Alpha Duncan’s Luna is a Witch

Reborn of Fire

The volcanic peaks of the Ashlands were a place where nothing should survive. But for Hazel, the heat was the only thing that made her feel alive.

Ten years had passed since the night the Blood-Moon pack house turned into a furnace of ashes along with everything she had, something that should have never happened.

Hazel stood on the edge of a lava pit, her red dress covered in smoked fluttering in the hot wind. She was no longer the pale, fragile girl Duncan had discarded. Her skin was now a flawless bronze, glowing with health. Her face, once soft and round, was now sculpted with high cheekbones and a sharp, elegant jawline.

She was breathtaking and unrecognizable.

"Concentrate, Hazel," a raspy voice called out.

An old woman with skin like cracked leather sat nearby. This was Elda, the last of the Fire-Walkers.

"I am concentrated," Hazel replied. Her voice was no longer a whisper; it was smooth and cold, like silk over a blade.

“Let’s get it done once and for all.”

Hazel sliced a small cut onto her palm. A single drop of blood fell into the swirling lava below.

Whoosh!

The lava didn't splash. Instead, it rose like a living serpent, twisting into the air until it stood ten feet tall. With a flick of her wrist, Hazel commanded the molten beast. It lunged forward, incinerating a massive boulder into fine dust.

"Your blood is the key," Elda said, nodding in approval. "The pain of the past fuels the fire of the present. You are ready."

Hazel healed the cut on her hand with a mere thought. "I was ready the moment I crawled out of the ashes of my coven, Elda. The rest has just been practice."

"And your heart?" Elda asked, peering at her with milky eyes. "Is there any room left for mercy?"

Hazel looked toward the horizon, in the direction of the Blood-Moon Pack. "Mercy is for the weak. Duncan Amari taught me that. I am simply a fast learner."

“And he the teacher had no idea the leaner is already ahead of him.”

She walked back to the small stone hut they shared. She spent her days training and her nights planning. Every detail of the Blood-Moon pack house was burned into her memory. She knew the patrol routes, the weak points in the walls, and the location of the Alpha’s suite.

And the location of… of her innocent babies.

“Duncan Amari, where are my children?” It was a question that is burning inside Hazel. I

Inside the hut, a large silver basin sat on a wooden table. It was filled with enchanted water—her window to the world she had left behind.

Hazel waved her hand over the surface. "Show me the Blood-Moon."

The water shimmered and cleared. It showed a grand celebration. Banners with the wolf emblem hung from the balconies. The camera—a magical vision from a scout—zoomed in on two young boys standing on a podium.

They were ten years old now. They were tall for their age, with the same curly brown hair Hazel remembered. They wore regal black suits, looking every bit like royalty.

"The Motherless Princes," a voice whispered from the vision. "A decade since the tragedy, and still, Alpha Duncan rules alone with his heirs."

“It’s such a pity he can’t seem to want a mother for the alpha heirs.”

“We need a Luna as soon as possible.”

“Without a Luna this pack can never be strong enough to be the best of all.”

Then came another, “The heirs need to be trained well.”

Then, the vision shifted to the man standing behind them.

Duncan looked older. There were streaks of silver in his hair, and the harsh lines around his mouth had deepened. He looked tired, but his golden eyes were still as sharp as ever. He placed a hand on each of the boys' shoulders.

Hazel’s breath hitched. Her blood began to boil literally. The water in the basin started to steam.

"They look just like him," Elda noted, standing behind her. "But they have your spirit. Look at how they stand."

“Gentle boys burn of fire.”

Hazel didn't hear her. She was staring at her sons. Her heart, which she thought was made of stone, gave a painful throb. They were being raised by a murderer. They were being taught to be wolves by the man who slaughtered their mother’s entire race.

"They call them 'motherless,'" Hazel hissed, her eyes glowing crimson. "They think I am ash."

She reached out and touched the surface of the water, right over Duncan’s face. The water hissed and turned into steam instantly.

"It is time," Hazel said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"What is your plan?" Elda asked.

“It’s already time for a return.”

Hazel picked up a piece of parchment—a recruitment notice she had intercepted weeks ago.

'The Blood-Moon Pack seeks an experienced nanny for the Alpha’s heirs. Must be disciplined, loyal, and unafraid of wolves.'

“Because the wolves bite after all.” Hazel missed.

A dark, beautiful smile spread across Hazel’s face.

"The Alpha needs someone to look after his children," she said. "And who better to raise the Princes than a ghost he doesn't recognize?"