His Warrior Luna

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

As he said those words, I was confused. His eyes bore into mine, red meeting red, making me feel exposed. Like he could see straight through to my soul.

So I backed away, clutching his jacket tighter around me. My wolf was throwing an absolute fit, howling MATE, MATE, MATE, so loud I could barely think straight.

“Shut up!” I snapped at her. One identity crisis at a time, please.

“I have to go,” I managed to say, though my voice shook embarrassingly.

The stranger — massive, dangerous, absolutely gorgeous (stop it, brain!) — just watched me with those intense red eyes. Like he knew exactly what I was going to do.

I ran.

Or well, I tried to. Turns out running through a forest at night while fighting your own wolf is not the smartest move. I tripped over what felt like every root and branch, my wolf deliberately messing with my balance as she tried to turn us back toward Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Dangerous.

“He's OURS!” she insisted.

“He's a complete stranger!” I hissed back. “And in case you forgot, we're having a crisis here!”

Behind me, I could hear the search parties getting closer, their voices carrying through the trees.

“The red wolf went this way!”

“Don't let it escape!”

“Use the silver nets!”

My wolf kept trying to turn back toward the stranger. “Mate,” she insisted. “Safe.” But my human side knew better. Nothing was safe anymore. How did everything go so wrong so fast? Yesterday I was heir to the Silver Pack. Now I'm being hunted like a criminal.

A root caught my foot and I went down hard, the stranger's jacket tearing on a branch. The fall knocked the wind out of me, and before I could get up, flashlight beams cut through the darkness.

“There!” Beta Robert's voice rang out. “Surround her.”

Silver Pack hunters emerged from the trees, moving with military precision. I recognized some of them — wolves who used to bow to me just hours ago. Now their faces twisted with disgust as they looked at me.

I tried to shift, to fight, but everything felt wrong. My wolf's power surged uncontrollably — one moment too strong, the next not strong enough. I managed to throw two younger guards back when they got too close, but my triumph was short-lived.

The burning bite of silver caught me off guard. Beta Robert had thrown a net, the silvered ropes searing my skin on contact. I screamed, the sound coming out as a half-human, half-wolf howl.

“Careful with that,” Beta Robert ordered as the hunters moved in. “Alpha Jason wants her alive.”

“Alpha Jason”. Not father, never father again.

They dragged me back through the forest, the silver chains burning with every step. Pack members lined the path to the mansion. These people smiled at me yesterday. Bowed to me. Now they look at me like I'm a monster. Was any of it ever real? Their whispers following me like poison.

“Look at those red eyes…”

“They say red wolves are cursed…”

“Keep the children inside…”

Former servants scurried away as we passed, avoiding my gaze. Only Grace, my old nanny, watched with tears in her eyes before someone pulled her back inside.

Movement on the main balcony caught my attention. Eliza stood there, wearing my ceremonial crown, her face a perfect mask of false concern. But I saw the way her lips curled slightly at the corners. She was enjoying this. That crown was supposed to be mine. Everything was supposed to be mine. But it was all built on lies, wasn't it?

The hall was packed when they brought me in. The entire pack council sat in their formal robes, with Alpha Jason and Luna Alice at the center. Elder Margaret's ancient eyes watched me with a mix of pity and resignation.

They forced me to my knees, the silver chains ensuring I stayed down. My torn ceremonial dress — the one that had cost more than most wolves made in a year — was now little more than expensive rags.

“Clara.” Alpha Jason's voice was ice-cold. Not a trace remained of the man who had once checked under my bed for monsters. “You stand accused of deceiving this pack. Of claiming privileges and status not rightfully yours. Of endangering our bloodlines with your… impurity.”

I wanted to scream that I hadn't known. That I'd believed the lies as much as they had. But my throat closed up around the words.

“Furthermore,” he continued, “your red wolf form presents a danger to this pack. The ancient texts speak of cursed wolves who brought destruction to noble bloodlines.” Daddy, please… Please just look at me like you used to. Tell me this is all a nightmare. Tell me I'm still your little girl.

Whispers rippled through the crowd. I caught fragments about prophecies and omens, each more ridiculous than the last.

“As Alpha of the Silver Pack, I hereby strip you of all rank and privilege. You are demoted to omega status. You will serve this pack as restitution for your deception.”

The formal words fell like hammer blows. Each one nailing down the coffin of my old life.

“The accused will wear a silver collar to suppress her wolf's power. She is restricted to servant areas and forbidden from leaving pack grounds without escort.”

Beta Robert stepped forward with the collar. The silver had a dull sheen in the lamplight, marked with etched runes. As he fastened it around my neck, a sharp burn instantly shot through me — a persistent, low-level agony that made my wolf let out a whimper. It burns. Moon goddess, it burns. Is this what I am now? A collared dog?

I was led to a room down in the basement. This new “room” of mine was just slightly larger than a closet. There was a flimsy mattress on the floor and a small, barred window up near the ceiling. The contrast to my former suite was like a slap in the face.

“Better than you deserve, red wolf,” Caroline's voice dripped with satisfaction from the doorway. She and Rebecca stood there, enjoying my humiliation. “Looks like you'll finally learn your place.”

“We'll need our rooms cleaned tomorrow,” Rebecca added with a smirk. “Early. And try to get all the corners this time.”

The next few days passed in a blur of degradation. I scrubbed toilets until my hands cracked and bled. Served at formal dinners where I'd once sat at the head table. Endured “accidental” shoves in hallways and scalding liquid spilled on my hands.

“Oops,” Caroline giggled after dumping her tea in my lap. “Clumsy me. Clean that up before it stains.”

The silver collar was the worst part. It kept my wolf suppressed, but not silent. She raged constantly against the restraint, making my head pound and my stomach churn. The silver slowly poisoned my system, leaving me weak and shaky.

I watched as Eliza stepped into my old life like she'd been born to it. She wore my clothes, used my things, and sat in my place at pack gatherings. The perfect Silver Pack princess I'd tried so hard to be.

Then came that night.

I was finishing up in the kitchen — apparently omegas don't deserve dinner until everyone else is done. My hands shook as I scrubbed pots, weak from hunger and silver exposure.

The kitchen door opened. Eliza sauntered in, followed by several pack members I recognized as her new “court.”

“Still here?” she asked sweetly. “I'd have thought you'd run back to whatever rogue pack spawned you by now.”

I ignored her, focusing on the pot in my hands. Just get through this. Just survive.

“You know,” she continued, circling me like a shark, “I've been thinking. You're still a threat, aren't you? Still that cursed red wolf, even with the collar.”

Movement behind me. I started to turn.

Pain exploded in my skull as something hard hit me. I fell to the floor, ears ringing.

“Hold her down,” Eliza ordered.

Hands grabbed my arms and legs. I struggled, but I was so weak from the collar, from hunger, from weeks of abuse.

“You took eighteen years off my life,” Eliza said conversationally, picking up a kitchen knife. “Let's make sure you never take anything else.”

The first cut drew a scream. Then another. And another.

Bones cracked under precise blows. My wolf howled in helpless rage as they systematically broke us.

“Don't kill it,” someone warned. “The Alpha said-”

“The Alpha says what I tell him to say,” Eliza snapped. “No one will miss one worthless omega.”

Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision. Blood pooled on the kitchen floor — my blood, spreading like spilled wine.

The last thing I saw was Eliza's satisfied smile as she raised the knife again. So this is how it ends. I'm no one, not even as a warrior. Just a broken cursed omega on the kitchen floor.

Then everything went black.