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Died as His Luna, Returned as His Nightmare Novel Cover

Died as His Luna, Returned as His Nightmare

As Luna of her pack, Elara Gardner believed in her mate—until Alpha Hardin chose to trust her best friend Estella's poisonous lies. Framed with wolfsbane and a faked miscarriage, Elara was publicly rejected, stripped of her title, and left to die alone in a freezing hovel. Her inner wolf fell silent, and she perished clutching a wooden wolf carved for the child she would never hold. But the Moon Goddess had other plans. A full year later, Elara wakes in the body of Kaitlin Padilla, a frail, wolfless noble girl. When a royal messenger forces her to attend Alpha Hardin's new mate selection, she accepts with a chilling smile. She is coming for them both—and she will take back everything they stole.
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Chapter 3

Kaitlin's POV: 

"Kaitlin."

My father, Lord Victor Padilla, didn't bother with pleasantries. I stood before his massive oak desk, the stifling scent of old parchment and his palpable disappointment thick in the air. He didn't ask how I was feeling after nearly drowning three days ago. Instead, his gaze raked over me like a merchant weighing a piece of damaged goods, calculating my remaining value now that I hadn't inconveniently died.

"You are eighteen," he stated, his tone clipped and entirely devoid of paternal warmth. "It is time you contributed to this family."

My physical heart—this new, frustratingly weak organ—gave a pathetic, nervous flutter. But the soul inside was Elara's, cold and steady.

"The Alpha is holding a selection for his new mate," he continued, his voice flat. "I have submitted your name. You will go to the Alpha's Court."

Hardin.

The name echoed in my skull like a death knell. He was looking for a new Luna. A new mate to replace the one he had murdered.

A hysterical, blood-chilling laugh bubbled up in my chest, but I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste copper, forcing it down. Hardin's court. The very viper's nest where I had been betrayed and condemned. It was exactly where I needed to be, the perfect stage for my vengeance, but I couldn't let this calculating man see a fraction of my dark joy.

I immediately lowered my head, letting my dark hair fall forward to hide my eyes. I forced my frail shoulders to tremble, playing the part of the terrified, sickly daughter. "Father, please... my health," I whispered, my voice quivering. "I am not strong enough for the court. I would be so afraid."

His brow furrowed in deep irritation. "This is not a request, Kaitlin. It is an order. The Padilla name desperately needs this opportunity, and you will not ruin it with your cowardice."

This was my opening. I slowly looked up, allowing a pool of unshed tears to well in Kaitlin's wide, innocent eyes. "I can go, Father. I will do my duty. But... I have one condition."

He leaned back in his heavy leather chair, his eyes narrowing slightly. I could see the surprise registering on his face at this rare flicker of defiance from his usually docile daughter.

"Before I am... confined to the court," I whispered, letting my voice break artfully, "I wish to have the freedom to leave the manor. To see the world outside these walls, just for a little while. Please."

It was a simple, pathetic girlish request. A last taste of freedom before being locked in a gilded cage. It was perfectly believable.

I watched the cold calculation behind his eyes. To him, it must have seemed like a trivial concession to keep the merchandise compliant. As long as I ended up exactly where he wanted me, he didn't care how I spent my final days at home.

"Fine," he conceded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You have your freedom. Until the summons comes."

A small, crucial victory. I had my key.

As I stepped out of the suffocating study, I nearly collided with my stepmother, Autumn, and my younger half-sister, Antonia. Autumn's smile was already in place, as thin and sharp as a shard of glass.

"Finished with your chat, Kaitlin?" Autumn purred, her eyes darting over my face. "You look surprisingly pleased. It must be good news."

Antonia, dripping in gaudy, tasteless jewelry that made my former Luna sensibilities cringe, eyed me with open, venomous jealousy. "I hear my dear sister is off to the Alpha's Court. What an absolute honor for us all," she sneered, her tone pure acid.

I didn't flinch. I simply looked past them, my face a mask of serene indifference, and continued down the hall. To a girl like Antonia, being ignored was a far greater insult than any sharp retort.

"Kaitlin!" Autumn's voice snapped, stopping me in my tracks. She glided over, her manicured hand landing heavily on my arm in a sickening show of false affection. "Tonight is the Blossom Moon Festival in the town square. Since you're suddenly so eager to be out and about, you should take Antonia with you. A wonderful chance for you sisters to bond before you leave us."

It was a blatant trap. They wanted to use my newly won privilege to parade Antonia in front of eligible, high-ranking wolves, hoping she would catch an eye while I faded into the background.

But a trap could easily be turned into a tool. I desperately needed a loud, obnoxious distraction to slip away unnoticed tonight. Antonia was the perfect bait.

I turned back to them, forcing a small, fragile smile onto my lips. "Of course, Stepmother. I would be delighted to take my sister."

I watched Antonia's chin lift in smug triumph, her eyes gleaming as if she had just outsmarted me. Autumn's smile widened, clearly convinced I was still the same pliable, foolish girl I had been three days ago.

They had absolutely no idea what kind of monster had woken up in this house.

Later that evening, as my maid Willow helped me fasten my simple, dark cloak, her brow was furrowed with genuine worry.

"Miss, are you sure about taking her?" Willow whispered, glancing nervously toward the door. "She'll only make you miserable."

I reached out and gently patted Willow's hand, my voice dropping to a low, steady murmur. "Don't worry, Willow. I just need her to cause a distraction."

In the carriage ride to the town square, Antonia chattered endlessly, her shrill voice filling the small space as she listed the wealthy lords she hoped to meet and the extravagant dresses she planned to wear when she inevitably visited the court.

I leaned my head against the window, closing my eyes and feigning a severe headache. While she babbled about petty social climbing, my mind was a map of cold, calculated strategy, planning my exact route through the festival crowds.

Outside, the vibrant festival lights began to beckon through the glass.

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