The Alpha’s Wrong Luna Chapter 02

The Alpha’s Wrong Luna Chapter 02

I waited.

Spring to summer, summer to winter.

Watched that pear tree Darien planted for me with his own hands—sprout, bud, bloom, fruit.

Then wither to nothing, its branches covered in frost and snow.

The thirty-third letter I wrote him finally got a reply.

I opened it, heart full of joy, only to find a few thin words:

“All safe. Lucien, don’t worry.”

So crisp and to the point, it made all my letters full of worry and missing him feel like a joke.

I was pretty hurt.

Stopped writing him out of spite.

But deep down, I knew—the Greywind sanctuary and the Northern territories were worlds apart. And he was an Alpha, knee-deep in blood and battles.

How could he keep up with everything?

Besides, he’d always been a clam. Terrible with words.

When I started writing again, I didn’t send the letters.

Just tucked them into a box. Over a year, I filled it to the brim.

But fate’s a cruel bitch. The second year after Darien left, I ended up as Logan’s Luna through a twist of bad luck.

The Blackrock pack was too powerful. None of us could say no.

His den was so deep, so dark.

Even the vast blue sky, seen from there, shrank down to a small, glowing circle.

Six months later, Darien came home in triumph.

The pack went wild. The howls echoed through the forest all day long, reaching all the way into Logan’s den.

The victory procession passed through Blackrock territory.

Logan came out with a smile to greet them.

Darien was covered in dust, still reeking of the battlefield—cold, grim, and bloody.

He stopped in front of Logan’s sacred grounds, and across the noisy crowd, he looked at me in silence. Stopped dead in his tracks.

That night, Logan found out about me and Darien.

He stormed into my room—first time he’d ever lost it like that.

In his hand were the letters I’d written. The ones he’d somehow dug up.

One by one, right in front of me, he tore them to shreds and threw them into the fire.

The flames licked at the scraps, lighting up his arrogant eyes with a reddish glow.

“I don’t give a damn about what you and Darien had before.”

“You’re bound to me now by blood. You’re my Luna.”

“You don’t get to look at him anymore. You don’t get to think about him. Even if we’re fated to be nothing but bitter enemies, your eyes belong only to me, your Alpha.”

His long fingers traced my face, then pressed hard on my lips, smearing the red of my lipstick.

I bit his finger until it bled.

“Alpha? You mean the Alpha who secretly pines for his Luna’s own sister?”

Logan went rigid at the hit. Then he lost his damn mind.

He trapped me on the bed and pressed down on me.

The taste of blood filled my mouth.

He resented me. Hated me.

Forced my eyes open and made me look at Seline’s wolf bones outside the bed.

“Lucien Moonsong. Let Seline see what you look like now.”

“Does she know how seductive her precious sister is? Shamelessly taking her sister’s place, spreading her legs under her brother-in-law like a common whore.”

Seline’s bones seemed to glow in the moonlight.

The bones Logan had personally fished from the lake after she drowned.

My throat suddenly felt like a hand was squeezing it shut. No sound would come out.

All my chagrin and rage turned to tears, blurring my vision drop by drop.

Logan hated me.

Hated me for ruining things between him and Seline. Hated me for making him live his whole life drowning in guilt over her.

He’d probably wanted me dead for a long time. But he couldn’t bear to let go of my face—the one that looked just like Seline’s.

He kept me trapped in that den.

When I was drenched in sweat, he’d kiss my thin eyelids and whisper to me, gentle as water.

Like he was trying to drag me into the abyss.

“Tell me the truth. You went to the academy that day to bring Seline moongrass soup, right? That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“You must’ve wanted to be a Luna all along—to ditch your low-ranking status—so you put on that pretty red dress and showed up just to tempt me.”

“Lucien, my Luna… if Darien knew how you moan under me, he’d be disgusted.”

I withered away.

Died when I was barely over thirty.

But my bitterness ran so deep that when I woke up, it was back at the very beginning, before any of the pain had started.

I blinked and looked out at the dim lamps.

In this new life, I still had a long, long road ahead.

—