The Luna He Sacrificed

Freya’s knees hit the cold stone floor hard enough to bruise.

Nobody cared.

The entire pack hall was silent except for the rain hammering against the high windows and the sound of whispers moving through the crowd like snakes.

“She really did it?”

“I heard three wolves died.”

“Alpha Logan trusted her for years…”

Freya looked up sharply. “I didn’t poison anyone.”

Her voice cracked halfway through.

No one answered.

At the center of the hall, Logan sat on the Alpha throne in black ceremonial clothing, one hand resting against the armrest while the elders stood behind him.

He wouldn’t even look at her.

That hurt more than the chains around her wrists.

“Logan,” she whispered. “Please.”

The guard behind her shoved her shoulder. “Address him properly.”

Freya almost laughed at that.

Properly?

After everything?

After sharing his bed for three years?

After waking up beside him every morning?

After planning the future of this pack together?

Still, she swallowed the bitterness.

“Alpha Logan,” she corrected softly. “You stay with me. You can prove that I didn’t kill our pack members.”

Finally, he looked at her.

Cold. Controlled. Unreadable.

Not her Logan.

Not the man who once kissed her forehead and promised:

You’ll always be safe with me.

“The evidence says otherwise,” he said flatly.

Freya stared at him in disbelief. “Evidence?”

An elder stepped forward and threw a silver flask onto the floor in front of her.

“The poison was found in your chambers.”

“I’ve never seen that before.”

“The servant testified against you.”

“She’s lying!”

More whispers spread across the room.

Freya’s heartbeat became uneven.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Someone had planned this.

She turned back to Logan desperately. “You can smell lies. You’re an Alpha. Look at me and tell me you believe I’d do this.”

For a second—

just one second—

his jaw tightened.

Freya saw it.

Saw the hesitation.

Hope exploded painfully inside her chest.

But then a woman’s voice broke through the room.

“She’s manipulating you again.”

Freya turned sharply.

Selena.

The Beta’s daughter walked slowly toward the throne dressed in white, looking almost fragile beneath the torchlight.

Freya hated how innocent she looked.

Selena lowered her eyes sadly. “Three wolves are dead, Logan.”

Logan.

Not Alpha Logan.

Just Logan.

Freya noticed that immediately.

“So now you’re standing beside her?” Freya asked quietly.

Selena looked wounded. “Freya—”

“Stop pretending.”

“Enough,” Logan said sharply.

The entire hall went silent again.

Freya looked back at him.

“You used to know me.”

His expression didn’t change.

“That was before innocent people died.”

Her chest tightened so badly she could barely breathe.

“No.” She shook her head quickly. “No, you know that. Someone set me up.”

“And who would do that?” an elder demanded.

Freya opened her mouth—

then froze.

Because she didn’t know.

That was the terrifying part.

Someone inside the pack hated her enough to destroy her completely.

Logan rose from the throne slowly.

Every wolf in the room lowered their heads immediately.

Freya’s breath caught.

Whenever he stood like that—straight-backed, dominant, overwhelming—her wolf usually calmed instantly.

But today?

Today he looked like a stranger.

“Freya Hale,” Logan said coldly, “you stand accused of treason against this pack.”

Her stomach dropped.

Treason.

Not murder.

Treason was worse.

It meant betrayal.

“I didn’t do this,” she whispered again.

Logan descended the steps toward her.

The bond between them pulsed violently the closer he got.

Pain shot through her chest.

He stopped only inches away.

“You were given every opportunity to tell the truth.”

“I AM telling the truth!”

Her voice echoed through the hall.

Nobody moved.

Logan stared at her for a long moment before speaking quietly.

“That’s your final answer?”

Freya blinked.

Something about the question felt wrong.

Like he was giving her one last chance.

One last chance to confess to something she didn’t do.

Tears burned her eyes.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Because you’re my witness. You know I didn’t do it.”

Silence.

Then Logan stepped back.

The distance felt like a knife.

“As Alpha,” he announced, his voice carrying through the hall, “I strip Freya Hale of her Luna title effective immediately.”

The room erupted.

Freya stopped breathing.

No.

“Logan—”

“You will not address me by name again.”

The words hit harder than a slap.

Her wolf whimpered inside her.

The bond shook violently.

Every werewolf in the room could feel it.

Breaking.

Not fully. But cracking.

Freya’s hands trembled. “Please…”

Logan refused to look at her.

“You are hereby exiled from Black River Pack territory.”

Gasps spread instantly.

Even the elders looked surprised.

One of them stepped closer carefully. “Alpha… exile may be excessive—”

“She should be executed,” Selena whispered.

Freya looked at her in horror.

Selena lowered her gaze immediately, pretending fear.

“I-I only meant…”

Coward.

Manipulative coward.

Logan’s face darkened slightly before he spoke again.

“Execution would be mercy.”

Freya felt something inside her shatter.

“For your crimes,” he continued, “you will be sent to Forbidden Mountain.”

The hall went dead silent.

Someone near the back muttered:

“Goddess help her…”

Freya stared at Logan like she didn’t recognize him anymore.

Forbidden Mountain?

Nobody survived there.

Nobody.

That place wasn’t exile.

It was a death sentence.

“You can’t mean that,” she whispered.

Logan finally met her eyes again.

There was no warmth left in them.

“Take her away.”

Two guards grabbed her arms immediately.

Panic exploded through her chest.

“Logan wait—please wait!”

She struggled hard enough for the chains to cut into her skin.

“You know the truth!”

No response.

Tears streamed down her face now.

“You said I was your mate!”

Still nothing.

The guards dragged her backward across the floor while pack members watched silently.

Some looked guilty.

Some satisfied.

Most just looked relieved it wasn’t them.

Freya kept staring at Logan.

Waiting. Begging.

Praying he would stop this.

That he would realize he was making a mistake.

At the last second—

his fingers twitched.

That was all.

The doors slammed shut behind her.

And just like that—

Freya lost everything.