THE WORTHLESS LUNA THEY BURIED

Four

One evening, we were back in Sloan's private training room. He came at me with a flurry of blows, a test of speed and reaction. I ducked, feinted left, and used his own momentum to hook my foot behind his knee and send him stumbling. My fist stopped a hair’s breadth from his throat.

He froze. Then, a slow, genuine smirk spread across his face. “You’re becoming dangerously skilled, Angeline. It’s a waste to keep you limited to my pack’s back rooms.”

He stepped into my space, so close I could feel the heat from his body. His hand came up, and his fingers traced the line of my jaw, a whisper of a touch that sent an unexpected, electric tingle down my spine. I held my breath.

“But this look,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “This innocent, wounded-doe look. It doesn’t fit the weapon you’ve become. And it won’t work when you step back into the world. When they see you.”

I pulled back slightly, my heart doing a strange, uneven beat. “What are you suggesting?”

“A makeover. Your wolf’s awakening altered your aura, your features are sharper. Now we alter the rest. Your appearance, your style. You need to level up.”

That was another beginning.

The long, honey-brown hair I’d always kept simple was sheared into a sharp, chin-length bob, dyed a deep, auburn. The soft, modest clothes were replaced by tailored suits in black and charcoal, dresses that hinted at curves but promised knives. A makeup artist taught me how to line my eyes to look like a predator’s, not a prey’s.

The change wasn’t just outside. My walk straightened, my gaze stopped dropping. I stopped asking and started stating. The timid Angeline was buried deeper than that coffin. In her place was someone with ice in her veins and a calculated fire in her eyes.

Three years later, I was beyond anything I, or anyone else, could have expected.

My face was rarely in the society pages, a deliberate mystery Sloan helped cultivate. But my impact was everywhere. I sat across from seasoned Alphas and cutthroat moguls, striking deals that expanded Sloan’s company – Eclipse Empire by billions. When a partner in the Silver Fang pack tried to double-cross him on a land deal, I was the one who delivered the evidence—and the quiet, legal ultimatum that broke them. I didn’t raise my voice. I just showed them the cliff and watched them jump.

I became the hidden backbone. The ghost in the machine. Sloan named me his Chief Operating Officer, the first female COO in the nation to wield such power in a werewolf-led conglomerate. The business world was stunned. The pack world was wary. The Alpha King himself sent an honorary citation after I orchestrated the neutralization of a rogue Gamma faction terrorizing the northern borders. They called me one of the greatest female Gammas in a century.

They also started calling me something else.

One morning, I sat in the sunlit living room of Sloan’s penthouse, now as much my space as his, sipping black coffee. A smirk played on my lips as I watched the financial news on the large screen.

“...and once again, the prestigious ‘Visionary in Leadership’ award will be accepted on behalf of the elusive winner, the COO of Eclipse Empire, by Alpha Sloan Neeson…”

The camera cut to Sloan on the red carpet, looking immaculate and utterly bored in a black tuxedo. Reporters swarmed.

“Alpha Neeson! Is the Mysterious Apex Queen of Ravenfall finally going to grace us with her presence tonight?”

“Why do we never see her? Is she a secret?”

I loved the title they’d given me. The Mysterious Apex Queen. M.A.Q. It suited the myth I’d become.

On screen, Sloan didn’t even break stride. He looked at the reporter who’d shouted, his green eyes flat. “She’ll show up when she wants to.” His tone left no room for argument.

The cameras flashed, but no one dared press further. A flicker of warmth, of something dangerously close to affection, touched my chest. I found him appealing, even with that hardcore, untouchable look.

I switched the TV off.

Sloan returned just after noon. He tossed the heavy crystal award onto the sofa beside me. “Another trophy for the ghost.”

“I’ll add it to the collection,” I said, not looking up from my tablet.

He stood over me. “You’ve changed well, Angeline. Exceeded every expectation I had in the last three years.”

I simply smiled, a small, closed-lipped thing. It was a smile that held secrets.

“Don’t you think it’s time you showed up now?” he asked, his voice intentional, probing.

I put the tablet down, picked up the award, then let it drop back onto the cushions with a shrug. “Maybe?”

His eyes narrowed, giving me that look—the one that demanded more, that saw through every layer I’d built.

Before I could answer, the door to the study swung open. Silas, Sloan’s Beta, a man with a permanent worried frown, hurried in. He gave a quick, respectful nod to both of us.

“Alpha. My apologies. He’s seeking an appointment again. Very persistent.”

Sloan didn’t turn. “Who?”

“Alpha Chad Marlow. Of the Black Dawn Pack.”

The air in the room didn’t change. The sun still streamed through the windows. But inside me, Gia erupted. A violent, snarling surge of fury that made my fingers tighten imperceptibly around my coffee cup. I kept the shadow of a smile on my face, taking a slow, deliberate sip. The rich, bitter taste grounded me.

Silas continued. “He’s formally asking for a personal appointment tomorrow. Something about financial backing and a potential partnership. He’s been trying for weeks.”

Sloan finally waved a dismissive hand.

Silas bowed and left, closing the door softly.

Sloan turned his gaze back to me, watching me like a fascinating puzzle. “I don’t know if this will interest you,” he said, his tone casual. “But Chad wants my help. His pack’s finances are reportedly in a precarious state. Bad investments. He’s desperate.”

I set my cup down on the saucer with a precise click. “Wow. You shouldn’t make things hard for him, Sloan.” My voice was sweet, syrupy with false sympathy. “Just grant him the appointment. Don’t stall the poor, struggling Alpha any longer.”

I looked up and saw the tiny flicker of skepticism in his eyes, quickly masked. Then I let my real smile show—the one that was all sharp edges and cold promise.

I stood up, smoothing the lines of my black trousers, and walked to the magnificent floor-to-ceiling window. The city of Ravenfall sprawled below, a kingdom I now moved through like a queen in the shadows.

“I think the time is right,” I said, my reflection in the glass showing a woman who was no one’s victim. “Time to give my ex-husband a dose of his medicine.”