RETURN OF THE BANISHED LUNA

DAPHNE The sitting room smelled of expensive perfume, something that had never belonged to me. I carried the tray carefully down the hallway, balancing the teapot and biscuits with the practiced stillness that came from years of learning not to spill, not to stumble, or to give my stepmother a reason to complain. My stepsister, Thelma, reached over and swiped a biscuit from the tray, causing the porcelain to rattle. "Finally!" She took one bite and then spat it directly onto my dress. "Too sugary." She tossed the biscuit back onto the tray, and I remained still. "You're trying to bloat me before the ball, aren't you?" Veronica, my stepmother, didn't look up. She never did unless Thelma was practically trying to end my life. She was examining the hem of a dress the seamstress was preparing for Thelma to wear to the ball that night. "Set it there," Veronica said, gesturing vaguely toward the side table. I set the tray down. "The neckline is still too high," Veronica told the seamstress, tilting her head. "It should sit lower. She has a beautiful collarbone. There's no reason to hide it." Thelma preened under the praise, smoothing her hands over the gown's waist. At nineteen, she had inherited her mother's sharp cheekbones and, somehow, an even sharper tongue. "Do you think the burgundy or the ivory?" she asked, keeping her gaze on mine even though she was speaking to her mother. Veronica tapped one finger against her lips. "The burgundy. The ivory washes you out. You want him to notice you the moment he walks through the door." Him. My chest tightened at the word, the way it always did when they talked about him. He was supposed to belong to me, but right now every young woman in the pack was vying for the same position. I began pouring the tea quietly, keeping my eyes down. "The Hargrove boy was asking about you yesterday," Veronica continued, accepting her cup. "I told him you'd be attending tonight. You should keep your options open." "I don't care about the Hargrove boy. I only want the Alpha Prince, not some high-ranking Gamma." Her mother sighed dramatically. "Then let's make sure you're unforgettable." I picked up the tray and began stacking the used napkins, my movements exactly as steady as they had been before. I had learned that stillness was the only armor I owned. I moved invisibly, the way I had learned to move through this house since the day my father, Beta Edward, died and left me at Veronica's mercy. "Daphne." I stopped. Thelma called out to me, her arms folded across the bodice of the gown, her head tilted with a wicked glint in her eyes. "You never answered my question. Which do you prefer?" I knew this game. I'd played it before and lost every time. "The burgundy," I said simply. "It suits you." Her smile sharpened. "Of course it does." Her gaze drifted to the dress hanging in the corner, a plain grey thing her mother had picked out for me. "Not that you'd know much about what suits a person." "Thelma," Veronica said mildly, though there was no real rebuke in her voice. "I'm only being honest." She stepped closer to me, and I resisted the instinct to step back. Her eyes dropped to my neck, and her brows knitted together. "What is that?" My hand moved before I could stop it, my fingertips brushing the chain resting against my throat. "Nothing." "It is not nothing." She reached toward me. "Let me see it." I stepped back. "It's mine, and you have a lot to choose from." I pointed at the jewelry trays. The seamstress went still. Veronica set down her teacup. "I beg your pardon?" Thelma's eyes narrowed. "I said it's mine." My voice was quieter than I'd have liked it to be, but it held. I watched her eyes widen in shock before indignation quickly followed. She had never been refused by me before. Never imagined I was capable of it. "Show me," she demanded through gritted teeth. She took a step toward me, and I took one back. My fingers closed around the pendant. "Daphne." Veronica's voice was soft. That was always the warning. A small voice. "You have a home because of this family. Clothes on your back. Food in your stomach." She tilted her head, her eyes cool and steady on mine. "Don't make me regret my generosity." "Thelma wants to see the necklace, Daphne." Veronica's tone remained calm, perhaps because the seamstress was still in the room. "There's no need to be mean to your sister." I almost choked. Me? Mean? Unbelievable. "It was a gift," I said. Veronica's expression didn't change, but her eyes cooled noticeably. Thelma's jaw tightened because she knew. She had always known who had given it to me, and it had always bothered her that Harry would rather speak with me. "It'll look ridiculous on you tonight anyway." She pointed toward my dress with obvious disgust. "You're wearing that. Besides, he won't even remember. It's been four years. And if he does, he'll probably thank me for not letting his money go to waste on that." "No." I repeated it more firmly this time. "No." Thelma laughed and turned to her mother. "Daphne." Veronica rose from her seat and smoothed her skirt before crossing the room. "Give me the necklace." "But—" "It will be returned to you." She said it so easily, but I knew it was a lie. "Tonight is important for this family, and I will not have you causing a scene over a piece of jewelry. Do you understand?" My throat burned. I wanted to tell her that I hadn't caused a single scene in this house in years. That I'd carried trays, pressed shirts, and swallowed every insult without flinching. That this necklace was the one thing in this house that had been given to me freely by someone who had seen me. And still, I was expected to surrender it because Thelma had decided she wanted it. But I knew better than to say any of it. Slowly, I reached up and unclasped the chain. Thelma took it from my palm without a word and fastened it around her own neck. Veronica stepped forward and adjusted it with two fingers, settling it against her daughter's collarbone as though she were completing something that had always been meant to be hers. "There," Veronica said. "You see? Beautiful." She tilted her head, admiring her daughter. "It was made for you." My wolf whimpered at the loss, clawing at the inside of my chest so hard that I had to breathe through it. I picked up the tray and left before they could see the tears gathering in my eyes. ** In my room, I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed my palm against my chest where the necklace had once rested. I didn't let myself cry immediately. I sat with the silence first, feeling the exact shape of what had just been taken from me. I remembered the morning so clearly that it ached. The way Harry had fumbled with the clasp because his hands had been shaking slightly, though he would never have admitted it. The way he had smelled. The way he had looked at me after he fastened it, as though I were the only thing in the world he was certain about. A sharp breath left my lungs as I wondered if I was holding onto false hope. Four years was a long time for someone to change. I pushed the thought down quickly. Harry was the Alpha Prince and future leader of Ashveil Pack. The boy who had spent most of our childhood with me. Even after my father died, he had never left me. He had stayed because, as he once put it, I was the only person in the pack who didn't treat him like a title. I had worn the necklace beneath my dress every single day since he left. Today, I had worn it openly because I was finally going to see him again, but I now realized what a mistake that had been. I leaned my head back against the wall. He had promised me more than a necklace that day, after we shared our first kiss. I'll come back for you to claim you properly when the time is right. I won't leave you here alone forever, Daphne. It's a promise. I had believed him, and I still did. I had held onto those words every day since he left. I had to. Carefully wiping away my tears, I took a steadying breath. His promises were all I needed. I wouldn't let this family break me. So I stood and began to get ready. ** By early evening, Veronica and Thelma had transformed. Thelma descended the staircase in her gown, her hair swept into an elegant coil, my necklace gleaming at her throat. Veronica wore a deep green dress, immaculate as always. They looked like the family my father had thought he was building when he married her. Graceful and respectable. As for me, I had done what I could. My dress was what it was—pale, simply cut, with none of the embellishments Thelma's gown carried. I'd pinned my hair back as neatly as I could and pressed the dress twice to smooth the creases from the skirt. I wore no jewelry. But I was going. Nothing Veronica did would keep me from that ballroom tonight. "You look acceptable," Veronica said when she saw me. Acceptable. That was the highest praise she had ever given me. "Remember what I said. Smile and be polite. If anyone asks, you're grateful to be a Harold." Her eyes lingered on mine long enough for the warning to settle. "Everything you have comes from this family, Daphne. Don't forget that." I forced the corners of my lips upward. ** By the time we arrived at Ashveil Palace, the moon was almost out. Jazz music seeped through the mansion, and every window was lit. Every gate stood open. Cars wound slowly up the drive as guests arrived to welcome home the Alpha Prince. Wolves from the finest families in the region moved through the entrance in elegant clusters, already exchanging conversations and smiles. I fell into step behind Veronica and Thelma as we entered. The glances found me immediately. Assessing. Judging. I was used to it—the way eyes landed on you and slid away when they found nothing worth holding onto. A girl in a plain grey dress with no jewelry and no escort. I kept my chin up anyway. The ballroom had been beautifully decorated for his return. Thelma leaned toward her mother and whispered something. Veronica nodded, already surveying the room and taking stock of every person worth knowing. I stepped away from them, needing a moment to breathe. Suddenly, the conversations in the room began to fade. One by one, heads turned toward the entrance. My heart climbed into my throat. And then I saw him. Harry. He was broader now. Taller. Stronger. Gone was the sixteen-year-old boy who had left four years ago. He looked every bit the Alpha Prince in a perfectly tailored suit that probably cost more than everything I owned combined. For a moment, I didn't recognize him, and the thought terrified me. Four years. What if I didn't know him anymore? What if he didn't— Then my eyes found his tie. A red tie with fine navy thread woven through it. The one I had spent months saving for. I had taken on extra chores around the house just to afford it, and I still remembered wrapping it badly, the paper crooked and the ribbon too short. He had laughed when he saw the wrapping, then gone completely quiet when he opened it. He had told me he loved it. And he had made a promise right then. I'll wear it when I come home. Then you'll know I came back for you. The doubt I had carried for four years slowly dissolved as I watched him smiling with my cheap tie around his neck. A tear pricked my eye, but I blinked it back, a breathless smile breaking across my face. I was finally going to be free once we were married. He would save me. His eyes swept across the crowd, searching, until they finally locked onto mine. The world went quiet. My body suddenly felt strange, as though it didn't belong to me. My wolf surged forward so hard that I had to press my feet into the floor to stay still. She wanted to get to him at any cost. Mate. The word echoed in my ears, and I saw his eyes glow briefly. I could practically see the bond floating in the air. Barely able to control myself, I lifted my hand to wave. Then the people around him gave way. A gorgeous woman stepped beside him, looking breathtaking in a royal blue dress that hugged every curve. Without a hint of hesitation, she slipped her manicured fingers through his arm. My hand froze in midair. She rose gracefully onto her toes, leaned into him, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Worst of all— He didn't pull away.