifying and exhilarating prospect. She could choose someone kind, someone who would respect her, someone who would see her as an equal. She could choose… Liam.

The thought was so sudden, so unexpected, it took her breath away. She looked at him, really looked at him, seeing not just the Beta, but the man. The man who had stood by her, who had offered comfort without judgment, who had seen her when she felt invisible.

But before she could entertain the thought any further, a cold dread washed over her. She remembered Kael's last words to her, spoken just hours before he had left on the patrol that would be his last. He had been angry, his eyes blazing with a fury she hadn't seen in him before.

"You think this is over, Alessia?" he had snarled, his hand gripping her arm so tightly it left a bruise. "You think you can just wait me out? This pack is mine. And you are mine. And if I can't have you, no one will."

The memory sent a shiver down her spine, the warmth of the moment with Liam replaced by a chilling fear. Kael was gone, but his words lingered, a poison in her mind. What if he wasn't just being cruel? What if he had done something? What if he had set a trap, a final act of control from beyond the grave?

"I need to go to our room," she said, her voice suddenly urgent. "I need to… I need to see if there's anything. A letter, a note."

Liam's brow furrowed with concern. "Alessia, what is it?"

"I don't know," she admitted, her heart pounding in her chest. "Just a feeling. A bad one."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and ran, her wet dress clinging to her legs as she sprinted towards the Alpha's cabin. She ignored the concerned calls of pack members she passed, her mind focused on one thing: finding out what Kael had left behind. What secrets he had taken to his grave, and what he had left for her to find.

She burst into the cabin, the familiar scent of Kael—woodsmoke and arrogance—assaulting her senses. She had always hated that smell. Now, it was a beacon, leading her to the truth. She frantically searched his desk, his drawers, his closet, her hands shaking with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

And then, she found it. Tucked away in a locked box under the bed, a box she had never known existed. Inside, was a single envelope, her name written on the front in Kael's sharp, angry scrawl.

With trembling fingers, she tore it open, her eyes scanning the words, her breath catching in her throat. It wasn't a letter of apology, or a declaration of love. It was a confession. And a threat.

He hadn't been killed by rogues. He had made a deal, a pact with a rival pack, a deal that had gone wrong. He had been planning to hand over their territory, their people, in exchange for power. And he had framed her, leaving behind a trail of evidence that pointed