Coming Back as Enemy's Luna

32. Drag

= Mikael =

He…really never fails to amaze me.

A part of me had expected him to take my warning seriously.

I don’t know why.

If I were honest with myself, I should have known better. He had never been the type to respect boundaries, much less orders. Still, watching him now, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would actually take for him to understand that I hadn’t been bluffing—that when I told him he was forbidden from setting foot in any gathering after the last disaster he caused, I meant every word.

Apparently, authority alone wasn’t enough.

He stood there like the rules didn’t apply to him, slurring half-formed sentences and breaking into laughter at his own incoherent thoughts. A bottle of alcohol hung loosely from his grip, its contents already disappearing fast as he tipped it back without care, right in the middle of the gathering I had explicitly barred him from.

I was hoping that the noise of the guest would have drowned him out. Even the slight music in the air. But of course, as soon as my dear brother staggered into the crowd, the party was interrupted. Conversations thinned into whispers.

Blood darkened the sleeve of his shirt, soaking through linen that had once been white. His steps were uneven, boots scraping against stone like he was daring the ground to give way beneath him. The sharp scent of alcohol cut through the warm air of the gathering, clashing violently with spiced wine and roasted meat.

I wonder where he drunk himself out.

Gabriel lifted his head and found me almost immediately. His mouth curved into something that might have been a smile if there wasn’t so much bitterness packed into it. Then, his eyes—too bright, too unfocused—locked onto a woman far from me with the precision of a blade finding its sheath.

“Look at this,” he drawled, voice slurring just enough to irritate me. “An enemy and an outsider is allowed in the gathering. But not me!”

I sighed heavily and looked around. He was already getting everyone’s attention. I found a delta at one corner. One look and he immediately knew what to do.

“You are really worthless, Mikael! How could you do this to me?! To my father!” The deltas finally took action to surround him.. But despite Gabriel’s condition, he managed to break away from the attempt of getting hold down by them.

I had slightly expected it already. He wouldn’t be our father’s heir to the position of the next Alpha if he was…weak.

The guests were also trying to warn him. For everyone knew what could happen if I lose my patience, especially Gabriel. Another tried—and failed—to intercept him. My dear brother shrugged them off with a violent jerk of his shoulder, nearly tearing his own wound wider in the process.

I tilted my head slightly, studying him.

Drunk and injured. Furious and very predictable. And where did he get that wound anyway? Did he get himself into another…fight?

“I suppose you think you belong here?” Those words were directed to Amara.

I merely took another slow sip from my glass, as he continued to ridicule her with words that described himself. If he had maintained the distance between him and Amara, I would have stayed put in my place. But…he moved closer to Amara. That’s when I finally made my move and started walking toward him.

“You look so… out of place. Do you even know what you’re doing here? Or are you just a novelty? A joke for the rest of us to laugh at?”

I heaved a deep breath. I had heard this speech so many times I could have recited it for him. Every accusation. Every grievance. Every twisted version of the past he carried like scripture.

“Enough of this Gabriel,” I said as soon as I was in between him and Amara. “This woman will be the future Luna of the Veyrath. You will respect that.”

Gabriel let out a bark of laughter.

“You must be losing your mind, brother!” He lifted his hand and pointed it to me. “After you took everything from me,” he snapped. “The title. The respect. The future I was supposed to have! And this is how you use your power?! Sheltering an enemy?! You’re fvcking stupid!”

I met his gaze calmly, letting him see just how little his words shook me.

Gabriel’s jaw tightened.

That was always the moment that tipped him over—the realization that his rage no longer held power over me.

“I don’t understand why they still let you lead this pack with that level of stupidity,” he spat, his voice loud enough to turn heads. “You had every reason to kill that woman. Every reason. Instead, you let her live—and worse, you made her your Luna.” A harsh, humorless laugh tore from his throat. “What happened to your judgment, huh? Or did you lose that too?”

I lifted an eyebrow.

Nothing else. No denial. No defense. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a single word.

“That mistake alone should cost you your title,” Gabriel continued, working himself into a frenzy. “You’re unfit to lead. So accept my challenge. Stand and fight me, and we’ll see who deserves to be Alpha of this pack!” he screamed, his voice dispersing in the surroundings.

I remained silent.

The quiet stretched on—thick, deliberate, suffocating. It was only the music and murmurs of the guest that could be heard. It crawled under his skin, gnawed at his pride. He hated it more than any insult I could have thrown back at him.

Gabriel’s expression twisted, something dark and unhinged flashing across his face. “Say something, you bastard!” he snarled, stepping forward.

Only then did I move.

I set my glass down on the nearest table, slow and precise. The soft clink of crystal against wood cut through the tension like a blade.

Gabriel flinched.

His hand curled into a fist, knuckles bleaching white as his aura exploded outward—raw, jagged, and poorly controlled. Drink and pain had dulled his restraint, leaving nothing but chaos behind. The air around him crackled with unstable energy, heavy and oppressive.

“You think you’re better than me?” he roared, voice breaking with fury.

I met his gaze, unbothered.

“I don’t think,” I said evenly. “I know.”

Gabriel lunged at me.

He moved faster than he had any right to—faster than someone already injured should have been able to—but desperation has a way of sharpening the body when pride is on the line. His fist tore through the space between us, aimed for my jaw, clumsy and reckless, driven less by skill than by years of festering resentment and self-inflicted misery.

I didn’t even think.

I shifted aside, the movement smooth and instinctive, as natural as breathing. His punch met nothing but air, the force of it dragging him forward as his balance betrayed him. Before he could recover, I caught his wrist mid-swing and twisted hard.

He hissed, the sound sharp and involuntary, pain flashing across his face as it shot up his arm.

“Careful,” I said under my breath, my voice low, almost polite. “You’ll tear that wound open.”

He wrenched himself free and staggered backward, nearly losing his footing. His eyes burned with fury, bright and unfocused.

“Don’t touch me!”

This time, I stepped forward.

I closed the distance he hadn’t been able to cross, forcing him to retreat again, forcing him to feel it—the difference between us.

“For years,” I said quietly, every word measured, “you’ve blamed me for every bad choice you ever made. Every bridge you set on fire and then watched collapse.”

His lips pulled back, teeth bared like a cornered animal. “You think you’re innocent?!”

I didn’t flinch.

“No,” I said calmly. “I think I’m responsible.”

The words landed heavier than any strike.

Confusion flickered across his face, raw and unguarded. He didn’t understand the difference—and that, more than his anger, told me everything.

I leaned in just enough for the space between us to shrink, my voice dropping low so only he could hear it. This wasn’t meant for an audience. This was for him.

“I took what I earned,” I said calmly. “I won fair and square. You and our fatheer couldn’t stop me—even together.”

Gabriel’s breath hitched, coming fast and uneven, like the truth had punched the air straight out of his lungs.

“You were always weak,” I went on—not out of cruelty, but because it was the truth he’d spent his life avoiding. “And instead of doing something about it, you let that weakness rot into resentment.”

His jaw tightened, but his eyes betrayed him. They slid past me, locking onto Amara behind me. I glanced at Amara over my shoulders, her shoulders were stiff, her expression tight with unease, like she already knew she was about to be dragged into something she hadn’t asked for.

Something dark twisted across Gabriel’s face. Possessive. Ugly.

“Is that why she’s here?” he sneered. “Another thing you’ve decided belongs to you?”

I let a slow smirk curve my lips—but I didn’t answer. Words weren’t necessary. Instead, I turned my back on him completely, dismissing him with the kind of finality that hurt more than any insult.

I reached for Amara’s wrist, my grip firm but controlled, grounding her as I pulled her toward me.

Behind us, Gabriel let out a bitter laugh, hollow and sharp. “Running away now?!”

I stopped.

Just once.

Then I glanced back at him over my shoulder.

“Capture him,” I said evenly, my voice carrying across the hall like a sentence already passed. “Put him back where he belongs. And make sure he doesn’t escape this time.”

The order settled into the room, heavy and irreversible.

I didn’t wait to see it carried out.

I tightened my hold on Amara and led her out of the gathering, dragging her with me as we left the people behind us—cutting off Gabriel’s laughter, his rage, and whatever was left of him that still thought he mattered.