You Chose Her, Alpha. Now Watch Me Rise

Aurora

This place used to be a silver mine, but now it was worse. A prison where they sent wolves to break us.

The silver in the walls burned if we shifted, so we didn’t. We just worked. And bled. And waited for something to change.

I was number 73 now. Not a name. Just a number.

“Move, 73!” a guard yelled, snapping a whip close to my back.

I kept dragging the heavy stones, hands raw and stinging. The others didn’t speak much. We didn’t have the strength.

One girl, young—maybe eighteen—collapsed beside me.

A guard stormed over, his face twisted in irritation, lifting his baton high above his shoulder. "Get up!" he shouted, though the girl hadn’t made a sound.

When she didn’t move, he brought the baton down—not once, but twice—slamming it against the stone just inches from her skull.

She shrieked, curling in on herself.

"She can’t even stand," I said quickly, stepping in front of her. "Her arm’s broken. She needs help."

He shoved me hard. I hit the wall and gasped.

“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” he said. “What, you think you’re still a Luna?”

He looked around at the other prisoners. “Everyone here deserves to be here. Especially you.”

He grabbed the girl and dragged her away. Her cries echoed down the tunnel.

---

At night, we slept on the cold floor. No beds. No blankets. Just dirt and pain.

But the worst pain didn’t come from the work.

It came from the bond.

Every time Dunstan touched Aubrey, I felt the mating bond twisted inside me like a knife. I curled into myself, biting my hand to stay quiet. Some nights, I failed. I screamed until my throat burned.

He didn’t care. He probably wanted me to feel it.

I used to love him. I used to believe him.

Now all I wanted was revenge.

Every night, I sat in my corner, dirty and bruised, planning. I drew lines in the dirt, whispered names under my breath, and begged the Moon Goddess to help me.

I had one hope left.

Dominic.

He said he’d come. He had to.

---

I was barely awake when someone grabbed me the next morning.

One grabbed me by the arm so roughly I thought it might pop from the socket. I clawed at the ground, but another yanked me by the hair. They didn’t care if I was awake or breathing—just that I moved.

“Get up, 73.”

I tried to fight, but I was weak. My body was shaking. I hadn’t eaten. I could barely see.

They dragged me out of the pit and threw me into the mud. My knees hit hard. My hands sunk into the filth.

I looked up and saw Aubrey.

“Bow to your Luna,” the warrior barked.

“I’d rather die,” I spat.

He raised a hand to hit me, but Aubrey stopped him.

“Leave us,” she said.

He stepped away.

“What do you want now?” I asked, voice rough. “Want to film how pathetic I look?”

She laughed. “Oh, you gave me a great idea.”

She pulled out her phone and started recording. “Look at her,” she said in a syrupy tone, stepping slowly around me like a predator circling its prey. “Former Luna, now just a filthy mutt in the mud. Face down like a kicked dog. Isn’t it tragic?”

My fists clenched in the mud. Every part of me wanted to lunge at her, to wipe that smirk off her face with blood and teeth. But I couldn’t—not yet.

She crouched low, angling the phone to catch every inch of dirt on my skin. Then she zoomed in on my bruised face and torn clothes. “This is what happens when you forget your place,” she continued. “Maybe I’ll send this to the council... or better yet, make it go viral in the territory’s network.”

She tilted the phone mockingly. “Smile for the rogues, sweetheart. They love a broken Luna story.”

I looked down at the mud.

Endure it, my wolf whispered. Soon she’ll beg for the same mercy she never gave.

Then I heard a voice I didn’t expect.

“Stop it, Aubrey.”

Dunstan.

Aubrey turned. “Babe?”

He didn’t even look at her.

“Get a maid,” he said. “Clean her up.”

Aubrey stared at him. “Why? She doesn’t deserve it.”

“I need her in the packhouse.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Need her? What, are you making her Luna again?”

He scoffed. “Of course not.”

I stood, shaking. Mud on my face. Fire in my chest.

“Then what?” I asked. “What do you want from me?”

I wanted to spit in his face. But I needed answers more than pride.