From Slave to Queen, Yet Never His Luna

Chapter 8 not to believe

The palace was unnaturally quiet.

I helped Mya Elder lie back on her bed, my hands trembling as I held hers. Her heart had fluttered under the strain of the marriage talk; panic made my chest ache.

She hold my hands gently, her smile soft but tired.

“Don’t be afraid, Nina. I’ll always be here with you.”

She said she wanted to arrange a mate for me—a reliable man to protect me when she was gone.

I understood. She was getting older. She was afraid that once she left this world, I would be defenseless again.

I drew in a long breath, pressing down the swell of gratitude and sorrow.

“I only want to stay with you, Mya Elder.”

I pressed my cheek against her wrinkled, warm palm.

Three years. I had seen too much, survived too much.

The parents and brother who raised me had vanished overnight.

The man I once adored had stood by, cold as stone.

Love? I had already learned not to believe in it.

Mya heard the refusal hidden in my voice and only sighed softly.

I stayed with her until she fell asleep, then slipped quietly out of the room, still feeling the ghost of her warmth against my skin.

Under the frost-laced laurel tree, a familiar shape waited.

Laura murmured at my side:

“It’s Lily. She’s been standing there a long time. Do you want me to send her away?”

I stared at the slim figure in the courtyard, my gaze like ice.

Laura knew I didn’t want to see Lily.

And yet she had come herself.

If she hadn’t broken the Moon Chalice, would I have suffered like this?

Why did she think I would even speak to her?

I walked past without a glance, heading straight to my own chambers.

I had already lost everything—family, love, even my wolf.

Since the exile to the Blood Wash Grounds, the voice of my wolf had gone silent, as though that part of me had died too.

Laura’s footsteps followed. Her voice was tight:

“Princess Lily says she wants to apologize. She won’t leave unless you meet her.”

I pressed my lips together, fists clenching.

In this freezing weather Lily was threatening me.

If she fainted outside, I would be the one blamed.

“Let her in,” I said coldly.

Snow whispered against the windows as I sat, rubbing ointment onto my frostbitten hands. Each winter the scars felt like fire under my skin.

Lily entered, reaching for the jar to apply it herself.

Her expression was sweet, eager to please—but in her eyes a flicker of triumph.

I pulled my hand back and said with a thin smile:

“Why aren’t you in your own palace? Why come here?”

Her eyes glimmered with practiced hurt. Her voice was soft, false as spun silk:

“Nina, it was my fault back then. If I hadn’t broken the Moon Chalice you wouldn’t have been exiled to the Blood Wash Grounds, turned into a slave. If you can forgive me, I’ll do anything!”

She acted so well—tearful eyes, trembling voice, as though sincere.

I said nothing, letting the silence press down on her.

Lily’s face stiffened at last.

Then I spoke:“Do you think what you did wrong was only breaking the Moon Chalice?”

She stayed mute.

Cold air slid into my lungs; my heart iced over.

I fixed her with my stare.

“You’re the true princess of Silver Ridge Pack—I accept that. For fifteen years I lived in your place, basking in the family’s love. So when you first came back from the Wildlands, I felt guilty. I wanted to go home, but Alpha Marcus told me my parents were dead. I wanted to treat you well. And you?”

My voice sharpened.

“Lily, did I ever hurt you?”

Her eyes reddened; tears spilled.

I felt like punching a pillow—no resistance, no weight.

Lily always did this. She never answered; she only cried.

If the Pack saw her like this, they would think I was the bully.

Because of these tears, Liam had kicked me from the Moon Tower.

Because of these tears, I had been condemned, exiled to the Blood Wash Grounds, enslaved for three years.

And I had done nothing. Nothing.

Rage surged up and I seized her wrist, forcing her to meet my eyes.

“Lily, tell me—why did you hurt me? Why did you frame me?”