Rise Of The Silent Luna

Hellen’s POV

They called me Luna, but I never truly felt like one. Not when I walked beside him, not when the pack bowed their heads, not even when he whispered that I was his forever. The word tasted like a crown I couldn’t bear to wear, heavy, suffocating, and pressed too tightly against skin that never seemed strong enough to hold it.

The dream always began the same way.

The forest stretched endlessly before me, cloaked in the eerie glow of a blood-red moon. Each tree loomed like a sentinel, bark twisted into grotesque shapes that seemed alive, watching, whispering. My bare feet sank into the damp earth as I stumbled forward, lungs burning, heart hammering with fear I couldn’t name. Shadows flickered at the edges of my vision, growing larger with every desperate step I took.

And then came the howls.

Not one. Not two. A chorus wild, guttural, ancient. My pack. My curse.

The sound rattled my bones, vibrating through the marrow until I felt hollow, weak, prey instead of Luna. My body pushed harder, running from something I could never see but always felt, like icy fingers brushing the back of my neck. Ahead, the forest parted, revealing the altar. Always the altar.

A slab of gray stone slick with blood that was not my own.

And there, a hand stretched toward me. Strong. Scarred. Steady. His hand. Matt’s. The Alpha who owned me in this life, and perhaps in every life, I’d never asked for. His voice, deep and commanding, carried through the silence.

“Come to me, Hellen.”

But before I could take his hand, before my trembling fingers could graze his palm, the dream ended.

It always ended.

My eyes snapped open, dragging me back to reality with the same bone-crushing weight. My chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, as if I’d truly run miles, and my nightdress clung to my damp skin. Sweat plastered my hair to my temples, and every limb felt drained, brittle, as though even breathing cost me more than I had to give.

The fire in the hearth crackled, shadows flickering along the timber walls of the Alpha’s chamber. Heavy furs weighed down on me, a reminder of the title draped across my shoulders like those pelts: the Luna of the Blackthorn Pack.

Respected. Feared. Untouchable.

At least, that was what they expected of me.

Instead, I was the sickly bride confined to her bed, the whispered shame of the pack. The one too fragile to walk among them, too weak to bear her Alpha an heir. A Luna in name, but not in truth.

The distant howls of wolves rose beyond the open window, echoing across the valley under the half-moon sky. Once, their voices might have comforted me. Tonight, they sounded like a warning.

A knock broke the silence.

“Luna Hellen?” The voice was soft, but the sweetness clung like honey hiding poison. Laura.

My chest tightened. I tugged the fur closer around me, masking the tremor in my voice. “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and there she was. Laura. Auburn hair cascading in waves that gleamed like firelight, green eyes sharp enough to slice. She carried herself with the confidence of someone who belonged here, who believed she deserved this room more than I ever would.

She held a bowl of broth in her hands, steam curling upward in fragrant ribbons. Behind her stood the healer, a shadow draped in robes, her hood obscuring her face but not her shrewd eyes.

“You’re awake,” Laura said, her lips curving into a smile too polished to be real. She set the bowl on the table beside me. “The healer thought you should eat.”

The smell turned my stomach, but I nodded. “Thank you.” My fingers trembled as I lifted the spoon.

Laura’s hand brushed mine, lingering longer than necessary. Her skin was warm, her touch deliberate, unsettling. I looked up, but her expression revealed nothing, only that same perfect smile.

“The pack is restless,” she murmured, leaning closer. “They need to see their Luna strong. To see you stand beside the Alpha.”

Her words were silk, but beneath them was the blade.

I forced a smile, though it hurt. “I’ll get better.”

“I hope so,” she replied, her gaze sliding over me, taking in the hollows beneath my eyes, the weakness in my posture. Her voice dipped lower. “For all our sakes.”

With a graceful bow, she turned. The healer followed, silent as ever. The door shut softly behind them.

But the walls of this chamber were thin.

I set the broth aside, straining my ears. Their voices drifted through the timber, hushed but hurried.

“She grows weaker by the day,” the healer muttered.

Laura’s reply was sharper, almost gleeful. “Good. The Alpha deserves a Luna who can stand beside him. Not one who drags him down. The longer she wastes away, the easier it will be to replace her.”

Replace me?

My blood ran cold. My hands clutched the furs, nails digging into the coarse fabric as if to anchor myself. A shiver rippled down my spine, but beneath it was something else. A heat I didn’t recognize. Anger. Fear. Fire.

The hearth roared suddenly, flames surging higher, shadows stretching long across the chamber walls. The air thickened, pressing down like a storm ready to break. My vision blurred, and for the briefest heartbeat, the reflection in the iron mirror wasn’t mine.

A woman cloaked in silver light stared back. Her eyes glowed crimson, like the blood moon. Her hair streamed around her face as though caught in an unseen wind.

Power. Terrible. Beautiful. Mine.

I gasped, stumbling against the pillows. The surge coursed through me, fire and ice colliding in my veins, so potent it threatened to tear me apart from the inside.

And then it vanished, leaving only exhaustion.

Darkness dragged me under.

The last sound I heard was Laura’s laughter, echoing through the hall like the promise of my end.