The Luna’s Revenge

The Luna

one

*ROSEA*

Iloved Jordan Bryce with all my heart.

When he stepped foot into the ballroom my father rented for my eighteenth birthday, and I laid eyes on him, I was done for.

When I realized my wolf was calling out for his.

When I saw his crooked smile and felt his hand around mine.

I gave my heart away to him immediately, to my mate.

It took me only a couple of minutes to fall head over heels for him.

Jordan was a warrior of high rank who accompanied his alpha that evening, but it didn’t matter to me that he was no alpha’s son.

No matter who he was, he would be good enough for me.

Besides, I had a pack and a future. As my dad’s only child—as an alpha’s only child—it was, in fact, considered good that my mate wouldn’t be an alpha heir himself.

Jordan immediately began courting me. Doing it all the proper way, by introducing himself to my father first and asking him for his ‘Okay’. It was a mere technicality to do that, but Dad was impressed by his manners. Even my mother liked him.

Everyone liked him.

He was a strong warrior from a good family, with the proper drive to lead a pack, and with me by his side, he was an alpha’s daughter’s mate.

“I was so stupid,” I mutter.

We weren’t stupid, my wolf Alora says. He was our mate. It wasn’t our fault for trusting him.

Maybe, but we were na?ve. Rory warned us back then; he never liked him. If only he were still around…

My cousin Rory, an orphan who grew up with me, was the only one who didn’t buy into Jordan’s bullshit. Back then, everyone thought he was jealous, envious, that he wanted the pack for himself, but now I know better.

I wish he were still alive. I know that despite all his disappointment in me, he would be at my side.

I don’t know what to do, Alora.

Alora stays quiet. While I wish she would say something, I also know there isn’t much to say because there is nothing we can possibly do.

My mate is the alpha of my former pack, the pack that was actually my heritage.

It’s his now. I gave it to him, or rather, my father did, believing he would forever watch out for me and for this place.

Little did Dad know that it was all a farce.

I glance at the mirror in the corridor, noting that the bruises on my face are gone, and only some around my neck are still there.

Grabbing a scarf to wrap around my neck, I finally make my way outside.

Good thing my father isn’t alive anymore – this would have broken him.

Raise your head, Alora says.

You don’t need to tell me twice.

I am an alpha’s daughter. Even if hell freezes, even if Jordan burns my pack down, even if he beats and humiliates me, even if I die at his hands, I will always be an alpha’s daughter.

Nothing will change that.

“You are late,” Jordan snarls when I enter the dining room for breakfast. It’s nothing new to me that he does it in front of the pack. I have endured his humiliation for long enough to have gotten used to it.

Keep your head up high.

“Well,” I say, nodding at Beta Clemmens, who offers me a seat. “I had duties to attend to.” I take my cup of tea, making sure not to show an ounce of weakness or fear at the dark glare he is shooting me.

“I don’t know what type of duties a spoiled princess may have to attend to,” he says.

He keeps his voice low and calm like he always does, and I hate that he does it.

If he showed open aggression, the pack might have been more sympathetic to me, but the way he has been doing it for years, they have just started to believe him.

He always goes with the half-truth. It’s true that I am an alpha’s only child; maybe I grew up as a princess with privileges and love, but it’s not true that I never learned or studied, that my parents didn’t teach me anything.

In fact, my father was always adamant about me knowing everything about the pack.

And I was a fast learner. I might have been na?ve as a teen, like most of them are, but I wasn’t dumb.

I loved studying; I eagerly sucked up everything my parents taught me.

I learned how to handle difficult political situations from my mother, as well as how to carry myself with grace in a room full of alphas who might look down on me.

Thinking of her now makes my chest clench. I miss her so much; I miss both of them. Knowing that without their previous guidance, I would have been completely lost and maybe already dead makes my chest ache even more. I didn’t realize how much they taught me until I needed it.

“Good morning, Alpha,” one of the warriors says while approaching us. He briefly gazes at me. “Luna.”

He doesn’t spare me a second glance and focuses on Jordan.

It’s not new to me, yet it still gives me a stab to my chest. There are many people in this pack who saw me grow up and who knew my father, and one by one, they all fell like dominoes when Jordan took over after his death.

On their list of priorities, I am just the lowest. The alpha’s daughter—no matter how kind I was to them before and how much I mingled with them and helped them, no matter how good my parents were—it doesn’t count anymore, because Jordan brings power.

The moment he took over, the finances were in his hands, so were the decisions. He wouldn’t even have needed to paint me in a bad light to make the pack turn their backs on me. They would have done it anyway.

But I guess he gave them an excuse for their consciences.

Fortunately, the other tables continue their breakfast, not paying me much attention anymore. This is until I hear the door open again, and a young woman comes in. Jordan spots her, too, and smiles at her. “Clara, you are late!”

“I am sorry, Alpha.” She rushes towards our table, her cheeks rosy from the cool outside air. “I attended my training with the gamma.”

I bite down on my teeth, balling my hand into a fist under the table.

I am proud to show on the outside that I am keeping my cool, but inside, I feel like I am about to burst. He did it on purpose.

He made sure to invite her to breakfast. He called me out for being late, well aware that I would not be able to reply in a way the pack would respect me for.

He knows I’d never say that I needed to hide my bruises—no one would believe me.

But on asking Clara, she had a perfect answer.

I am sure other pack members spotted her on her way, and maybe even saw her train.

She isn’t even a warrior. Jordan just asked her to train a little with the gamma, so she can learn basic self-defense, because he has plans for her.

Clara is a young woman, nineteen, a beautiful brunette.

I know her; she is the daughter of one of the elite warriors, his only daughter, whom he dotes on a lot.

She is spoiled, but nice. Jordan has made sure to parade her around at his side, pretending to mentor her, while in reality, he has been courting her.

The worst part about it is that Clara gets along well with the pack members.

She has a lot of friends here; she is popular.

A sweet and fun girl, if a bit na?ve, but it adds to her charm.

A charm I don’t have, never had.

Full of energy, Clara starts to dig into her breakfast, all the time chatting and being her bubbly self.

I don’t even think she fakes it. It’s who she is.

For her and her family, it obviously means an awful lot that the alpha pays her so much attention.

Maybe they believe she is on the run for a high rank.

They might not understand what Jordan is truly doing, that he is looking at her in a way a mated wolf shouldn’t look at another person. I am not sure if her parents would be so eager to hand her over to the alpha as a potential sidepiece.

My headache is returning.

To keep up the pretense, I stay at the breakfast table until the first, ranked members stand up to return to their work. It’s then that I take the opportunity to escape, too. I put my cup down. “Excuse me,” I say while standing up. “I will go ahead and leave you to your business.”

Clemmens gazes briefly at me, but doesn’t say anything. Jordan, however, scowls. “The elders expect you in my office in an hour. You are still not with child.” He looks at me like I am a piece of trash on the side of a road. “It’s your duty to produce an heir.”

I try to keep my shoulders straight and my gaze firm when I look at him. “I am well aware,” I say. “I will be talking with them, Jordan.”

I refuse to call him by his title, and I know it pisses him off, so does my cold attitude. I know he prefers when I break down and cry, like I used to. I begged for his attention and for his love, but he doesn’t have any to give.

“Rosy,” Jordan takes my hand into his. “You have made me the happiest man alive by being my mate.”

I feel my cheeks heat up. Rosy. No one has ever used a nickname for me. Out of respect, the pack members always used my full name, and my parents emphasized that it makes me more dignified to be called Rosea.

Dignity and respect. Mom keeps repeating it over and over, saying that when I am luna I’ll need to rely on these two attributes more than on any other.

I have always taken my parents’ lessons seriously.

I studied for top grades, and then at home, I studied even more.

The pack deserves me at my best after all, but in front of my mate, I can be myself.

“You are so silly,” I say when he wraps his arms around me.

His arms are strong, easily enveloping me.

I am not a small woman. I am tall, coming with the typical traits of an alpha-blooded child.

I am neither cute nor pretty, but I know how to dress and how to present myself.

My mom is a very elegant woman and taught me everything I need to know.

Jordan, however, treats me like I am sweet and delicate, and it just makes my heart flutter.

Jordan twirls me around. “Well, I can’t help it when I am with my beautiful mate.”

I chuckle. “You are still being silly. I am not beautiful.”

“You absolutely are. All eyes are constantly on you when you are somewhere. They don’t call you the Icy Beauty for nothing,” he smirks. “But I know how adorable you truly are.”

I hate the term Icy Beauty; sometimes they call me the Ice Princess.

I don’t even know when it started, maybe when I began high school.

I refused to date anyone from my pack, giving me the reputation of being picky, while I truly just wanted to avoid any drama.

My parents approved of my decision, and even said that the nickname isn’t too bad, better than many others that could have been picked

Maybe my parents are right; I don’t know, but I don’t like the distance it puts between the pack and me.

“Wait, Rosy, I have something for you.”

He lets go of me and hurries outside again, while I wait patiently—or rather not so patiently—for what he is bringing me. When he returns, he carries a huge bouquet of flowers. “When I saw them, I thought about you,” he says.

I am stunned. No one has ever given me such flowers. They are blue roses. He thought of me when he bought them. The ultimate romantic gesture.

Blue roses. Funny how I think about them now. Back then, I thought Jordan was being so romantic, but blue roses are artificial; they are not real. That’s exactly how he always viewed me: an ornament, a necessary tool to reach his goal of becoming alpha.

And I fell for him like an idiot. Now, all I have left is my dignity, or the remainder of it.

On top of that, he has the pack’s elders on his side.

They never truly approved of the way my father led the pack.

It was easy for Jordan to win them over.

Their new shtick is to keep demanding an heir from me.

It will never happen, Alora says grimly.

Obviously not. I will never bring a baby into this situation.

I don’t like this, Alora says.

I know he is your mate, and you want to—

That’s not it. He could drop dead if it were for me. But we are of alpha blood, Rosea. We should do something. How long do we want to stick it out here?

I frown. I am working on my exit plan. You know that.

Yeah, but Jordanhole is getting more dangerous every day. Last night he strangled you, and you were unconscious for minutes. He is losing his patience.

You think he wants to get rid of us? I ask.

You don’t?

I do, but how? I am his fated mate. He can’t just get rid of me that easily. Although technically, he could make it look like an accident. I shake my head. No matter how he does it, it will always look suspicious on him.

What if he doesn’t care anymore? Alora says. The pack is behind him. He has the support of the elders and the pack’s money. Good thing he doesn’t know of your inheritance.

She is right. It was the only smart decision I made. Shortly before Dad died, he called me to him. He was weakened, yet the doctors weren’t able to find anything. He told me he made sure I had a safety net. Said safety net consisted of all his private wealth. He also advised me to keep it a secret.

I wonder if back then he was already wondering if something was off. Maybe he didn’t suspect Jordan, but I wouldn’t be surprised if his gut feeling told him to be careful.

I didn’t want to keep my inheritance a secret, but when Dad died, I was so struck with grief that I didn’t think about it anymore. And once it came back to my mind, Jordan had already begun to change.

Or rather, to take off his mask.

“Luna?”

I turn around when I hear a whisper behind me. There is a young woman with a tray in her hands, her eyes scanning the area behind me frantically. “You have barely eaten. Please, I just baked this.”

“Thank you,” I say, looking at her thoughtfully. She is young. A sweet girl—just joined the kitchen staff. “Sophie.”

“You… you know my name?”

“I know all your names,” I say.

I also know that Jordan sleeps around with the omegas and the staff, but that she isn’t one of them.

“You should leave, Sophie. It’s not safe for you here.” I reach out to touch her shoulder softly. “Thank you.”

She smiles at me before she turns around and hurries away. I keep my eyes pinned on her until she disappears, ingraining her name and her face in my brain.

I guess, in reality, Jordan does not have the whole pack behind him. But does it matter when he has everyone with rank and power supporting him?