Mated to the Demon Luna

I stared forward, never letting my expression shift as the whip laid across my back. With each 'crack' I could hear Father's ragged breathing, he had been at it for about a half hour. "Why couldn't you just perform as the Alpha commanded!" He roared, laying another strike across my shoulders. I shuddered slightly as the burning traces of silver raced through my bloodstream slowing any healing. I said nothing, because he really didn't want to hear anything I had to say. "You have only one rule, do as you're commanded! This is your own fault, Yuna. If you can't serve, you don't deserve to be fed, clothed, or housed!" He cracked the whip down again. I grit my teeth and close my eyes against the pain. Soon he'd grow weary and he'd leave me alone for a while to heal slowly. He might leave me here for a while after I refused to kill again, but I couldn't kill the innocent. No matter how hard the Alpha tried to force me. "This is your last chance Yuna, if you refuse to perform again we will lock you in the dungeons for the rest of your life. Maybe you'd serve your pack better as a breeder." My father spat, throwing the whip to the ground. I refused to wince at his threat, it wasn't the first time he threatened to throw me out to any male who wanted to produce an heir. It was no secret that I was the strongest she-wolf in the pack, though I wasn't graced with any designated rank to go with it. My parents were the pack Beta's, but I would never be granted the honor of bearing that title. My younger brother was the cown-beta so to speak, he would be turning 18 in less than a year and he wasn't particularly working hard to take his position. He even refused to attend the usual Alpha and Beta training that occurs after graduating from high school. It was particularly embarrassing since the next Alpha-to-be had already left. Without the bonding time between alpha and beta, it could leave the pack dynamics messed up. But what did I care? I was probably not going to live to see the next Alpha's ascension. Once father was gone I struggled to my feet. I heard him lock the basement door, so I would be here for a while. No one would come for me, if any pack members cared enough they had no power to stand against the Alpha or my Father. This was a pack of war, those who could not fight served, and those who could not serve bred if they were women. If they were too weak they'd be killed, sacrificed to some god I neither knew nor cared to know. It was not the Moon Goddess, but some other entity they prayed to, desperate for bloodshed and victory. As I contemplated my life I crawled my way over to the pile of pillows and blankets that were waiting to be washed. I didn't care that they were dirty or that my bare flesh was covered in thick fresh blood. I knew my wolf would heal me, even if slowly. For now I only wanted the relief of sweet sleep, I only wished it could be permanent. This was the norm here at the Blood Moon Pack. Of course, it wasn't always normal. The current Alpha had a bone to pick, a bit of a short man's ego from what I've heard other's say. He was the youngest son to his parents, with two older brothers and one older sister. He had a lot of expectations on him as a child, but he was never expected to be Alpha to this pack. He couldn't stand the adoration his eldest brother Kyle received, nor could he tolerate his second-eldest brother Jake, who happened to be mated to the Beta's son Daniel. It was a house of cards, and the Alpha knocked it all down one by one, killing anyone and everyone who stood in his way. He killed his parents, his siblings, the Beta's, Delta's, Gamma's, head Warrior's, all of them. Those who lived were fiercely loyal and capable of the same level of evil as the Alpha. In fact, he no longer carried a name other than Alpha. He had decreed upon his ascent that for a man as powerful as he, there was no other name to call him by. So he erased his history, his lineage, his identity, and was reborn simply as Alpha. I was born after all of this happened of course, and as a small child I had no idea anything within the pack was amiss. The warriors slaughtering other packs was simply... Normal. We celebrated each victory with lavish banquets and parties, every face I saw was always smiling and cheering as if we had done something great. But as the years passed I began to see the faces of those conquered, the anguished and malnourished faces of the women and children barely surviving. Their sons, if they weren't killed, were sworn to Alpha and forced to fight. I can vividly remember the day I realized that this pack was built not on pride or honor, but on agony and violence. When I turned twelve I was thrown into the training program for warriors, my Father had insisted I came from strong worthy stock and I'd prove useful to Alpha. The first few months were brutal with countless broken bones, cuts, bruises, no matter how hard I fought I was always up against someone stronger. It didn't help that they started me against teenagers closer to sixteen, their mass alone was enough to overpower me. But as the beatings grew more violent I had to unlock a part of myself I had never experienced before, a part of myself that was equally violent. Full of rage, hate, and desperation. The day it happened I recalled standing on the practice field with the Head Warrior's son Thomas staring me down. He had a few scars on his face already from the battle's he'd fought in for the pack. He was 18, and I was 15 at the time. He considered himself to be the best, and my father told me if I didn't beat this boy he'd kill my one and only friend Lindsey. Lindsey was a war orphan being raised as an Omega, though her bloodline was full of strong Beta's and Alphas. I knew the Alpha was raising her as a breeder, too cautious to give her the skills or knowledge to kill or defend herself. When the fight with Thomas started, I didn't have my heart in it. I was afraid of him, and I had only just gotten my wolf. I wasn't accustomed to my new strength or instincts. When the fight began he quickly slashed my face and torso with half-shifted claws. I would have tried to forfeit, but I saw my Father holding Lindsey by the back of her neck. I can recall my wolf surging to the surface with a strong desire for violence. The next time Thomas approached I felt the searing fiery pain of my body taking on a half-shifted appearance. I grabbed him by the chin and slammed him into the ground, without even thinking my fangs sank into his throat. I was about to rip his throat out when my Father ripped me away, throwing me across the field. "You wanted this." I had growled at him, Thomas's blood still dribbling down my chin. I hadn't even noticed that my Father had killed Lindsey anyway. That was the first real beginning to my abuse, the kind that escalated from emotional or mental. Father hated that I easily overpowered the strongest Warrior cadet, but he and my Mother quickly realized they could use my strength to buy themselves prestige. They forced me to bind myself to Alpha as a personal warrior, someone who was little more than a puppet. I smiled as I felt my consciousness drifting. Even after the Alpha had bound me to him, I could still resist some orders. It hurt so bad I thought I'd die from it but when it came to killing women or children, I just couldn't. I'd rather greet the goddess than become a complete monster. I just hoped that when I was finally let out again... Maybe something would be different. Maybe someone would have discovered what Alpha had been doing, and they'd finally tie him up at the Lycan King's execution pole. But... I knew when I was daydreaming. Nothing would change, I'd just have to keep trying to survive.