Alpha Logan's Vengeful Luna

Trina's POV "Are you sure about this?" my mother asks anxiously as she nervously chews on her bottom lip. "Do you have to go through with this?" She asks for the umpteenth time. A stiff nod. "Yes, I do," I confirm firmly. I have to do this for my father and the pack that we lost. "This is what Dad would have wanted," I murmur. She shakes her head vehemently. "Sweetie, your Dad wouldn't have wanted you to put your life at risk just for revenge. He would have wanted you to heal and live your best life." She grasps my hands and holds them tightly. "Please reconsider." Her amber eyes shimmer with the tears that she's barely holding back. It breaks my heart to see my mother in this condition but I can't do what she's asking of me. Softly pulling my hands out of her hold, I tighten them to fists by my side as my resolve strengthens. "I'll be careful," I promise. Her head is downcast, and her shoulders tremble as the first wave of tears starts. "I can't lose you too," she mumbles weakly. "I wouldn't be able to survive it." My heart breaks into a million pieces as I watch my mother lose the fight in her body. Pulling her into a tight hug, I bury my face into her shoulder. "I'll be back. Wait for me," I promise again before pulling away and giving her a weak smile that is returned with another wave of tears. Turning around, I reach for the doorknob and open the door. Stepping out of the house that I've resided in for the past fifteen years, I walk away from my mother, who has had to raise me all on her own for those fifteen years. She might not want to understand this but I'm doing this for both of us. I've seen her sobbing and whimpering at night in her room when she thinks that I've fallen asleep. I've seen how she seems to redraw within herself and stare into space at certain times of the day. My father's death still haunts her fifteen years later and the only way for us to get closure is to make the people that took him always from us pay for what they have done. Fifteen years ago, my pack, Red Moon Pack, was attacked by Black Stone Pack. They killed my father, the Alpha of Red Moon Pack. My mother had to take a five-year-old me into the human world and raise me all on her own. We never went back to our pack but from what I've heard around, the pack has become a recluse. None of the pack members went back there after the attack and nobody has tried to revive it since then. We have no idea if the attack was a one-time thing or if they will be back for the rest of us. For fifteen years, I and my mother have been hiding away in the human world. I've trained each day in preparation for the day that I can finally avenge the death of my father. Once I've gotten my revenge, I will go back to my pack and build it up from the ground. It might take years for it to go back to the way it once was but I'm willing to put in the work to get there. But first, I need to carry out this revenge and make sure that Black Stone Pack can never harm my pack again. Standing in front of the woods, I stare at the huge thick trees that will soon lead me into Black Stone Pack. It wasn't easy finding out where the pack resided but after asking the right people and paying the right sum of money, I finally got an answer that I hope is accurate. Well...I'm about to find out if they swindled me or not. I walk into the woods, stopping when I get a whiff of a faint and distinct smell. A wolf's scent. Actually from the smell of it, it seems like multiple scents missed together. They're faint but it gives me hope that I might be close. Pressing my back against the bark of a tree, I go over my plan. There's no way that I can just waltz into the pack without getting ripped to shreds. So that's why I came up with a plan that's sure to produce effective results. Looking around, my gaze lands on a huge rock lying on the ground. Smiling, I pick it up and weigh it in my hands. This should do. Biting my bottom lip, I raise the rock over my head and slam it into my skull. Hard. A tear rolls down my cheek as pain bursts through my head. Curling my trembling fingers into a tight fist, I slam the rock into my head again until my vision blurs and my world starts turning on its axis. Then I let the rock slip out of my hand and fall onto the ground. Next, I retrive my claws out of my hands and squeeze my eyes shut as I dig thema into my side and rip out flesh. A soft cry escapes me as the smell of blood fills the air. I do the same for my knees, ripping away the thick material of my jeans along with some flesh. Breathing out through my mouth to get my breathing under control, I fall to my knees with a wince and rub some dirt all over my face and clothing. Satisfied with the distressed and victimized image that I certainly paint, I straighten up and stagger towards the direction of the scents. My head throbs, and my vision blurs, but I force myself to stay strong and drag my feet through the woods, silently praying that my presence will soon be noticed. And also praying that this pack belongs to Black Stone. I'm in a whole lot of s**t if I'm wrong. As I keep walking further through the woods, my spine stiffens as I notice a presence. Someone is following me. Have I been found?