The Rise Of The Forsaken Luna

BRIANA

A faint, throbbing ache pulls me out of the darkness. My body feels heavy, but the familiar scent of home seeps into me, reminding me where I am.

"Good, you're awake, Briana."

The soft but steady voice makes me turn my head. Standing in front of me is Linda Bruce. She is carefully removing photographs from their frames, setting each one into a box as though they are priceless treasures. I watch her slender hands work, steady and precise, as if she refuses to let even one corner bend. Those pictures are the last pieces I have of my parents, and she's guarding them with care.

I part my lips to speak, but Linda cuts me off before I can form words. Her hazel eyes pin me with a determined light.

"No protests. David and I already gave up our titles in Moonveil Pack, and the house is packed. This is final."

Her words hit me like a slap, but I know she isn't the kind of wolf to change her mind once it's made up. She is alpha-blooded. Stubbornness is in her veins.

"Marcus and Drake crossed the line this time," she continues firmly. "You deserve more than this. I won't stand by while they crush everything my family worked for. Moonveil pack may carry my ancestors' name, but I won't watch it be destroyed."

I push myself upright on the couch, the motion sending a sting of pain through my chest. My eyes sweep the room, noticing the bare spaces on the walls where pictures once hung. The empty frames rest neatly beside Linda's box.

"But Marcus is your brother," I whisper, confused. "Wouldn't you want to stay, no matter what?"

Linda scoffs, the sound sharp and bitter.

"Marcus is power-hungry. The only reason he wears the title of Alpha is because Moonveil law forbids a she-wolf from ruling. Otherwise, I'd be the one leading this pack." She gives me a faint smile, one that hides too much pain to be called real.

I don't want to argue with her, not when she's one of the few who has stood beside me since everything fell apart. So instead, I ask quietly, "If you're already leaving... shouldn't you be packing?"

"We finished," she replies. "You've been unconscious for five hours. It's three in the afternoon now. David and the pups are outside, loading the trailer. I came back for you."

My head snaps toward the clock on the wall. She's right-three in the afternoon. I had woken at nine-thirty this morning, believing my life was just beginning. I thought I'd be mated soon. Thought I'd be Luna.

The memory claws through me, raw and merciless. A gasp escapes me as pain flares in my chest, spreading through every nerve. Drake rejected me. My mate. The one the goddess herself had chosen. He didn't just turn away from me-he broke me. All for an arranged bond with Laura Joss. And Marcus... Marcus threw me out, stripped me of my place in Moonveil pack, leaving me nothing but an exile.

"Shh, it's alright, Briana."

Linda kneels at my side, her hands gentle as they cup my cheeks and wipe the tears streaming down.

"I-it hurts!" My voice cracks as sobs wrack me, each breath sharp and shallow.

"I know, baby girl. It'll hurt until you or he binds to another. But right now, you need strength. Do you think you can find that strength?"

Her question burns through the haze of pain. I nod weakly, and she rewards me with a small, relieved smile.

"Good. Now, breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out."

Her calm voice pulls me back piece by piece. I match her breaths until the sharp edge of the agony dulls enough for me to steady myself.

"Listen to me," she says softly but firmly. "We have only nine hours before Marcus's wolves hunt us off Moonveil land. You can't break now. Pack what you can. Can you do this?"

The thought of leaving slices into me. Packing means saying goodbye to my parents' memories forever. But the truth is harsher-if I don't, I won't survive.

"I... I don't know," I admit, squeezing my eyes shut. My breath trembles. "But I'll try."

When I open them again, Linda is watching me with pride shining in her eyes. She ruffles my hair gently before standing.

"Good girl. I'll finish the pictures. You gather what matters most to you. We're leaving in four hours."

Her words settle over me like a command. Shaky but determined, I push myself up and make my way toward my room.

I should count myself lucky. Most wolves forced into rogue life are given an hour-if that-to pack before being chased away. I've been granted nearly a day.

Inside my bedroom, I slip into a simple sundress from my closet. My hands tremble as I throw Drake's torn, bloodied clothes into the trash. The fabric reeks of his scent, and it makes me sick. I had given myself to him fully the night we discovered we were mates, certain he'd mark me and claim me. Certain the goddess's design was enough. I was wrong.

The ache surges back, fierce and unrelenting. My knees nearly buckle, and I clutch the bed for balance. The bond between us claws at me, screaming to be healed, but it never will. Drake made sure of that. Marcus made sure of that.

Hot tears streak my face again, blurring everything. I choke on the helplessness clawing up my throat, desperate to fight it back.

I can't undo the past. I can't erase last night or take back what I gave him. I can't stop the rejection. But I can choose what happens from this moment forward.

With effort, I force myself to breathe through the torment. Slowly, the sobs quiet. Slowly, my strength returns, shaky but steady enough to stand.

Linda's words echo in my head. Push the pain aside. Stay strong.

I will. I have to. If I fall apart now, I won't make it out alive.

Other than Peter Wood, I have no one left here. That truth doesn't crush me the way I expect-it steadies me.

I lift my chin, a strange calm washing through me, and begin to pack.