《Luna Rising: The Abandoned Omega Queen》

Beneath the Surface

Pain still throbbed under Vesper’s ribs as she sat upright in the silk-draped bed, propped against a dozen pillows. Her body ached, but her spirit burned hotter than ever. The wound had nearly killed her—but instead, it lit a fire in her veins that nothing could quench.

Damon stood at the window, shirtless, his back rigid with tension. The morning sun bled through the glass, catching the dried blood that had crusted on his skin. He hadn’t left her side in three days, and it showed. The beard shadowing his jaw, the bruised crescents beneath his eyes—they all whispered of his guilt.

"Who was it?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

He turned slowly. "The assassin wore a servant’s uniform. We’re still interrogating the staff. No one has claimed responsibility."

"Then they’re either dead… or waiting to strike again."

He walked toward her and knelt beside the bed. "I failed you. Again."

"Stop saying that," she snapped. "Start doing something about it."

Damon looked up at her, eyes gleaming like storm-lit oceans. "I already am. The Council has been suspended. Lyra is under arrest and has confessed to collaborating with the scent-masking alchemist. They're awaiting formal trial."

"She confessed?"

"Under oath. Before the Moonstone."

That was no small thing. The Moonstone was sacred—its glow revealed truth and punished liars.

Vesper exhaled, the tension in her shoulders loosening for the first time in days. "Good."

"There’s more," he added. "While you were unconscious, emissaries from the Northern Territories arrived. They heard about your healing abilities and came seeking aid."

Vesper frowned. "Why would they come to me?"

"Because the Red Plague has returned there. You’re the only known wolf who’s ever survived it."

She froze. Memories of fevered nights, her skin aflame, the hallucinations of her mother’s voice coaxing her through it—flooded back like poison.

"They need your help, Vesper."

"They need a miracle," she whispered.

Damon clasped her hand, surprisingly gentle. "You don’t have to decide now. But if you do go… I’m going with you."

She gave him a long, unreadable look. "Why? To protect me? Or to watch me?"

"To fight beside you."

Her chest tightened, but she said nothing. Outside, the sound of boots echoed down the marble corridors—palace guards moving in formation. Change was coming. But whether it would bring healing or more bloodshed, only time would tell.

—

By midday, Vesper was walking again, albeit slowly. With each step, her strength returned. As did her mind.

She requested access to the archives—a massive underground library where every decree, law, and lineage was stored. Damon reluctantly agreed, sending two guards to escort her.

The doors creaked open, revealing rows upon rows of ancient scrolls, glowing glyphs, and dust-laced tomes. She scanned the section marked "Lineage: Alpha-Blood."

She wasn’t just hunting history. She was hunting proof.

Hours passed. Her fingers stained with ink, eyes red from reading. Until finally, she found it—a ledger entry dated thirty-two years ago:

"Subject 12: Omega female. Rescued from the Forsaken Border. Immune to Red Plague. Presumed dead after experimental bonding trial. Name unknown."

Her breath hitched.

That was her mother. It had to be.

She flipped through the related pages until she reached a redacted document—most of it blacked out, except for one name in the margins:

Vespera.

Her full name. Not just Vesper. Vespera Moon.

Tears burned in her eyes. They had erased her history. Hidden it. Used her mother. Used her.

"You bastards," she whispered.

One of the guards peered in. "My lady?"

She slammed the book shut. "Get me Damon. Now."

—

An hour later, she confronted Damon in his war room, parchment still clutched in her hand.

"You knew!"

He turned from the map of the Northern Plague Zones, his expression unreadable. "I suspected. I wasn’t sure until now."

"You should have told me."

"Would you have believed me?"

"It wasn’t your choice!"

He stepped forward. "You’re right. I should’ve told you the truth. About everything."

Her voice dropped. "My mother died in one of your ‘trials.’ And now you want me to return to the land she was taken from and heal the wolves that let her die?"

He said nothing.

"I’ll go," she finally said. "Not for them. Not for you. But because I refuse to let another girl grow up wondering who she is."

Damon nodded. "Then we leave at dawn."

Vesper stared at him. "And Damon?"

"Yes?"

"If you lie to me again, I will burn this entire kingdom down."

He didn’t flinch. "Understood."

She turned and walked out, her spine straight, her steps steady. There was a war coming. And this time, she would fight on her own terms.

But as she exited the war room, a shadow moved behind the curtain. A hooded figure, cloaked in gray, watching.

He pulled out a silver coin engraved with the mark of the Forsaken.

The true enemy was stirring.