Alpha’s Rancor: His Forsaken Luna

Chapter 10

She stares me up and down, her nose scrunching up. She’s changed so much, she looks as beautiful as ever, and she looks just like her sister would. That fact sends a pang to my chest.

“You have some nerve coming back here after what you did.” She growls, glaring at me.

“How are you?” I choke out, a familiar warmth spreading in my chest.

When Violette died, I was glad it wasn’t Valerie. Valerie and I used to be good friends, she played dolls with me often, we had tea parties under my tent at home, we were best friends. Well, Kill was my best friend, but she was a close second whenever her brother wasn’t around.

“How am I?” She snarls, her stare appearing to get colder the longer she stares at me. “How do you think I am, witch?” She barks, “You ruined our lives, you took Violette from us.”

“I—”

I don’t know what to say. I feel like I’m staring at Violette herself. Valerie was always the nicer one, she was always the soft twin who smiled at everyone, but there’s not a glimpse of her anywhere.

“She was all I had, and you knew that,” she hisses, grabbing my arm with the same force that Killian did. “You knew it, and you still ended her life.”

I wince, trying to break free, but she doesn’t let go. “Ouch, Valerie!”

“You don’t deserve to breathe in the same room as him.” She tells me, her claws digging into my arms.

“Valerie, stop,” I whimper. “You’re hurting me.”

“Good,” she grins. “Let it hurt, witch! You should never have come back! You should be in hell with your father and not her.”

“Valerie…”

“Killian can’t kill you because of that damn bond, but I can.” She twists my arm, “I will get rid of you, you will beg me to kill you by the time I’m done with you.”

Her claws are starting to hurt, they’ve burned through my skin, and she's not letting go. “Stop,” I finally push her away, using all my strength.

Valerie tumbles backwards, flying into a wall.

And f**k my luck because Killian walks in right at that very moment, glaring daggers at me. This family seems to have a penchant for glares. Killian stares between us, “What the hell is going on here?”

“This witch—” Valerie begins, trying to come at me again, but Killian takes her hand, checking her for injuries.

“What are you doing here, Princess?”

“I wanted my maid, but I ran into this murderous bitch.”

“Go,” he tells her. “She’s not worth your time.”

Valerie huffs, “I will not accept her as my Luna, Killian. You can’t make her our Luna.”

“She isn’t,” he tells her, his eyes on me. “This little runt is nothing but a nuisance. Ignore her,” he says, turning his attention back to her. He gently caresses her head. “Didn’t you just get your hair done yesterday? Why are you messing it up for her?” He frowns, giving me a nasty side eye that Valerie mirrors.

Valerie’s gaze meets mine again, “This isn’t over, witch.” She warns, walking away.

She’s hardly out the door when Killian turns to me again. “What is it with you?” He frowns, “What is it in your blood that won’t let me have any peace?”

“She came to me.” I snap.

“And so?” He pauses. “Is that enough reason for you to try to kill her? Are you trying to kill my last blood sibling?”

“She attacked me!” I choke out, showing him my bruised arm, but he doesn’t even bother to look down at it. “Why are you mad at me? I did nothing wrong,” I swallow, trying not to cry. “She pulled my hair, she kicked me, she was the one hurting me, and all I did was push her.”

“Don’t touch my sister.”

“So I should just let her rag doll me?” I frown.

He shrugs, “Seems fair enough. Valerie has to live the rest of her life without Violette, and whose fault is that?”

Mine.

Anyone around here will say the same, but I don't think that it’s my fault.

“Exactly,” he nods. “You should get cleaned up now, the house manager will be here to give you your duties, she’s in charge of the maids.”

“My what?” I pause, I heard him the first time, the second time too, but now, I’m questioning my hearing. Maybe I have dirt in my ear from when I fell into that grave. “I’m not your maid, Killian.”

“You don’t have options, Raelynn.” He counters, his tone mocking.

I stomp my foot, realising too late that it makes me seem like a damn child. “That’s not fair.”

“You want options?” He raises an eyebrow, slowly stalking me. With each step he takes towards me, I take one backwards, until I’m against the wall. “I’ll give you options.” He smirks, the act sending a chill down my spine. “You are a criminal, a runaway, and you can either be my maid, or a prisoner.’ His smirk deepens. “What? Don’t like those options?” He frowns, “Okay, here’s another one…” he trails off. I look down just in time to see him draw his blade and bring it to my neck. I gasp when I feel the steel tracing my skin. “You can be executed like your father.” He says, staring down at me with a sickening glint in his eyes as he watches the blade slide on my skin.

“You’re proud of that?” I sneer. “You killed an innocent man, and you are proud of it?”

“I rather enjoyed it,” he sighs. “You have no idea the satisfaction it brought me slicing him open. Your father was far from innocent, his crimes—”

“None,” I counter before he can speak again. “He had no crimes,” I swallow, wary of the blade against my throat. “And I would rather die than live as your anything, Alpha Killian.”

“Execution it is?”

For a moment, we just stare at each other. The excitement he derives from seeing me scared infuriates me. I wrap my hand around the blade and pull it from his hand, not caring that I’m holding the sharp end. I feel like I’ve lost everything already, my dad, my mom, my freedom, my siblings, who I will not see without his permission?

It snaps something in me. The blade nicks my hand, but it doesn't cut skin deep or draw blood. “You don’t deserve the satisfaction of taking my life,” I tell him, bringing it to my neck. “I’ll slit my throat myself.”

Killian steps back. Something unfamiliar flickers in his eyes as they widen. “Drop it,” he commands.

“You want me dead, right?” I ask. “Let me help you.” I softly say, pressing it deeper into my skin. When you’ve been bitten a few times, you learn to bite too. “I love to help assholes like you.”

“Raelynn,” he warns, his voice sharper, deeper. “Drop it.” He repeats, but the command falls on deaf ears. I don’t yield like I’m supposed to.

“Why?” I push.

“I will not have you taint my expensive dagger with your blood.”

Ouch.

That stings.

It’s enough to drag me back to my senses, and I let the blade fall. He watches it and his face furrows, staring down at me like he could snap my neck, and when his hand wraps around my throat, I think he’s going to do it. But instead, he leans into me, inhales sharply and slides his tongue over the wound. “Don’t do that again, little storm.” He whispers, his breath warm against my skin, but his tone is chilling still. “Pretty girls scar easily.”