Alpha's Regret: After Her Death My Luna Became Untouchable!

MORRANA

"I'm moving out," I murmured to the water stain on the ceiling.

"And go where?" Skarre, my wolf, whispered, stretching lazily at the back of my mind. "Since you seem to have forgotten, we don't have a dime, Morrana. This place is a cage, but at least it keeps the rain off our fur."

"I don't care. Anywhere is better than rotting in this swamp."

I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress as rain hammered relentlessly against the rusted tin roof of the trailer.

Today was my eighteenth birthday, yet there was no cake, no gifts, and no sudden burst of pack magic making me feel like a renewed wolf.

Just the same damp air and the bitter taste of reality.

With a heavy sigh, I left the bed and padded into the kitchen, where I found slightly burnt toast and a piece of paper waiting for me. Mom had already left before dawn to work her underpaid jobs.

I picked up the paper and smoothed its edges before reading.

"Happy birthday, Morra. There's milk in the fridge if it hasn't gone yet. Be good today. I love you."

I read the note twice, and its simplicity twisted something raw in my chest.

She was killing herself just to keep this metal box over our heads.

I folded the paper carefully and slipped it into my back pocket, treating it like the most precious gift I could have received.

I reached into my drawer and pulled out a bent cigarette I had swiped from a pack last week. After lighting it, I leaned against the counter and took a long drag, letting the smoke burn down my throat.

"Smoking kills the senses, you idiot," Skarre snapped, pacing back and forth in my head. "How am I supposed to track anything if your lungs are full of tar?"

"Good thing we ain't hunting deer today, then," I shot back mentally, blowing a plume of gray smoke toward the ceiling. "We're hunting for high school diplomas. Just hold your horses."

I stubbed out the cigarette before pulling on my frayed black jeans and oversized charcoal sweater, then lacing up my boots.

I stopped in front of the cracked bathroom mirror and stared at my reflection.

At five-seven, I wasn't exactly short, and I had a softer, fuller build that had earned me more than enough cruel comments over the years. Dark hair clung stubbornly to my temples, framing a face that rarely bothered to hide what I was thinking.

And my temper?

That was something most people learned to avoid by the time they reached middle school.

The walk to school was brutal. By the time I kicked open the front doors, I felt like a walking hazard, soaked from the rain and already irritated enough to bite someone's head off.

As I made my way down the hallway, the usual chatter gradually died. Students pressed themselves against the lockers, their eyes following me with open disgust.

The corner of my lips twitched.

Nothing new.

They hated me. To them, I was trash.

So I lifted my chin and stared straight ahead, letting the ice in my eyes speak for itself. I wanted them to remember one thing:

Trash could still choke you if you swallowed it wrong.

Suddenly, the world spun.

A heavy shoulder slammed into my side before I could take another step, sending me crashing face-first into a metal locker. A sharp pain tore across my cheek, and when I instinctively touched it, my fingers came away covered in blood.

"The fuck!"

"Watch where you're going, Valmont."

Draven stepped in front of me, his broad frame blocking the hallway. He was the son of a high-ranking enforcer, built like a wall and blessed with twice the arrogance, and several of his football buddies were already laughing behind him.

"What's wrong? Too distracted thinking about how your mom pays the rent?" His lips curved into a disgusting sneer.

My hands curled into fists.

"Don't you dare," I hissed.

"What? Little wolf's angry now?"

He shoved my cheek to the side, and his grin widened.

"Word on the street is she's keeping the beds warm for the Delta wolves just to feed you."

Skarre's growl thundered through my skull, her jaws snapping hungrily.

'Kill the fucking bastard! Rip his throat out!'

The insult ignited the rage already burning inside me.

I grabbed Draven's jacket, pulled him down, and drove my forehead directly into the bridge of his nose with everything I had. His cry echoed through the hallway as he stumbled backward, blood spilling from his nose.

I didn't stop. Grabbing a fistful of his thick hair, I hauled him forward and slammed his face against the locker he'd thrown me into before tackling him to the floor. I pinned his arms beneath my knees and unleashed punch after punch, the sharp sting of my split knuckles mixing with the blood coating my hands.

"Say it again!" I screamed, throwing another punch. "Say another word about my mother, you piece of garbage!"

"Morrana, stop! You're going to kill him!"

Sloane's terrified voice pierced through the chaos.

Draven's eyes rolled back into his head, and his body went completely limp beneath me. I raised my fist for one more strike, my breathing ragged as my vision swam in white-hot rage.

"Miss Valmont! Stand down immediately!"

Principal Brooks' voice boomed down the corridor.

My fist froze in the air, blood dripping from my knuckles. Slowly, I climbed off Draven and wiped my bleeding cheek with the back of my sleeve.

"He started it." My voice was eerily calm. I didn't regret a thing.

"My office. Now!" Brooks hissed, his face dark with rage as he signaled for the school nurse to tend to the unconscious boy on the floor.

I rolled my shoulders and walked ahead of him without waiting to be escorted.

When we reached the administrative wing, Brooks shoved his office door open. The moment I stepped inside, however, my breath caught.

Sitting in the leather chair opposite the desk was Beta Kai, the second-in-command of the Shadowcrest Pack.

"Beta Kai, I am so sorry for the disruption." Brooks immediately changed his tune, scurrying past me like a loyal hound. "This girl is an absolute menace. She just assaulted—"

Kai raised a hand.

He didn't even look at the principal. His hard eyes remained fixed on me, traveling from my split cheek to my bloody knuckles.

"Out," Kai commanded.

The quiet order carried the undeniable authority of his rank.

Brooks blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "But sir, the protocol for standard student violence—"

"I said, out, Brooks," Kai repeated, his voice dropping into something dangerously quiet.

The principal swallowed hard, bowed his head slightly, and practically sprinted out of his own office before clicking the door shut behind him.

The silence stretched between us.

I kept my posture rigid, refusing to show a single ounce of fear to the man who handled the Alpha's dirty work.

"Clean your face," Kai ordered, tossing a box of tissues across the desk.

"I'm fine," I replied flatly, letting the blood dry on my skin. "What do you want, Beta? Pretty sure high school brawl protocols don't usually involve the pack royalty."

Kai stood, his height immediately making the office feel like a cage.

"Your high school career is the least of your concerns today, Morrana."

His gaze settled on me. "You're eighteen now."

"So?" My brow arched. "Why has my darn birthday suddenly become the concern of the mighty Beta of the pack?"

"The Alpha has requested your presence at the pack house." He headed toward the side door leading directly to the private parking lot. "We have a car waiting."

A cold dread seeped into my veins, replacing the fading rage of the fight.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. I have classes."

I declined even though my heart was racing madly. Alpha's call? Certainly not good news. That guy was the biggest thorn in my fucking life.

Kai stopped at the door, turning his head just enough to give me a lethal side-eye.

"That wasn't an invitation. Move your feet, or I will move them for you."

Knowing I couldn't outrun a Beta wolf, I gritted my teeth and followed him out into the pouring rain.

A sleek, black Maybach was idling in the restricted lot, and as we approached, a driver held the back door open.

I climbed in, sliding across the expensive leather seats and feeling entirely out of place, while Kai took the front passenger seat.

As the car pulled away from the school lot, I pressed my forehead against the cool, tinted glass and watched the dreary town slide past on the way to the pack estate.

"This is very bad, Morra," Skarre murmured.

For once, there was no sarcasm in her voice. She sounded genuinely afraid.

"Something's very wrong." She paced restlessly through my mind.

"Just breathe," I muttered under my breath, watching the massive iron gates of the Pack House swing open. "We can handle whatever comes next. Same as always."

Even though I said it, my own words sounded weak to me.

The car stopped beneath the grand stone portico of the estate, and the driver opened my door. I stepped out into the dry, lavish entryway of the main house.

The wealth of the place made my stomach turn, a cruel contrast to the leaking roof I had been staring at barely an hour ago.

Kai didn't say a word as he led me up the grand staircase and down a long hallway lined with portraits of past Alphas, finally stopping in front of a pair of towering mahogany doors.

He knocked once.

"Get in."

A deep, resonant voice rang out, pressing heavily against my chest.

Kai opened the door. "Go," he motioned for me to enter.

Inhaling deeply, I stepped inside, and Kai shut the door firmly behind me.

I was left standing on an expensive rug in the center of the massive office.

At the far end of the room sat Alpha Caius Varro.

He didn't look up at first, leaning over his desk as he signed off on a stack of documents. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his broad shoulders were clad in a dark velvet suit jacket.

He looked every bit the ruthless, untouchable king he was.

Alpha Caius was known as the most handsome man across the packs, but to me, he was a cruel tyrant.

As I stared at him, a wave of profound, burning hatred surged through me.

This man was responsible for the persistent financial hardship experienced by the residents of the Crescent Flats, the trailer park where I lived. He was the tyrant who taxed my mother's meager wages until she had to work three jobs just to buy groceries, letting families like mine rot in the dirt while he sat comfortably in his mansion and played righteous God.

"What do you want?"

I couldn't keep the bitterness from my voice.

His hand paused. He slowly set the pen down on the desk before raising his head.

Our gazes met.

The moment those striking green eyes met mine, an electric shock rushed through the air, vibrating right down into my bones.

The abrupt scent of cedarwood, heavy smoke from a winter fire, and a deep, intoxicating masculine musk filled my lungs, making my head spin.

My knees buckled as sudden weakness washed over my legs, and I reached out blindly, gripping the nearby chair just to keep from collapsing onto the floor.

Inside my mind, Skarre went feral.

Her howl tore through my consciousness, loud enough to shake every thought from my head.

"MATE!"

Another howl followed, wild and unmistakable.

"MATE!"

Her voice thundered through my mind.

"HE IS OUR FUCKING MATE!"