The Wolfless Queen's Revenge

Abigail's POV

The rope dug into my wrists like it wanted to grind through bone. I'd been locked in this godforsaken stone chamber for half a year now, but I still couldn't get used to this burning pain.

I was supposed to transform on my eighteenth birthday night, under the full moon—to feel my wolf awaken, roar, merge with me for the first time.

But in that ritual circle that night, I just knelt there. Unchanged.

Wolfless.

That's what they called us—the ones forsaken by the moon goddess.

I shifted against the cold, rough stone wall, trying to ease the bite of the rope against my flesh. The dress I wore—if it could still be called a dress—hung in tatters on my frame. It had been white once. Now it was stained into an indistinguishable dirty gray by mud, dried sweat, and humiliation. Greasy strands of hair hung limply against my face, and I was fairly certain I smelled like a corpse that had been rotting here for weeks, unclaimed.

"Creak—"

The door swung open, harsh torchlight flooding in. I squinted reflexively. For just that one instant, I thought maybe someone had come to let me out. Maybe Father had changed his mind, decided not to "sacrifice his daughter to appease the moon goddess's wrath" after all.

When I saw who it was, my chest tightened sharply.

Olivia wore a gown that probably cost enough to feed and clothe an ordinary pack member for an entire year. Deep crimson silk pooled at her feet like spilled wine, gold thread catching the firelight with a cold gleam, as if flames were flowing across her body. Her hair was piled high, woven through with tiny pearls and rubies. She looked exactly like a Luna.

"Olivia." My voice came out hoarse, broken, and I hated it. "You came. I knew you would. Did Mother talk to Father? Are they... going to let me out?"

She stepped into the room, the door closing behind her with a dull thud. She smiled at me, but it wasn't the warm, slightly mischievous smile from my memories.

This smile had sharp edges.

"Help you?" She tilted her head slightly, her gaze traveling up and down my body like she was examining a specimen pinned to a board. "Oh, Abigail. My sweet, stupid sister. Yes, I'm here to help you—help you walk toward death. How does that sound?"

Her words hit like a solid punch to my chest. I blinked, struggling to arrange these words into sentences my brain could comprehend.

"What... what are you talking about?" I forced the words out. "That's not funny at all, Olivia. If Mother hears you joking like this, she'll be angry."

"Mother?" She laughed, the sound thin and sharp, "Oh, you poor thing. You really don't know anything, do you? You just trust everyone so completely, so pathetically naive."

She took another step forward, her skirts dragging across the rough stone floor with a rustling sound.

"Fine," she said slowly, as if bestowing a favor, "since you've been so obedient all these years, such a good little puppet for us, I'll be generous. Before you burn to death, I'll tell you a bit of truth."

Burn to death. The words slammed into my head, accompanied by Father's cold, hard voice from last week: The moon goddess demands sacrifice. The pack's prosperity depends on it.

"Mother—Evelyn—" Olivia's lips curved around the name like she was savoring a carefully selected delicacy, "is my mother. Not yours. She never was yours. Honestly, if we hadn't needed your identity, I would have pushed you off a cliff years ago."

The room seemed to spin slowly. I stared at her, my head buzzing, refusing to accept her words.

"No... that's impossible. If that's true, why would Mother... why would she treat me so well?"

"Treat you well?" Olivia laughed again, this time the amusement spilling from her eyes, "Oh, Abigail. She didn't treat you well at all. She was killing you, bit by bit."

She leaned down, closer to me. I could smell the expensive, sickly sweet scent on her, tinged with a metallic coldness.

"Every pastry she specially prepared for you—remember? How angry she'd get whenever I reached for one? She always said it was 'special,' made 'with love' just for you." Olivia lowered her voice to almost a whisper. "It was special all right. Special poison, mixed into the sugar. Just the right dose to keep your wolf locked inside forever, never to awaken."

My throat constricted, my breathing nearly stopped. Memories surfaced from dark corners: those afternoons when Evelyn would call me to her side, smiling as she handed me a small plate; her gentle hand stroking my hair, her soft gaze watching me eat every bite; that one time I tried to share the last piece with Olivia and she went suddenly cold; how she always said it was "just for Abigail," that "no one else can touch it."

And that indescribable heaviness in my blood all these years, that oppressive feeling like something was sleeping deep inside my body but could never wake up...

"You're lying." I said it quietly, but even I could hear there was barely any strength in those words. The scattered threads were being twisted together, forming a picture I didn't want to see.

"Am I?" Olivia straightened up, elegantly brushing away invisible dust. "Think carefully, dear sister. When have I ever lied to you?"

"I've always been honest—about how smart I am, how beautiful, how worthy I am of becoming a future Luna. You've known all that, haven't you? This is just another fact you've refused to see."

She walked slowly around me, her steps leisurely, as if we weren't in a prison cell but strolling casually through a hall. And I was bound to the wall, without even the freedom to turn and follow her movement.

I was like cornered prey, and she was a predator wearing my sister's face.

"But wait," Olivia's voice grew sweeter, sickeningly sweet, "you haven't heard the best part yet. The part that's really worth celebrating."

I couldn't speak. My throat felt blocked by something.

"I'm about to get everything you once had." She stopped in front of me, crouching down, her eyes bright with near-madness.

"The Alpha King's resources, his attention, his favor—they'll all belong only to me now. I'll be sent to the capital, receive the finest training, get the most valuable matches. I'll marry an Alpha so powerful that Father will be ashamed of himself by comparison. As for you—"

She leaned even closer, her voice so soft it barely echoed between us:

"You'll be tied to a stake and burned to ash. Scattered by the wind. Completely forgotten."

"Guards!"

Olivia's voice suddenly rose, clear and carrying a condescending command.

The door immediately swung open, two warriors entering. Their gazes never once landed on my face, only mechanically saluting.

"Take her to the stake." Olivia said flatly. "Father is waiting. It's time for the ceremony."

"No—"

The syllable tore from my chest.

"No! Please, Olivia, please! We're sisters, we grew up together, you can't—"

"We were never sisters." She cut me off, her tone calm to the point of ruthlessness. "You were just a placeholder. A tool. And now—"

She turned toward the door, the red skirts flowing across the stone floor like clusters of flame.

"Your purpose has been served."

The guards roughly grabbed my arms, and I struggled instinctively. God knows how hard I tried—I twisted, kicked, screamed until my throat was raw and torn. But six months of imprisonment and years of poison-induced weakness meant I was no match for two adult warriors.

They practically dragged me toward the door, my feet scrabbling uselessly against the cold stone floor, leaving a trail of chaotic scrape marks.

"Sweet dreams, Abigail."

Olivia lazily raised her hand, not even bothering to look back. "Or—"

"Burn bright."

Her laughter followed me all the way down the corridor, amplified and distorted by the narrow stone passage, mixing with my hoarse screams until I couldn't tell which sound was coming from my own throat.