Coming Back as Enemy's Luna

9. Silence

= Amara =

I kept waiting for Mikael to return.

When night settled over the territory and the quiet pressed against the walls of my room, I found myself glancing at the door again and again—hoping he would appear the way he had before. But he didn’t.

I almost asked the doctor if she knew where he’d gone. But I bit my tongue. I had no right to ask… not when I didn’t even belong in this place.

The next morning, hope still clung to me like a stubborn shadow. A part of me believed he would come walking through the doorway, that I would finally get the chance to tell him my proposition—my deal—before everything became more complicated.

But he never showed.

Maybe he had more pressing matters to attend to. He is an Alpha, after all. And with that title comes a mountain of responsibilities I can’t even begin to imagine.

Days slipped by quietly, and my wound slowly knitted back together. The doctor reminded me—strictly—to stay inside my room and not wander off. I obeyed. Not because I liked rules, but because deep inside I knew she was right. Stepping outside could stir trouble I wasn’t prepared to face.

This room… for now… was my fragile sanctuary.

Somewhere along the way, I developed a routine.

Each morning, just before the sun began to rise, I would drag myself out of bed and stand by the window. The sky shifting from indigo to gold felt like the only constant thing I could hold onto. I watched the forest stretching endlessly into the horizon—wild, foreign, untouched by anything I had ever known.

It was my quiet way of grounding myself, of reminding my racing mind that I truly was in a different territory. This wasn’t home. This wasn’t anything close to the life I once lived. Everything here felt unfamiliar, from the scent of the wind to the silence beneath the trees. And the worst part was the tightness in my chest—the anxiety of knowing I was surrounded by strangers in a place where I didn’t understand the rules.

But nothing was as terrifying as one undeniable truth: I wasn’t just an outsider here.

I was an enemy.

What would they do if they discovered I came from the Gravemire Pack? What would become of me then?

I couldn’t help but wonder though—do the nurses know? Do the doctors? Does the Alpha of Veyrath himself also know?

Of course he does. Who am I kidding? There’s no point in asking questions I already know the answers to. He never said the name of the pack I’d betrayed, but he didn’t have to. One look at me and anyone with half a brain would know I came from Gravemire.

The truth hangs around me like a storm cloud—heavy and impossible to ignore.

My gaze drifts to the right, landing on the mirror mounted on the wall. I hesitate, then gather the thin fabric of the hospital gown between trembling fingers. Slowly, carefully, I tug the neckline down until my left chest is exposed.

There it is.

The mark… once vibrant, once proud… now looks like an old memory fighting to stay alive. The gold and white ink, once bright enough to catch light in the dark, has dimmed into faint streaks. Fading. Withering.

A symbol of status. A symbol of belonging.

A Luna. Or—supposedly—the future Luna.

The mark first appeared the day Elias claimed me as his mate. At the beginning, it was only a pale shimmer beneath my skin, thin threads of white ink curling into the shape of a crescent moon. His pack’s symbol rested inside it.

As our bonding ceremony drew closer, the mark grew clearer… deeper… almost alive. The edges sharpened, the gold brightened, and every line pulsed with meaning.

But pack marks are living things.

And when you become an outcast—when you are cast aside or when you run—the magic rejects you faster than the wolves ever could.

So it fades. Quickly. Cruelly.

This mark was more than enough to betray where I came from. Anyone with the slightest knowledge of pack politics would recognize it instantly. Honestly, it was a miracle my head was still attached to my body after everything that happened.

And yet, the question kept creeping back in, stubborn and unsettling.

Why is Mikael still letting me live?

I drew in a slow, steady breath and tugged at the loose neckline of my hospital gown, smoothing the thin fabric as if that could calm the tightness in my chest. My gaze drifted back to the window, to the quiet scenery outside—the muted sky, the swaying tops of pines, the world that continued spinning even as my own felt suspended.

I really needed to stop spiraling. There were a hundred reasons Mikael could’ve killed me the moment he realized who I was, but he didn’t. For now… I should be grateful. Grateful that he hasn’t decided to end me. Grateful that I’m still breathing.

And I would keep breathing. I would make damn sure I stayed alive, because I still needed the people who wronged me to fall into despair for what they did to me. Especially Sera.

After all, Gravemire pack is Veyrath’s nemesis.

A sharp knock on the door jolted me out of my thoughts. I flinched, pulling myself back into the present.

“Your breakfast is here,” a familiar voice called from the other side.

I turned quickly. The door swung open at the same moment, and the person who had been bringing my meals stepped into the room. It was a woman—young, maybe a few years older than me—with warm brunette hair that fell loosely over her shoulders, brushing against skin the color of sun-kissed bronze. Light freckles dotted the apples of her cheeks, softening a face that otherwise carried a quiet heaviness. Her hair was down today, but the first time I saw her, it had been pulled into a tight knot that revealed the small mark behind her ear: a broken circle. The unmistakable symbol of an omega.

I still didn’t know her name. She never offered it, never spoke more than necessary. She moved like a shadow, as if the only thought occupying her mind when she stepped into this room was to deliver my meals and disappear. Maybe that was what she was trained to do.

“Thank you,” I said, giving her the same gratitude I always tried to offer.

As expected, she didn’t nod, didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t even let her eyes lift to meet mine. The tray touched the table with the softest clink, and then she slipped out the door without a sound—like she hadn’t been here at all.

And just like that, silence settled over the room again, thick and familiar.

I exhaled slowly, turning back toward the window, watching the world outside move on without me. I wondered when Mikael would return—if he even planned to. It’s not like I was a priority. I knew that much.

Another long breath escaped me, heavier this time. Then I sat down and picked up my utensils, forcing myself to eat my breakfast in the quiet that clung to everything in this place.