ALPHA SLAYER HEALING LUNA

The city was never quiet. Ambulances rushed down streets with their sirens screaming, car horns blared, and tall buildings glowed like fireflies against the dark. But inside St. Mary’s Hospital, the world narrowed to one table, one patient, and one pair of hands.

Selene Lawson’s hands.

“Scalpel,” she said softly.

The nurse placed it into her grip without hesitation. The room smelled of iron and medicine, sharp and heavy. The boy on the table was no more than sixteen. His chest rose and fell in short, desperate gasps. Blood soaked the sheets, and the monitors beeped wildly, each sound a reminder that he was slipping away.

Selene’s heart pounded, but her face stayed calm. People called her kind, gentle, patient. They never saw the storm under her skin.

“Stay with me,” she whispered, voice low so no one else could hear.

She cut swiftly, hands steady. The boy’s ribs had cracked inward, tearing his lung. Blood poured too fast. For a moment, panic rose in the room the nurses muttered, the other doctor cursed under his breath—but Selene’s touch carried something different.

A faint glow, golden and warm, spread from her fingertips into the wound. Only for a second. Only enough to slow the bleeding, to give her time.

No one noticed. No one ever did.

Her secret remained safe.

She stitched, pressed, repaired what could be repaired. The monitor steadied. The boy lived.

Relief filled the room. Nurses smiled at her, the other doctor patted her shoulder. “Good work, Dr. Lawson,” he said.

Selene only nodded. She removed her gloves, washed her hands, and left before anyone could see the shadow in her eyes.

---

It was past midnight when she stepped out of the hospital. The night air was cold, brushing her face like ice fingers. Cars rushed by on the main road, their headlights sharp and bright.

She walked alone. Always alone.

To the world, she was a healer. A kind doctor who gave all of herself to strangers. But there was another life waiting for her once the coat came off.

Her steps turned into a side street, away from the light. Her bag slid from her shoulder, and her white coat came off. Beneath it, she wore black—tight clothes that clung to her form, boots laced high, a thin blade strapped against her thigh.

Her eyes shifted, faint gold glowing in the dark.

The Slayer was awake.

---

The first howl tore through the silence.

Selene froze. Rogues.

They had been growing bolder, leaving human bodies behind in alleys, their throats torn out. The police said it was stray dogs. Selene knew better. These were wolves without control, beasts without a pack, drunk on blood and rage.

She gripped the hilt of her blade. Fire flickered under her skin, itching to be released.

Shadows moved.

One leapt at her from the side.

She ducked low, swung hard. Steel cut fur, and the wolf yelped, stumbling back. Yellow eyes glowed in the dark, hungry and wild.

“You should have stayed hidden,” she murmured.

It lunged again, but this time she met it with fire. Her hand burst into blue flames, the heat so fierce it burned the air itself. She thrust it into the rogue’s chest, and its howl turned into ash.

The others growled from the shadows, but when she stepped forward, flames curling around her arms, they scattered. They knew her.

They knew the Slayer.

Selene breathed hard, the fire fading from her hands. The alley smelled of smoke and burnt fur. She stood alone, her blade dripping dark blood, and her chest tight with the familiar ache.

She saved humans every day. She killed beasts every night.

But who saved her?

---

By dawn, she was home.

Her apartment was small, tucked above a noisy street with old brick walls and a flickering elevator. Inside, everything was neat—too neat. No family photos. No decorations. Just walls, shelves of medical books, and silence.

She dropped her bag on the couch and sat heavily, rubbing her temples.

Her eyes fell to the scar on her chest, hidden beneath her shirt. A scar no doctor could explain. A scar from another life.

Blood Moon night.

The memory rose unbidden—the pack surrounding her, eyes cold, words cruel. Her begging. Their rejection. Their claws. Pain like fire as they tore her apart. Her last breath under the red glow of the moon.

She had died.

But the Moon Goddess had touched her soul. “You will live again, Selene,” the voice had whispered. “But you will not return the same. You will heal. You will burn. You will choose.”

And so she had awoken in a city far away, reborn, with fire in her blood and light in her hands.

The world thought she was just a doctor. The underworld whispered another name—Alpha Slayer.

Selene closed her eyes, exhaustion pulling at her bones. She wanted sleep, but dreams never brought peace.

---

The next day, the hospital was chaos again.

Selene moved like water through the halls. She checked on an old woman who clutched her chest, gave gentle words to a crying boy as she stitched his arm, scolded a man who smoked too much but still smiled kindly as she fixed his cough.

“Doctor Lawson, do you ever rest?” a nurse asked with a small laugh.

“Lives don’t wait,” Selene answered simply.

But her heart longed for something she could not name.

By evening, the sky grew heavy with storm clouds. That was when they wheeled him in.

Tall. Broad. Blood soaking his side. His clothes torn like he had been in a fight.

“Stabbing victim!” a paramedic shouted.

Selene’s breath hitched the moment her eyes met his. His skin burned with Alpha energy.

Her chest tightened. No. It couldn’t be.

“Get him to surgery!” someone barked.

Selene rushed forward, pressing her hand to his wound. His eyes opened—storm-gray, sharp, and endless. For a second, the world froze.

The mate bond slammed into her like lightning.

Her heart skipped. Her soul burned.

The man’s hand shot up, weak but certain, gripping hers tightly. His voice was rough, barely a whisper.

“You…” His lips trembled. “You’re mine.”

The words shattered everything Selene thought she knew.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Her secret, her lo

neliness, her control—all of it trembled under the weight of that bond.

She had found her mate.

And nothing would ever be the same.