JOURNEY TO MOONCREST PACK

Celine’s pov

Sam’s fist connected with my cheek violently and an explosion of white light burst behind my eyes.

"Ah." I exhaled.

The pain was sharp forcing me to clutch my jaw as the tang of blood flooded my mouth. It coated my tongue, and I spat it onto the dusty floor, my glare locking on him through the haze of agony.

The throbbing in my cheek pulsed in time with my heartbeat, but the rage coursing through my veins burned hotter than the pain ever could.

I lunged forward, angrily slicing my fist through the air aiming straight for his smug face, but Sam moved with infuriating precision, slipping out of the way at the last second.

He made a brutal hook to my stomach that knocked the air from my lungs. My knees buckled and I stumbled backward, one hand clutching my abdomen as I tried to force my breath back into my chest.

Sam’s lips coiled in a mocking smile. He stepped forward slowly, closing the distance between us.

"I told you." He sneered, his lips curling into a grin wide enough to show every one of his teeth. "Get ready to go join your father."

The crowd roared as if his cruelty was entertainment, their voices blending into a deafening wall of sound. Some of them leaned forward in their seats, eager for more blood. Sam seized my collar in one powerful fist, hauling me up as if I weighed nothing, turning me so everyone could see their so-called ‘victor.’ My feet dangled above the floor, my head snapping from side to side as the jeers rolled over me like waves.

Somewhere beneath the chaos, Damien's voice cut through:

"You can do this, Celine. For your father. For his empire. Prove to them who you are". He urged, his eyes locking with mine.

I didn’t get the chance to answer him. Sam hurled me down like I was a rag doll, and the impact shattered my bones in pain. My ribs and spine hurt as I gasp.

"Yeah!" Someone howled.

"You’re the true weakling!" Another jeered.

“Daddy’s little girl!”

“Are you sure she’s even Lord Marco’s daughter?”

Each taunt sliced through me, the humiliation searing hotter than the physical pain. My jaw clenched, my gaze sweeping over the faces of the Moretti rookies, their smirks feeding the wildfire in my chest. Then I saw Sam again, raising his hand high in victory, as if this was already finished.

Across the hall, Damien’s lips moved again. I couldn’t hear the sound; instead, I read them clearly: Get the hell up and show him who you are.

I shut my eyes, shutting out the crowd, shutting out the sting of my injuries. And the memory hit; sharp, vivid, and merciless. My father on that night. The werewolf’s claws split his skull. The spray of blood. The sound that wasn’t just a sound, but the tearing away of my world. The helplessness. The grief that scorched everything inside me. The rage that had never left.

My eyes snapped open.

"Bring it on, you son of a bitch!." I roared as I stood up to my feet, my voice slicing through the noise like a whip crack.

A voice from the crowd, mocking and eager, called out, “Yeah, deal with her! Finish her up!”

I scoffed. Perfect. Let them watch.

Sam charged, his fist swinging straight for my face. This time, I didn’t dodge but instead I caught it mid-air. My fingers clamped down like a steel trap, tightening until I felt the pop of his knuckles shifting. His eyes went wide with disbelief breaking through his cocky facade. He tried to hit me with his other hand, but I caught that one too, holding him like a cornered animal.

I didn’t hesitate. My knee shot up, smashing into his ribs with bone-rattling force. He doubled over, wheezing, just in time for my boot to connect with his chest. The kick sent him flying, literally airborne before his body crashed to the floor with a sickening thud.

The entire hall went dead silent.

I stalked toward him, slow and deliberate. My fury rolled off me in waves. He was still dazed when I straddled him, my fists already coming down. Punches landing with bone-cracking force, his blood splattering across my knuckles, warm and sticky.

And with every strike, I wasn’t just hitting Sam. I was hitting the werewolf. I was hitting the moment my father’s eyes went dull. I was hitting every ounce of weakness I’d ever been accused of. I hit him harder and faster, without mercy.

“Celine, you’re going to kill him!” someone from the crowd shouted, but their voice was irrelevant to me.

I leaned down, my mouth close enough for him to feel my breath.

"Say hello to my father for me."

Then I delivered the final blow, a crushing punch that left him limp and motionless beneath me.

I rose slowly, my chest heaving, my body trembling with adrenaline. One of the rookies stepped forward, his eyes wide with both awe and fear, and raised my arm high.

"Our winner… and new Lord!" He declared.

The hall erupted into cheers, whistles, and claps. Be it real or forced, I didn’t care. They could love me or hate me. Respect me or fear me, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that they would never forget this moment. I was Lord Moretti now.

Damien was the first to reach me, he guided me out of the hall with his hand steadying my arm to my father’s office. Inside, he handed me a towel and a cup of coffee.

"I’m proud of you." He said, his voice carrying genuine weight.

"Thank you. That means a lot, you encouraged me". I replied, wiping the blood from my knuckles.

Damien was more than an ally. He was my anchor in this storm, but even he knew challenging me after this would be suicide. Sam had made the mistake of thinking I was just a twenty-two-year-old girl riding on her father’s name. Well, maybe I was but not anymore.

"So, what’s next?." Damien asked, his tone calm but his eyes sharp.

Now was the time to tell him everything.

"I’m going to the werewolf’s pack," I said flatly. "You remember the one we chased? The one that was almost killed yesterday? I saw something near his body."

His brows drew together. "What was it?".

"A tag," I said. "It read ‘Mooncrest Pack.’ I need to go there and find out the truth."

"Are you insane? That’s suicide. Didn’t you see what they did to your father? To the empire?" He snapped.

"Don’t worry about me, Damien. I’ll be fine. First, I’ll head to the hospital where the werewolf is being treated. He’ll tell me how to reach the pack… and then I’m going there myself."

"That’s a lie. You’re not leaving, you’ll get yourself killed."

I stepped closer, letting the cold edge of my expression

speak louder than my words. "I need you to do one thing for me."

His eyes narrowed. "Which is?".