The Nameless Luna Chapter 01

The Nameless Luna Chapter 01

At the airport gate, I watch the scanner flash red when I try to board.

Mom turns around and glances at me.

“Oh, you. When I was booking the tickets, I suddenly couldn’t remember your name, so I forgot to buy one for you. Just get yourself another ticket.”

I force myself to smile and nod.

Ever since Esther was brought back six years ago, I, the adopted daughter who was mistakenly switched at birth, have become a transparent person in this family and pack, someone who is not even worthy of having a name.

Because Esther says my name originally belongs to her. Every time she hears it, she has a breakdown, gets sick, and threatens to end her life.

From that day on, I no longer had a name to them. I was only “you,” “hey you,” or “oh, you.”

I open the ticket app, but all flights to Orlando within the next three days are sold out.

When I look up again, Mom, Dad, and Esther have already disappeared into the crowd.

I send a message in the family group.

[Mom, Dad, I can’t get a ticket. How am I supposed to meet up with you?]

No one replies.

An hour later, Esther posts a selfie in the group.

Mom immediately responds: [Where did this celebrity come from?]

Dad sends a flower emoji.

My Alpha mate, Stephen, transfers thirty thousand dollars to her, with the note: [Esther’s travel fund.]

No one replies to my message. No one cares whether I can make it to this Disney trip or not.

I close the ticket app and open my email.

Inside are two offers.

One is from the Warrior Program of the local Black Moon Pack. The other is from the Royal Pack’s Warrior Program in the far north.

I finally make up my mind and hit SEND.

…

The windows and doors of the house are tightly shut, making the air inside feel thick and suffocating.

I drag my suitcase up to the attic of the pack house and grab the bottle of water on the table, drinking several gulps.

The creaking electric fan blows a small wave of cool air toward me.

The tiny attic is less than five square meters. It is freezing in winter and unbearably hot in summer. With a ceiling height of only one and a half meters, I can only move around while bending my back.

This is the only space in this house that belongs to me.

The day Esther was brought back to the pack, she broke down in tears when she saw my room.

“I had to sleep in a tiny room with thirty other people at the rogue orphanage, but the room that was supposed to be mine is occupied by someone else.”

Mom and Dad spent the entire afternoon comforting her.

Then they asked me to give my room back to her and stay in the attic for a few days. They promised that once Esther accepted me, I could move back and share the room with her.

I believed that as long as I was obedient enough and waited patiently, I would eventually become part of this family again.

But what I got in return was losing even my own name.

The next morning, I take my identification documents and the bloodline records I secretly took from my parents’ room to the pack elders to apply for my departure from the pack.

If I am leaving, I want to leave completely.

The process of obtaining the pack separation certificate takes one week, which happens to be the day they return from their trip.

I wake up early and go to the supermarket to pick out the freshest ingredients, preparing a proper farewell dinner for them.

After this, I probably will never see them again.

The sound of the front door opening echoes through the house.

At that moment, I walk out of the kitchen with the last dish.

Esther glances at the food on the table, covers her mouth, and rushes into the bathroom.

The next second, the sound of her vomiting fills the room.

Mom shakes her head at me, “Esther gets carsick and can’t eat such greasy food. Go make her some pumpkin soup.”

“Okay. You and Dad can eat first.”

“We’re not eating either. Esther can’t stand strong smells right now. If you want to eat, take your food to the kitchen.”

I look down at the blisters on my fingertips from being burned while cooking, but I say nothing.

Half an hour later, I bring the pumpkin soup I made into Esther’s room.

When I come out, Mom hands me a small gift bag, “We brought you a gift from Disney.”

Inside is a crystal ball with a little mermaid figure.

My eyes sting slightly.

Because this is the first time in six years that Mom remembers me.

As I walk past Esther’s room, I hear her talking on the phone with her friends.