Beneath the Moon's Betrayal

The poison tasted like mint tea. Susan Blackthorne, Luna of the Silver Moon Kingdom, tried to lift her head from the silk pillows, but her body wouldn't respond. Seven years of marriage, seven years of devotion, and it all ended with mint tea and paralysis. "How much longer?" Lycan's voice drifted from the doorway. Her husband. Her mate. The Alpha King who'd sworn eternal devotion under the moon's witness. "Twenty minutes, maybe less." That voice—sweet as honey, sharp as glass. Susan's eyes widened in recognition. Ellie. Her stepsister. Her supposed best friend. "Good. I have a meeting with the council at midnight." Lycan's footsteps moved closer. "Make sure you're gone before then." "You're not staying?" Ellie sounded disappointed. "Why would I? I've watched her fade for six months. I don't need to see the end." Six months. The weakness, the fatigue, the strange symptoms no healer could explain. Susan tried to speak, but only a wet gurgle escaped her lips. "Oh look, she's awake." Ellie's face appeared above her, those innocent blue eyes now cold as winter frost. "Hello, sister. Surprised? You always were too trusting." Susan's fingers twitched against the sheets. Move. Fight. Scream. Anything. "Don't bother," Ellie sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing Susan's hair with mock tenderness. "The thornwood extract makes sure you can't move, can't shift, can't even mindlink. You're completely helpless. Finally." Lycan appeared in Susan's field of vision, his silver eyes showing no emotion. The same eyes that had looked at her with such passion, such promise. All lies. "Why?" Susan managed to rasp, blood speckling her lips. "Why?" Lycan laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Because you were convenient. The right bloodline, the right reputation, the right amount of desperate neediness. The perfect placeholder." "I... loved... you." "I know. That's what made it so easy." He turned to Ellie. "Five more minutes. I need to prepare for the council." "Lycan," Ellie caught his arm. "After this is over..." "We'll discuss it later." He left without looking back. Seven years of marriage, and he couldn't even watch her die. Ellie waited until his footsteps faded before leaning close to Susan's ear. "Want to know a secret? He thinks this was his idea. The poison, the timing, everything. But I've been planning this since we were children. Remember when your mother died? That wasting sickness that came from nowhere?" Susan's heart stuttered. No. No, that couldn't be— "Mother's recipe," Ellie whispered. "She tested it on yours first. Worked beautifully. Though you lasted longer than your mother did. Must be that special bloodline everyone's always talking about." Tears leaked from Susan's eyes, mixing with the blood on her lips. "The best part?" Ellie stood, brushing imaginary dust from her dress. "No one will question it. You've been sick for months. The whole pack has watched you decline. Such a tragedy—the Luna taken too young. Lycan will mourn appropriately, then after a respectful period, he'll need comfort. And I'll be there, like I always have been." Susan's vision blurred. Her wolf, Sera, stirred weakly within her, fading like smoke. “I'm sorry,” Susan thought to her wolf. “I failed us.” “No,” Sera whispered back. “We failed ourselves by not seeing the truth.” "Oh, I almost forgot." Ellie pulled something from her pocket—Susan's mother's necklace, the one that had gone missing months ago. "I'll be wearing this at your funeral. I think mother would have wanted that, don't you?" Rage. Pure, burning rage flooded through Susan's dying body. If she could move, if she could shift, she would tear her stepsister apart. "There it is," Ellie smiled. "That fire you always tried to hide. Too late now, though. Goodbye, sister. Don't worry—I'll take excellent care of everything you're leaving behind." The door clicked shut. Susan lay alone in the darkness, her body failing, her heart breaking. But the rage—the rage burned hotter than the poison, hotter than death itself. “If I could do it over…” The moon outside her window seemed to pulse with silver light. “I would make them all pay.” Her heartbeat slowed. Once. Twice. Please, she begged the universe, the moon, any power that might be listening. “Let me have another chance. Let me have my revenge.” The last beat. Darkness. Then— "Susan! Susan, wake up this instant!" Susan jerked upright, gasping. Sunlight—not moonlight—streamed through windows. Not her marriage chamber but her childhood bedroom. Her stepmother Luna stood in the doorway, face pinched with irritation. "Honestly, Susan, you'll be late for breakfast. You know how your father hates tardiness." Father? But her father had been dead for eight years— Susan scrambled to the mirror. A young face stared back. Eighteen years old, unmarked by time or suffering. Her hands flew to her throat—smooth, no poison damage. Her body felt strong, whole, alive. "What are you doing?" Luna snapped. "You're acting strange." "What... what day is it?" "Thursday, obviously. Now hurry up. Ellie's already at the table, and we have shopping to do for the academy. Your first term at Shadowvale starts Monday." Shadowvale Academy. Where she'd first seen Lycan at a assembly. Where everything had begun. Luna left, and Susan sank onto her bed, mind reeling. She was eighteen again. Seven years before her death, months before she'd even met Marcus. “Sera?” “I'm here,” her wolf responded, but different—stronger, darker, carrying echoes of their death. “We're both here. And we remember.” Everything. The marriage, the betrayal, the poison, the death. All of it. Susan stood slowly, studying her reflection. Same face, same body, but her eyes were different. Older. Harder. "Susan!" Her father's voice boomed from downstairs. "Breakfast!" Her father. Alive. The tears came suddenly, unexpectedly. She'd missed him so much, this gruff, loving man who'd died in a hunting accident just weeks after she'd started at Shadowvale. Or was it an accident? Now she wondered about everything. She dressed quickly—jeans and a sweater, nothing like the careful, modest outfits she used to choose—and headed downstairs. The dining room was exactly as she remembered. Her father at the head of the table, reading his tablet. Luna serving breakfast with practiced efficiency. And Ellie... "Good morning, sister," Ellie chirped, sweet as poisoned honey. "You look terrible. Bad dreams?" Susan stared at her stepsister—fifteen years old, beautiful even then, those calculating eyes hidden behind innocent smiles. "Something like that." "Well, shake it off. We're going shopping for academy clothes today. I want to make a good impression." "You always do," Susan said flatly, taking her seat. Her father looked up, studying her with those sharp brown eyes she'd inherited. "You alright, pup? You seem different this morning." "I'm fine, Dad. Just... thinking about things." "Academy nerves?" He reached over, squeezed her hand. "You'll do great. You're smart, strong, and you've got your mother's spirit." "Speaking of which," Luna interjected, her tone carefully neutral, "perhaps we should discuss expectations. Shadowvale is where young wolves find their place in pack hierarchy. It would be good for Susan to understand her... position." "Her position?" Robert Winters' voice cooled. "I only mean that Susan shouldn't aim too high. Better to find a nice beta, someone stable—" "My daughter can aim as high as she wants," Robert cut her off. "She's got alpha blood from her mother's line." "Diluted alpha blood," Ellie muttered. "What was that?" Susan asked, her voice dangerously quiet. "Nothing!" Ellie smiled brightly. "Just saying you should be realistic. The academy has a social hierarchy, and we're not exactly nobility." "We're wealthy," Robert said firmly. "That counts for something." "Money isn't breeding, Dad," Ellie said with false sweetness. "No offense, Susan, but you're not exactly Luna material." The words hit differently now. Before, they would have stung, made her doubt herself. Now, they just made her smile. "You're right, Ellie. I'm not Luna material." She took a sip of orange juice, noting her stepmother had made her tea—mint tea. She didn't touch it. "I'm something much more dangerous." "What's that supposed to mean?" Luna demanded. "Nothing. Just agreeing with my dear sister." Susan stood. "I'm not hungry. I'll be in my room." "But we're going shopping—" Ellie started. "Go without me. I'm sure you know exactly what I should wear." She left before anyone could protest. In her room, she locked the door and pulled out her laptop. If she had really traveled back in time, she had advantages now—knowledge of future events, understanding of pack politics, awareness of who could be trusted. And who needed to be destroyed. She started making lists. Everything she could remember about the next months. Her father's death—scheduled for three weeks from now. Could she prevent it? The first academy assembly where Lycan would speak—two weeks away. The Lunar Ball where they'd officially meet—six weeks. But first, she needed to understand the players better. In her first life, she'd been naive, trusting, desperate for acceptance. She'd walked into every trap, believed every lie. Not this time. A knock at her door. "Susan?" Her father's voice. "Can I come in?" "Sure, Dad." Robert entered, his expression concerned. "Want to tell me what that was about?" "Just tired of Ellie's comments." "She's young, insecure. Her mother fills her head with ideas about status and hierarchy." "She's calculating and manipulative." Robert's eyebrows rose. "That's harsh." "That's accurate." Susan met his eyes. "Dad, be careful around them. Luna and Ellie. They're not what they seem." "Susan—" "Just promise me. Lock your door at night. Don't eat or drink anything they prepare specially for you. And whatever you do, don't go on that hunting trip in three weeks." Robert sat on her bed, studying her intently. "You're scaring me, pup. What's going on?" Susan wanted to tell him everything, but how could he believe her? Hey Dad, I'm from the future where my husband and stepsister murdered me? "I just... have a bad feeling. Promise me you'll be careful." "Alright. I promise." He pulled her into a hug, and Susan had to fight back tears. She'd forgotten how safe his hugs made her feel. "But Susan, you need to be careful too. Something's different about you today. Stronger but also... darker. Don't let anger consume you." "What if anger is all I have left?" "Then find something more. Anger burns everything, including the person carrying it." He kissed her forehead. "Your mother used to say that revenge is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." The irony of that statement made Susan laugh bitterly. "What if the other person poisoned you first?" "Then you survive, you heal, and you build a better life. The best revenge is living well." But Susan didn't want to live well. She wanted to live to watch her enemies burn. After her father left, she spent the day researching. The academy's systems were laughably easy to hack with future knowledge of passwords and security flaws. She downloaded student records, faculty files, financial documents. Dimitri Silverclaw— Lycan's beta, already graduated but working as a teaching assistant. In her first life, he'd been kind to her, one of the few who seemed to genuinely care. Could he be an ally? Or was his kindness part of the manipulation? Elder Thessaly—the academy's spiritual advisor and the one who performed the mate bond ceremonies. Susan had always thought her a neutral party, but now she wondered. The elder had been present at every major event, had overseen the ceremony that bound her to Lycan. And then there was Lycan himself. The Alpha King's visits to the academy were supposedly random, but Susan could see the pattern now. He came when promising bloodlines were in attendance, evaluating potential mates like a buyer at market. Her phone buzzed—a text from an unknown number. The moon remembers what others forget. Be ready. Susan stared at the message. Someone knew. Someone else remembered. But who?