Luna Rejected by Alpha

The photographs lay scattered across my bed like evidence at a crime scene. Each image of Ryan with another woman felt like a silver dagger twisting deeper into my chest. I gathered them with trembling hands, tucking them into a hidden pocket I'd sewn into my ceremonial dress—the same dress I'd poured my heart into, now a silent witness to my pain.

I waited until the pack house fell silent. The grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight as I slipped from my room, a dark cloak concealing my identity. Seven years I'd lived here, believing I was home. Now the familiar corridors felt like a beautiful prison.

"Luna Sarah?" A young Delta guard's voice startled me as I reached the back entrance.

I forced a smile, steadying my voice. "Just getting some fresh air. The ceremony preparations have my nerves on edge."

He nodded sympathetically. "Would you like an escort?"

"No need," I replied, my hand already on the door. "I won't go beyond the gardens."

Another lie to add to the collection forming between my teeth.

Once outside, I moved swiftly through the shadows, avoiding the patrol routes I'd memorized over the years. The moon hung heavy and bright above—a silent witness to my betrayal and now my escape. I slipped past the territory borders, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The neutral territory of the Moonveil Pack lay an hour's run from Shadowmoon land. I pushed myself harder than I ever had, the wind whipping tears from my eyes. By the time I reached the agreed meeting place—a small clearing ringed by ancient oaks—my lungs burned and my legs trembled.

Healer Mira was already waiting, her silver hair gleaming in the moonlight. At seventy-three, she was one of the oldest and most respected healers among the packs, known for her discretion as much as her skill.

"You came," she said simply, her wise eyes taking in my disheveled appearance.

"I had no choice." My voice cracked. "He's been—"

"I know, child." She gestured for me to sit beside her on a fallen log. "Rumors travel, even to old women's ears."

"I need to disappear," I whispered, the words feeling both treasonous and liberating. "Completely. Forever."

Mira studied me, her gaze lingering on the place where my scars lay hidden beneath my clothing. "Those marks you bear for him—they're a chain, not a badge of honor."

I nodded, tears threatening again. "Can you help me?"

She reached into her worn leather bag and withdrew a small crystal vial filled with iridescent liquid. "This will slow your heartbeat to near death and mask your scent for six hours. Enough time for them to believe you're truly gone."

My fingers closed around the vial. "And the rest?"

"There's an underwater tunnel," Mira explained, her voice dropping lower. "From the base of the sacred cliffs to the far shore of the lake. Known only to the oldest healers. The current is strong, but navigable if you're prepared."

I clutched the vial tighter. "That's how I'll disappear after I jump."

"Yes. But there's one more thing you must do first." Her eyes held mine. "Those scars must go."

Three days before the ceremony, I returned to Mira's cottage deep in Moonveil territory. The small stone structure was hidden among ancient trees, protected by wards that confused the senses of any who approached without invitation.

"Remove your shirt," Mira instructed after bolting the door behind us.

I did as told, exposing the three jagged silver lines that ran from my collarbone to just below my breast—my sacrifice for Ryan during the rogue attack seven years ago.

Mira mixed herbs in a stone mortar, her movements precise and deliberate. "This will hurt more than when you received them," she warned. "Silver scars resist magical healing. They must be burned out."

I lay on her table, staring at the ceiling. "I'm ready."

The first touch of her potion felt like molten metal poured directly onto my skin. I bit down on the leather strap she'd placed between my teeth, my body arching in agony. Through tears, I watched as the first scar began to fade, the silver giving way to pink, then to unblemished skin.

"Again," I managed to gasp when the pain subsided enough for speech.

Mira's eyes showed concern. "We can wait—"

"No." I cut her off. "All of them. Now."

As the second scar began to disappear under Mira's magic, I closed my eyes and pictured Ryan's face—not as my loving Alpha, but as the man who had betrayed me, who had used wolfsbane to dull my senses while he bedded other women. With each wave of pain, my resolve hardened.

By the time the third scar faded, leaving my chest smooth and unmarked, something had changed inside me. The pain had burned away more than just silver scars—it had incinerated the last vestiges of the devoted, self-sacrificing girl I had been.

I sat up, touching the newly healed skin with wonder. "It's done."

Mira nodded, a knowing look in her ancient eyes. "Yes, child. Now the real transformation begins."