The Alpha’s Luna Walked Away — And Won’t Return

Aurora's POV

The guards released me at dawn. My legs trembled as I walked, my muscles stiff and sore from the night I spent curled on the dungeon floor. Every breath felt heavy. All I wanted was a bath, clean clothes, and a moment where no one would raise their voice at me.

But peace never lasted long in this place.

The moment I pushed open my bedroom door, I stopped dead.

Mirelle lounged on my bed—my bed—like it belonged to her.

She crossed her legs delicately and flashed a sugar-sweet smile.

“Oh, sis. How was the dungeon? Did they at least give you a crumb of food?” she cooed, every syllable soaked in venom.

I didn’t bother reacting.

“What are you doing here, Mirelle?”

She rose slowly, strolling around the small room like she was inspecting a peasant’s hut.

“So this is where you sleep.” Her nose wrinkled. “Tucked conveniently near the maids’ corridor. Suits you, I guess.”

I kept my tone steady. “Alaric didn’t choose this room for me.”

She paused.

“I picked it myself,” I added. “He offered me the room beside his, remember? But I didn’t feel like listening to you two tearing up the Alpha’s chamber every night. You enjoy that room—you’ve already made yourself at home in it.”

Her expression soured instantly.

She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a taunting whisper.

“Doesn’t it just… burn? Knowing he comes to me now? That he holds me, claims me, touches me in ways he never wanted you?”

I actually laughed—short, sharp, unrestrained. Her eyes widened, thrown off.

“What’s so funny?” she snapped.

“You,” I answered simply. “You honestly think I still care about that man? Mirelle, please. I’m done groveling for someone who never chose me. You want him? He’s yours. Every broken piece.”

Her jaw clenched. There it was—the anger she hid behind her girlish smiles.

“Don’t pretend you never cared,” she spat. “You always wanted him. But he chose me. Everyone believes me. No one believes you.”

“Then celebrate.” I shrugged. “Enjoy the lies. Enjoy the attention. I hope they keep you warm at night.”

Her expression twisted into something ugly.

“You think this ends here?” she hissed. “I haven’t even started with you.”

Before I could react, she snatched a glass from the nightstand and hurled it at me. I ducked, the shards exploding against the wall, glass flying like tiny razors.

“What is wrong with you?!” I shouted, stepping back.

She only grinned—wide, unhinged.

“You should suffer,” she murmured. “It’s what you’re good at.”

Then, with a chilling calmness, she picked up one of the largest shards on the floor and dragged it across her own palm. Blood poured down her wrist.

She screamed.

“Help! She attacked me! Help!”

My mind froze. “Mirelle—what the hell are you doing?!”

The door burst open so hard it slammed into the wall. Alaric stormed in, his whole body stiff with fury. His gaze jumped from the blood on Mirelle’s hand to me standing near the broken glass.

“Alpha,” Mirelle whimpered, tears spilling, “she—I tried to talk to her, and she snapped. She grabbed the glass—she hurt me, I swear—”

“That is NOT what happened!” I protested. “She threw the glass at me—she cut her own—”

I didn’t even finish before pain exploded across my cheek.

Alaric had struck me.

“You’ve crossed the line,” he snarled, shaking with fury. “How dare you raise your hand against your sister?”

I staggered, the room spinning.

“You didn’t even ask,” I whispered. “You just believed her.”

“I gave you warnings,” he barked. “And you ignored each one. Guards! Bring silver restraints. Let her understand what betrayal feels like.”

Tears burned my eyes—not because of the pain—but because of the certainty:

He truly hated me.

The guards dragged me away, chaining my wrists with silver. The metal scorched instantly, biting into my skin. My wolf whimpered, recoiling, too weak to fight back.

Everything blurred into hours of burning, throbbing pain.

Pain so deep I didn’t realize something was wrong until it was too late.

A sudden, violent ache tore through my stomach. I doubled over, screaming—this time not in anger, but in terror. The agony climbed up my spine, crashed through my hips, and I collapsed, unable to breathe.

I begged for help.

No one came.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

---

When I woke, I was lying on a healer’s cot, wrapped in blankets. The scent of herbs hung in the air.

The healer’s face was solemn, grief-stricken.

“The Alpha ordered you released from the dungeon,” she said quietly. “They brought you here when you didn’t wake.”

Her voice trembled.

“I did everything I could, Luna. I truly tried. But your body… your wolf… they were too weak. The pup didn’t survive.”

The world dropped out beneath me.

A pup?

My pup?

I didn’t know. I didn’t feel it. My wolf had been so silent, so drained, I hadn’t sensed a thing.

Something shattered inside me. Something no one would ever repair.

“Does Alaric know?” I asked hoarsely.

“I haven’t told him,” she admitted. “If he finds out I failed, he might—”

She couldn’t finish.

“I’ll tell him,” I said. My voice sounded distant, hollow. “It’s my burden.”

She placed a tiny wooden box in my hands. It was small. Too small.

I didn’t cry.

I couldn’t.

---

Alaric arrived minutes later. His face was tight with guilt, eyes flicking to the bandages on my wrists.

“Kris… I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize I’d hurt you that badly. I didn’t want to—”

“I’m alive,” I cut in, emotionless. “Does that disappoint you?”

Shock flickered across his face.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he insisted. “I just wanted you to stop attacking Mirelle—”

“I never touched her,” I said. “But believe whatever makes you sleep at night.”

I walked past him, the box pressed against my chest. He called after me, but I didn’t look back.

“What’s that? Aurora—Kris!”

I ignored him.

I returned to my room, packed only what I needed, and took one last sweeping look at the place I once prayed would feel like home.

It never did.

I made my way to the riverbank. The water flowed quietly—uncaring, constant.

One by one, I emptied my suitcase. Letters. Little gifts. Things I once treasured.

Things that meant nothing now.

I watched the suitcase slip into the water, sinking slowly until it vanished into the dark.

My phone buzzed. Alaric’s name flashed.

I answered—not out of longing, but closure.

“Aurora! Where are you? You’re not fully healed! Listen—I know you’re angry, but I didn’t mean— I feel guilty—”

A sleek car rolled up beside me. A man stepped out and opened the door.

I lifted the phone to my ear one last time.

“I left you a birthday present, Alaric.”

“What are you talking about? Where are you? A servant said you left with luggage—are you planning to leave? Kris, just because I—”

I hung up.

And tossed the phone into the river.

As it disappeared beneath the water, the man held the car door open for me.

I climbed in without glancing back.

The car pulled away.

And I left everything—everyone—behind.