THE REJECTED LUNA'S REVENGE

My father, the Alpha of the Blackoak pack, found me when I was just three years old. It was in the middle of a brutal snowstorm, deep in the forest. I was barely clinging to life, my tiny body freezing and fragile, wrapped in nothing but rags. No one knows how I got there or who abandoned me. My earliest memory is of his strong arms lifting me out of the snow and holding me close to his chest.

He took me home and raised me as his daughter. For years, life was good. I had a brother, Kayden, who was a few years older than me. He was loving, protective, and kind, the very definition of what an older sibling should be. We grew up together, side by side, in a warm home filled with love and laughter. But there was always a shadow that followed me, a constant reminder of what I lacked.

I wasn't human. Far from it. But I didn't have a wolf either. And in a pack, a werewolf without a wolf is worse than nothing. The other pack members looked down on me. To them, I was an anomaly, a failure of nature, something to be scorned. They whispered when I walked by, their words sticking like a second skin. But as long as my father and Kayden were by my side, I could endure it. Their love was my shield.

Then everything changed.

It started with my mother's death. She wasn't my birth mother—I didn't even remember my real parents—but she was still Luna, still the heart of the pack. And when she was gone, everything changed. She passed suddenly, taken by an illness no healer could trace or cure. It felt like the air had been sucked out of our home. My father tried to keep it together, but he wasn't the same. He started pulling away, little by little, until it felt like I was losing him too.

And then Kayden left. He was sent overseas for his Alpha training, as tradition demanded. I was happy for him, proud even, but his absence left a gaping hole in my life. Without him, I was alone in a house that felt colder and emptier with each passing day.

That was when Lucy came into our lives.

She wasn't just any woman. Lucy had always been a part of my father's life, though she was never openly acknowledged in our home while my mother was alive. When she moved into the Black Oak estate after my mother's death, she brought her son, Kane, with her. Kane was the same age as Kayden, only a few months younger, but the similarities ended there. While Kayden had been my protector, Kane became my tormentor. From the moment he stepped through our doors, he seemed to take pleasure in making my life unbearable.

And Lucy? She was no better. If anything, she encouraged his behavior, turning a blind eye to his cruelty. She didn't see me as a daughter of the Alpha. To her, I was an unwanted burden, a mistake my father had foolishly taken in. And she made sure I knew it.

Life became unbearable. Every day was a battle, a struggle to survive in a home that no longer felt like mine. The pack members, emboldened by Lucy's disdain, treated me worse than ever. I was an outcast, a nobody, a wolf-less girl in a world where strength and power were everything.

But no matter how much they tried to break me, I refused to shatter. My father's love, though quieter now, was still there. And Kayden's memory was a constant reminder of the warmth I once had. I clung to those fragments of happiness, even as the darkness closed in around me.

I didn't think it could get any worse.

But then, one day, my stepmother sent me a text that would change everything: “Your father is dead.”

I didn't cry. I couldn't cry. But my heart palpitated inside of my chest. I suddenly didn't remember how to breathe. And liquid ran down my nostrils and poured onto my textbook, damping the white in droplets that soaked the bloody red.

I excused myself and my Isuzu D-Max, an old 1988 model my father had gifted me, rattled to a stop at the front of the house a little into the evening. My trembling fingers gripped the steering wheel and my vision blurred with tears. He had been sick in the past few months. His health deteriorating. It had been me, only me, who stayed by his side, trying desperately to nurse him back to health. Lucy, his so-called partner, had barely lifted a finger. She didn't care. She never did. The weight of responsibility had fallen entirely on my shoulders, and no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough.

Now he was gone, home was going to become hell.

The cold bit at my cheeks as I stepped out of the truck, the snow crunching beneath my boots with every step toward the house. The warmth of the vehicle was gone, I was bare and shuddering despite the layers of clothes I had on.

I paused at the door, my trembling fingers lingering on the handle, the seconds lengthening as my head pressed against the wood.

One second passed.

Then two.

Then three.

Finally, with a deep breath, I pushed it open, the hinges creaking loudly in the silence of the house.

The living room was dimly lit, shadows stretching long across the wooden floor. My boots left wet prints as I walked through, my heart thudding rapidly against my ribcage.

I had been here this morning, in this very house. I'd kissed his cheek, tucked a blanket around his shoulders, and whispered that I'd see him later. But now, later felt like a cruel joke.

The door to his bedroom was ajar, and as I stepped inside, my breath caught in my throat. He was there, lying on the bed, his face peaceful but pale, almost as white as the snow falling outside. He looked so still, too still. My knees buckled, and I sank to the edge of the bed, my hand trembling as I reached out to touch his.

It was cold.

“Papa…” I whispered. Tears spilled freely down my cheeks as I shook my head, it was hard to believe. This couldn't be real. It couldn't.

I leaned over him, my tears falling onto the worn quilt that covered him. His words from this morning echoed in my mind, breaking me all over again.

“You know,” he said. “The day I found you, the snow was just like this. Soft. Gentle. You were so tiny, so pale, wrapped in those rags. But you were beautiful. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.”

He had smiled then, his eyes distant as he remembered. “I thought the snow had given me a gift, a miracle. And you were. You are.”

I had laughed softly at the time, brushing his graying hair away from his face, telling him to stop talking like that. But now, those words felt like a goodbye I hadn't been ready to hear.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered as I clutched his cold hand to my chest.

Just then, the sound of the door bolting lock behind me caused me to jolt off the edge of the bed.

I whipped around to see my stepmother standing there. I've never seen her more scary, more infuriated, more… her wolf was in charge, I was certain. The way she watched me, in the dark of the room, her eyes glowing red with anger, I knew I was in for a beating of my life.

She stepped closer, growling, her breathing harsh filling the dark of the house. “You wench!”

I stepped back, and had barely made it two steps away before she closed in on me and grabbed me by my arm. She yanked me forward, her claws sank into my skin, sinking enough to leave cuts that caused blood to trickle onto her hand.

I screamed. The pain was too much to bear. “I did nothing!”

Her hand struck my face with brutal force, snapping my head sideways, shutting the words out of my mouth. The images distorted from my vision, black and white, and before I knew it, I hit the floor, the pain rippling through me.

“I told him,” she hissed, towering over me, her eyes blazing, “I told him we should get rid of you, but no! He put his life on the line for you!”

A sob clawed its way up, breaking from my lips. “What are you talking about? I didn't do anything!”

Growls rumbled within her chest. "He sacrificed himself to keep you safe! All the pack knew it, but you—” She spat the words, her claws flexing. "You're nothing but a burden. A fragile, useless wolf who—”

She didn't finish. Her next move was a blur, a swift, brutal grip on my arm, her nails piercing my skin, ripping me back up to face her. Another hit came across my face, my scream filled the entire house.

“I did nothing–”

The first kick came, straight into my gut and rib cage, instantly shutting me up. Then another and another. With each kick laid in were grunts and curses from my inflictor. “You...” growl. “worthless..” growl. “Piece of crap...” growl. “You deserve nothing! You hear me?! Nothing!”

I wasn't prepared for such agony. Pain pulsated through my body. There was only pain, all-encompassing pain radiating in crashing waves that threatened to drown me with every quivering breath I dragged in. The hits came till I couldn't scream anymore but instead hoped the suffering would stop anytime soon.

When it finally did stop, I was a wheezing mess.

She stood over me while I gasped for breath, feeling the taste of blood at the back of my throat. On my tongue. Dripping down my chin. “Now listen to me,” She told me, a little breathless. “Kayden's coming back tomorrow. And before he gets here, I want you gone. Forever.”