Chasing His Multi-identity Luna

Grace’s POV "You were never meant to be born." That’s what my mother said the night she packed her bags—and took my younger sister instead. I was nine. Too stunned to cry. Too used to being ignored. But I still remember the sound of the door slamming. And the silence that followed. I’m Grace Barton, the ‘wolf-less’ girl no pack wanted. At least, that’s what they all think. But I do have a wolf. Her name is Sia. She’s my secret, my curse, and the only one who never left me. Even though I can’t shift, and she only exists in my mind, she’s real to me. No one else can feel her, smell her, or hear her voice—but she’s always there. She’s the only friend I’ve ever had who can’t abandon me. And thanks to her, my senses—especially my nose—are sharper than most wolves'. Twelve years ago, my parents’ marriage shattered. My mother found her fated mate—the Beta of the Blue Moon Pack—after having two daughters with my father. The Beta’s wife had just passed away and who had a son from that previous bond. To make it seem fair, she took a daughter with her as well—though of course, it wasn’t me. She took Emma, the golden child. She left me and said I was too much trouble. My father? He moved on, too. New mate. New kid. New life. No room for the daughter who stayed up all night gaming and never bowed her head. So I was raised by Grandma Mia, far from pack politics. I grew up with dirt on my knees, scars on my knuckles, and a wolf whispering strength into my soul. Until two weeks ago, when Grandma illed—and her daughter Amy, the mother who abandoned me, showed up at our door. My grandmother insists that I must go with her, otherwise she won't go to the Blue Moon Pack to see the healer. So now I was trapped in her car, rolling toward the mansion of her perfect Beta mate and their picture-perfect family. A place I didn’t belong. “If it weren’t for your grandmother’s illness, I’d never have dragged you out of that godforsaken countryside. You know that, right? ” “And let’s not forget you got expelled again last week—for starting a fight with a Gamma’s kid. Do you have any idea what that looks like? Gamma blood is already volatile, but you—” Amy’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles white. “You were supposed to control yourself! In this pack, showing your teeth isn’t just rude—it’s a liability. Especially for someone like you.” “Someone like me?” I laughed, bitter. Sia snarled in my mind, Show her your teeth. Let her see what we’re made of. I ignored her. “You mean the daughter you abandoned? The one you and Dad fought over not taking during the divorce? Yeah, I remember. ‘Grace is too wild, too unpredictable.’” I mimicked her voice, high and shrill. “Funny how Emma was perfect enough to cart off to the Browns, though.” Amy’s scent spiked with anger—sharp, acidic, like burnt coffee. “Don’t you dare bring Emma into this. She’s thrived here because she obeys rules. Unlike you. When I left your father, it was because he couldn’t provide for us—not because of you. But let’s be honest: even he didn’t want a child who can’t control her temper. Who can’t be normal.” Normal, Sia scoffed. Normal is just another word for weak. I stared out the car window, the blur of trees and asphalt doing little to distract me from Amy’s nagging. Her voice buzzed in my ear like a persistent mosquito—sharp, whiny, and impossible to ignore. "The Brown family isn’t some countryside trash heap. No bad habits—got it?" “No slouching at the dinner table. No speaking unless spoken to. And for God’s sake, cover your collarbones—you look like a—” “A s**t?”I tilted my head, rubbing my temple like I could wipe her voice from my brain. My vintage shirt, soft with age, slipped off one shoulder, the fabric carrying the faint, comforting scent of Grandma Mia’s soap. My low-rise jeans clung to my hips, the worn denim shifting as I stretched my legs—long, restless, wild. Let her stare, Sia growled. She’s just jealous she can’t break us. “I was going to say disrespectful,” she snapped, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Her tone was all Beta authority, the kind that made lesser wolves cower. But I wasn’t a lesser wolf. I was barely a wolf at all—not yet, anyway. Let her stare at my “indecent” collarbones. Let her silently judge the way I slouched like I didn’t give a damn. Because I didn’t. I never asked for her approval. Not now. Not twelve years ago when she left. Amy shot another disapproving glance at me, her back stiff in the driver’s seat. My mother. At least, that’s what biology said. But the day she chose the Brown family over me, she stopped being that. "Grace, did you hear me?" Amy snapped. I sighed, half grunt, half exhaustion, and pulled out my black headphones. “Yeah, yeah. No Game Bar. Be like Emma. Don’t embarrass the Beta family.” I didn’t even bother hiding the sarcasm. Beta family. James Brown’s pack. The ones Amy clung to like a lifeline after she dumped Dad—Eric Barton, the “worthless human”. It’s said that my father appeared in our town for unknown reasons, and there wasn’t even a trace of a wolf scent on him. My grandmother saved him, and for some reason, she’s very fond of him. She insists on mating him with Amy. But this clearly went against the will of the Moon Goddess, so my grandmother has always felt guilty for abandoning me. Amy’s lips thinned to a cold, hard line. “This isn’t a joke, Grace. The Browns—your sister—can’t afford your… rebellions. One wrong move and you’ll drag us all down.” I nearly laughed. Drag them down? Like I’d begged to be here. They’re already falling, Sia whispered. We’re just the ones who’ll watch them hit the ground. The car slowed, rolling past iron gates into a sprawling estate. The scent hit me before I even stepped out—perfectly trimmed grass, expensive cologne, and wolves who’d never worked a day in their lives. An omega servant in a crisp blue uniform opened my door. Her gaze swept over my ripped jeans, messy hair, and the faint scar above my eyebrow from a bar fight. Judgment radiated off her like heat. “Madam. Miss Barton,” she said, tone polite. But her wolf was sneering. I ignored her and turned to help Grandma out of the car. Her hand in mine was fragile, her wolf barely present. “Easy, Gram,” I murmured, shooting the servant a glare. Touch her, and I swear— Amy cleared her throat. “Take them inside. I’m picking up Emma.” And just like that, she was gone. The car screeched away before I could mutter good riddance. The servant led us through marble hallways that echoed money, power, and old secrets. I tuned her out. Instead, I listened to the hum of the house. Upstairs, a trace of jasmine and vanilla curled in the air. Emma’s scent. Perfect Emma. The Brown family’s golden girl. The sister who never bothered to call. Grandma’s voice broke the silence. “You’ll be alright here, Gracie.” I forced a grin, shoving the twist in my gut down deep. “Course I will. Let ’em try to break me.” They won’t, Sia promised. Not when we’re breaking them first. Because in the world of wolves, rebels always draw attention— Even the Beta family’s unwanted heir.