Feral Desires: Luna’s Revenge

My daughter was gone.

The words pounded in my head like a wicked, tribal drum as I shifted into my wolf form. My heart pumping with fury and terror. I had to find her. I had to find Clara.

"Search the woods! Now!" I mindlinked the warriors nearby. "The princess is in there alone!"

How could Randolf have let this happen to his daughter?

My thoughts went wild as I ran, the wind pushing through my fur. Tears of despair tore through my eyes. God, I couldn't lose her. I couldn't lose Clara.

Clara was supposed to be with her father, in our territory, under the protection of our pack. There shouldn’t have been any danger, and yet he'd managed to let this happen.

As I neared the middle of the forest, a scent hit me—familiar and sickeningly wrong. It was blood and something else. Something that didn’t belong.

Rogues.

Panic took over my thinking. I pushed forward, faster, the trees blurring around me until I reached the clearing. My heart nearly stopped as I spotted a small, lifeless body sprawled in the grass, crimson staining the earth beneath her.

"No! Clara!" I shifted back, falling to my knees beside her, my hands trembling as I touched her cold, blood-soaked skin. I pulled her close, my tears mixing with the blood on her tiny, delicate face. She was so still, so quiet, her beautiful eyes closed forever.

"Why?" I whispered, my voice broken. "Why my Clara?"

The scent lingered, sharp and distinct. Rogues had done this. I could smell it, feel it in the air, the viciousness that had stolen my daughter's life.

After what felt like hours, I forced myself to let go of her, though my heart screamed in protest. I had to bury her, give her peace. I carried Clara's body to the riverbank, the place she loved, where we’d spent countless afternoons laughing and playing. My tears fell freely as I dug the grave with my bare wolf hands.

Once she was buried, I stood over her grave, my hands balling at my sides. My daughter was gone, and someone would pay.

I heard footsteps coming behind me, and turned to see Marcel coming towards me with several warriors behind him.

"How did this happen?" I roared. "Why didn't anyone hear her scream? Why didn’t you notice rogues crossing our borders?"

Marcel bowed his head. "It was our mistake, Luna. We should have been more vigilant."

"Vigilant?" I spat the word. "My daughter is dead because of your negligence!"

He flinched, but then something in his eyes hardened. "Perhaps if you had been there, Luna, if you had been more of a mother and less of a leader, this wouldn’t have happened."

His words hit me like a slap, cutting deeper than any wound. Like his daughter Rachel, this man was nothing short of condescending.

"How dare you?" I growled, stepping closer. "You are the leader of the warriors. We trusted you with her safety, and you failed."

Marcel stared at me with a brow cocked in consternation. "And you failed her as a mother. Blame us if you must, but you were not there either."

"You will be punished for your disrespect," I growled. "And this investigation is far from over."

Marcel lowered his eyes, but I could sense the words he wanted to hurl at me. He had crossed a line, and I wouldn’t let it go.

I spent the rest of the night in the woods, retracing Clara's final steps, searching for any clue that might explain how rogues had infiltrated our territory unnoticed. My heart ached as I walked and tears blurred my vision. It was hopeless. Nothing I found would bring her back.

But I would not rest until I had justice for Clara.

Even if it meant tearing down everything in my path.

I reached the other end of the pack's territory and still found nothing. And then I caught the scent. It was a trace of something I hadn’t expected, something that made my blood run cold.

Rachel's scent.