He Chose the Fake Luna, So I Destroyed His Pack

Chapter 2

"You proposed to her."

The words were quiet, but they cut through the thick, mahogany-scented air of the Alpha's private study like a blade.

Julian Cross looked up from his oak desk, an annoyed crease forming between his perfect brows. He had barely been in his office for ten minutes, seeking a brief respite from the post-engagement celebrations, when Freya had walked in.

She looked like a ghost. Her skin was deathly pale, and she was wearing a loose gray sweater that barely concealed the bulky medical bandages wrapped tightly around her torso. She had stitched herself up in the servant's infirmary, refusing the strong painkillers so she could keep her mind sharp.

"Good morning to you too, Freya," Julian said, leaning back in his leather chair and crossing his arms. "I see you survived the rogue attack."

"Three rogues, Julian," Freya said, her voice devoid of emotion as she stepped further into the room. "Armed with silver. I nearly died on the border, and you were slipping a diamond onto my stepsister's finger."

Julian sighed, rubbing his temples as if she were a toddler throwing a tantrum. "We are not doing this today. I explained this to you a hundred times. Maya is fragile. She lacks wolf-magic. She needs the public adoration and the title of Luna to feel secure in this pack. It's a strategic move to solidify my political standing."

"Strategic?" Freya repeated, stepping up to the desk. She placed her hands flat on the polished wood, leaning in. "You gave her the Luna ring. The heirloom that belongs to your true mate. You stood in front of the entire pack and credited her for the peace that I built with my blood and my shadows."

"Keep your voice down," Julian hissed, glancing nervously toward the heavy oak door. "Are you really this insecure? You are my Shadow-Seer. You are my true power. A title doesn't change the fact that we are mated. You don't need a sparkly ring to know your worth to me."

"My wolf is dying, Julian," Freya said, the coldness in her tone finally cracking to reveal a sliver of genuine disbelief. "She went dormant this morning from the silver poisoning. And you haven't even asked where I'm hurt."

Julian stood up, flattening his suit jacket with an arrogant flick of his wrists. "You are overreacting, as usual. You're the strongest wolf I know; you'll heal. Stop being melodramatic and let Maya have her moment. When the dust settles, things will go back to normal. You’ll manage the wards, I’ll manage the pack, and Maya will smile for the cameras."

"Normal," Freya whispered, standing up straight. She looked at Julian, truly looked at him, and wondered how she had ever thought his arrogance was a sign of strength. He wasn't strong. He was just entitled, perfectly content to drain her magic to keep his hands clean.

"Yes, normal," Julian said, walking around the desk to pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. Freya rigidly stepped out of his reach. Julian frowned but let his hand drop. "Now, go rest. Maya is moving some of her things into the Alpha wing today, and I don't want you two clashing."

Freya turned on her heel and walked out of the study without another word.

As she stepped into the hallway, she caught a glimpse of blonde hair darting behind a marble pillar. Maya. Her stepsister had been eavesdropping. Freya didn't bother calling her out; she simply ignored the coward and made her way toward the back of the estate.

She needed to breathe. She needed the one place in Ironcrest that truly belonged to her.

The glass greenhouse sat at the edge of the woods, a shimmering sanctuary filled with lush greenery and blooming flora. But in the center, carefully cultivated under specialized UV lamps, were the Moon-Orchids. They were rare, glowing with a soft, bioluminescent blue light. They were the last seeds her mother had given her before she passed away.

Freya stepped inside, the warm, humid air immediately soothing her aching lungs. She walked over to the orchids, gently tracing the glowing petals with a trembling finger. For a moment, the heavy burden of her hidden life lifted.

The door to the greenhouse banged open.

Freya didn't turn around. She could smell the cloying scent of vanilla perfume and desperation.

"They're ugly, you know," Maya’s breathy voice echoed through the glass walls. "These stupid flowers. They don't even match the aesthetic of the estate."

"Get out, Maya," Freya said softly, keeping her eyes on the orchids.

Maya strutted down the aisle, her brand-new diamond ring catching the sunlight and casting obnoxious prisms across the glass walls. She stopped a few feet away, crossing her arms and smirking.

"You're very rude to your future Luna," Maya taunted, her eyes flashing with malicious glee. "I heard you whining to Julian in his office. Did you really think he would choose you? Look at you, Freya. You're a weapon. A freak who plays with shadows. Julian doesn't want a monster standing beside him at galas. He wants me."

"He wants your compliance," Freya corrected, finally turning to face her stepsister. "He wants a pretty doll who won't question his authority while I do all the actual work. You haven't won anything, Maya. You're just a shield he's using to protect his ego."

Maya's face flushed an ugly shade of red. Her insecurity was a gaping wound, and Freya had just poured salt directly into it.

"Shut up!" Maya shrieked, stepping forward. "Julian loves me! He said I can redecorate the entire estate. I think I want a sunroom here. This dirty little weed-shack has to go."

Maya reached out and shoved the heavy iron brazier that held the magical heat-coils keeping the greenhouse warm.

"Maya, don't!" Freya lunged forward, ignoring the screaming agony in her stitched ribs.

But it was too late. The iron brazier tipped over, crashing into the wooden table holding the Moon-Orchids. The magical coils shattered, sparking violently against the dry fertilizer and the wooden planks.

Within seconds, a wall of unnatural, magical fire erupted, completely engulfing the center table.

"No!" Freya screamed, throwing her hands up to summon her shadows to smother the flames. But her magic sputtered and died, her wolf too weak from the silver to answer her call.

The fire spread with terrifying speed, licking up the glass walls and turning the beautiful blue orchids into black, curling ash.

"Oh my god!" Maya shrieked, stumbling backward as the heat intensified. She intentionally tripped over a watering can, falling to the floor and scraping her palms. "Julian! Julian, help!"

The greenhouse doors burst open again, and Julian rushed in, flanked by two pack warriors.

"Maya!" Julian roared, ignoring the blazing inferno as he ran straight to Maya, pulling her up from the floor. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

"She pushed me!" Maya sobbed, burying her face in Julian’s chest and pointing a trembling finger at Freya. "I just came to tell her how sorry I was about her injuries, and she went crazy! She pushed me into the heater, Julian! She tried to burn me!"

Freya ignored them both. She fell to her knees in front of the burning table, frantically trying to bat out the flames with her bare hands, ignoring the blistering heat.

"My mother's orchids," Freya choked out, coughing as the thick black smoke filled the air. "Julian, help me! The water wards, activate them!"

Julian glared at Freya, his eyes flashing with Alpha command. "Freya, stop it! Leave them!"

"They're burning!" she screamed, her voice cracking as the last glowing blue petal withered into ash.

Julian grabbed Freya by the back of her sweater and hauled her roughly to her feet, dragging her away from the fire as the warriors grabbed fire extinguishers to put out the blaze.

"Are you insane?" Julian yelled, shaking Freya. "You could have burned Maya alive! Over what? Some stupid plants?"

Freya stared at him, her hands covered in soot and burns, her heart turning entirely to ice. "They were my mother's. They were the only thing I had left of her."

Julian rolled his eyes, his expression twisting in disgust. "They were just weeds, Freya. I'll buy you a hundred more from the florist tomorrow. Stop acting like a dramatic child and apologize to your sister."

Freya looked past Julian's shoulder. Maya was peering out from behind his back, a triumphant, wicked smirk playing on her lips. She mouthed the word *'Mine'* before burying her face back into Julian's shoulder and letting out a fake, trembling sob.

"I'm taking Maya to the infirmary to check her for burns," Julian snapped, wrapping a protective arm around his newly minted fiancée. "You stay here and clean up this mess. I am severely disappointed in you, Freya."

Julian turned and walked away, guiding Maya out of the ruined greenhouse.

Freya stood alone in the center of the wreckage. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burnt earth and dead magic. She looked down at the pile of gray ash that used to be her mother's legacy.

She didn't shed a single tear. Her grief had been entirely incinerated, leaving behind a vast, empty void that was rapidly filling with something much more dangerous.

Freya wiped the soot from her hands onto her jeans. She closed her eyes and began to mentally access the Ironcrest pack's mainframe.

*The Cayman offshore accounts. The secondary magical wards tied to my blood. The treaties with the southern packs that I negotiated under Julian's name.*

She opened her eyes, staring at the door Julian had just walked through.

*Fourteen days,* she calculated silently. *If I dismantle the financial security nets first, and slowly bleed out the elemental wards... it will take exactly fourteen days to completely and utterly bankrupt the Ironcrest Pack.*