The Forsaken Luna was Given A Second Chance

It was the beta warrior who had discovered me first.

He had come back, but he had come back too late. Guilt must have ridden him, gnawed at his conscience until he could no longer bear it. So, he had returned early the next morning, long before the sun had fully risen.

He simply had not expected to see a bloodied ground, littered with small traces of bones, chunks of torn flesh, and the thick, nauseating stench of death.

For a moment, he froze, his breath hitching in his throat.

Red stains had soaked into the dirt, mingling with shredded fabric. His coat. The very same coat he had laid down to shield the newborn from the cold, now soaked in blood, barely recognizable beneath the horror. Small bones poked through the torn material, and his stomach lurched violently.

He had barely made it two steps before he bent over and retched. The acidic burn in his throat did nothing to chase away the terror creeping into his bones.

Wiping his mouth, he stumbled back, shaking his head in denial. He had to tell the pack. He had to tell Seram. Spinning on his heel, he had sprinted back toward the encampment, his breath ragged, his heart slamming against his ribs.

The moment he reached the encampment, he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. "Wild wolves! There were wild wolves in the territory!"

A ripple of murmurs and confusion spread through the gathered warriors. Some scoffed, others exchanged wary glances.

"Are you serious?" one of them asked, crossing his arms. "Wild wolves? In our lands?"

"That's impossible," another had chimed in. "The Moon Goddess protects this place. No feral beasts could step foot in our territory."

The beta warrior shook his head violently. "I know what I saw! There were tracks of them, claw marks, blood everywhere!"

The commotion had stirred the pack. More warriors began to gather, drawn by the raised voices. It didn't take long before Seram himself emerged, irritation flashing in his sharp gaze.

"What the hell is going on?" he barked, his eyes landing on the beta warrior. "Why are you shouting like a madman?"

The beta warrior swallowed hard. He opened his mouth to explain but immediately gagged, the gruesome images flashing in his mind again. He clenched his fists and forced the words out. "Come with me. You need to see this."

Seram's expression darkened. He didn't like being ordered, much less by a subordinate. But something in the beta's trembling hands, his wide, haunted eyes, sent a chill creeping down his spine.

"Fine," Seram snapped. "Lead the way."

The warriors, their amusement now replaced with unease, followed closely behind. A quiet tension filled the air as they approached the area, and Seram found his feet moving faster, overtaking the beta warrior.

The place they were going seemed familiar…

His instincts had screamed at him, urging him to run. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as the trees parted, revealing the place where they had punished me.

I wasn't there.

His sharp gaze swept across the area, his frustration rising.

"Where is she?" he growled, turning to the beta warrior. "Did you hide her? Did I not tell you not to untie her no matter what? Where did she go?"

The beta warrior paled, his hands shaking as he pointed toward the ground. "Th-there."

Seram's eyes followed the trembling finger.

The ground where I had hung was no longer just dirt. Fresh blood soaked the earth, dark and glistening. Shredded flesh and unidentifiable chunks of meat were scattered across the area. Pieces of bone, gnawed and broken, stuck out from the crimson mess.

His mind rejected what he was seeing. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

His chest rose and fell erratically, his claws twitching at his sides. He clenched his teeth. "Did I not say to always clean this area? Unlawful pack members are punished here, and leaving blood will cause sickness."

He glared at the beta warrior. "What? Still not telling me where she is?"

But the beta warrior, face ashen, lifted a shaking hand and pointed toward the wall of stone again near where I had once been bound. "That… It's her…"

Seram followed his gaze, and the denial crumbled.

Deep claw marks slashed through the rock, jagged and wild, as if something, or someone, had tried desperately to escape. The scent of wolves lingered in the air, thick and undeniable. He inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring.

My familiar scent still somewhat lingered despite her death.

A sharp, terrified scream shattered the silence.

Seram's head snapped toward the source of the sound. One of the warriors had stumbled back, his face ghostly pale, his arm raised, pointing at something behind them. Seram turned. There, nestled between the gnarled roots of a tree, half-hidden by the dirt and torn fabric, was a head.

My head.