The Forgotten Luna Let Me Go Mr. Ex

Brielle’s p.o.v The midnight silence of the Alpha’s estate wasn’t comforting—it was suffocating. The grand halls, once intimidating and awe-inspiring, felt empty. Like me. Jasonhadn’t come home again. For the fifth night in a row. I stood by the bedroom window, clutching the thin cardigan wrapped around my shoulders as the icy air seeped through the cracked panes. The pack had held another celebration tonight—one I wasn’t invited to. I knew Celeste had been there, though. She always was, smiling sweetly while clinging to Dylan’s arm, who in turn looked at her dotingly. Despite so many years of marriage, he hadn’t looked at me like that since the day we married. I turned away from the window and glanced at the divorce papers sitting on the desk. The bold letters of my name and his were like a final slap. My fingers brushed the edge of the page, trembling slightly. After four years of being his Luna, of waiting for him to see me, this was my reward. “You never loved me,” I whispered to the empty room. My voice cracked under the weight of the truth. The papers in front of me trembled under the weight of my hesitation—or maybe it was the trembling of my hands. The bold black text seemed to mock me: ‘Divorce proceedings papers.’ I skimmed over the words I didn’t need to read again, my stomach clenching tighter with every flicker of ink. Four years of loyalty and humiliation, all condensed into a neat stack of legal jargon. At the bottom of the last page was my name in fine print, right below Dylan’s. I clutched the pen tightly enough to crack it. Dylan’s scent still lingered in this house—a cruel reminder of how things used to be. Or maybe I was clinging to an illusion that had never been real. In this grand estate, where the air should have felt alive with power and security, all I’d known was loneliness. And tonight, he wasn’t coming back. Again. However, just as I was reeling over the spilled water, a knock at the door pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. “Luna.” Greg, the pack’s beta, bowed his head slightly as he stepped inside, not meeting my eyes. It wasn’t out of respect—just pity. He pointed to a small box in his hand. “This arrived for you.” “For me?” Greg placed the box on the desk and nodded, retreating before I could press him further. He’d always acted like he pitied me, the unwanted wife of an Alpha too proud and distracted to care. Tonight, that pity grated more than usual. In a flash, I opened the box. Inside was a bracelet—a delicate silver chain with a blue gem dangling from it. The moment my fingers grazed the metal, memories flooded in. My father’s deep laughter. My mother’s gentle hum as she sang lullabies. And then—chaos. Screams. Fire. The taste of blood. I yanked my hand away, my pulse pounding. The bracelet felt like a stranger’s possession, but I couldn’t ignore the familiarity clawing at the back of my mind. At the very bottom of the box, tucked beneath the velvet lining, was a folded letter. The handwriting was unfamiliar, bold, and elegant, but the words chilled me to the bone. ‘We are waiting, Brielle. It’s time to come home.’ My grip tightened on the box as I wondered where it came from. Moments later… The wind carried the icy bite of midnight, tugging at my coat as I stood at the edge of the forest. The box with the bracelet sat heavy in my bag, a weight I couldn’t ignore. I didn’t know why I brought it with me, just like I didn’t fully understand the compulsion driving me toward the unknown. This wasn’t just about leaving Dylan. It wasn’t even about my pride or years of rejection. This letter—the words burned into my mind—had reignited something buried deep within me. “Time to come home,” I murmured under my breath, the phrase tasting foreign yet familiar. Lost in thoughts, a deep growl snapped me from my thoughts in a split second. My feet froze as golden eyes emerged from the shadows, glowing like fireflies. A wolf stepped into the moonlight, sleek and massive, its fur black as night. I staggered back. This wasn’t one of Dylan’s. I wrinkled my brow. On the contrary, the wolf circled me slowly, its presence more commanding than threatening, though I knew better than to lower my guard. My breath came quick and shallow as it stopped a few feet away Before I could even blink, the wolf shifted. A man stood in its place, tall and imposing, his silver-streaked hair catching the faint glow of the moon. His piercing eyes bored into mine, and though his face was unfamiliar, something about him sent a shiver down my spine. “You’ve kept us waiting, Princess.” His voice was deep, smooth, and carried an edge of authority that brooked no argument. ‘Princess?’ My mind raced. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “You will.” He stepped closer, reaching into his coat to produce a medallion—a symbol etched into it, ancient and intricate. “Your bloodline has never forgotten you. But the question is… have you forgotten us?” Saying that a flash of heat burned through my veins as I stared at the medallion. The edges of my vision blurred, the world tilting on its axis. Voices whispered in my head, faint but persistent, calling my name. And then, everything went dark. Shortly after, I regained consciousness. I discovered I was no longer standing in the forest. Instead, I was lying on a soft surface, warmth curling around me like a protective cocoon. The room was vast and unfamiliar, the ceiling arched with gold and silver lattice. It looked like something out of a storybook, too grand and opulent to be real. I sat up slowly, my head pounding as if it had been split open. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, calming and soothing despite my confusion. “Ah, you’re awake.” The voice startled me, and I turned sharply. It was the man from the forest, though now he was dressed in regal attire—a tailored black coat lined with fur and silver embroidery. “Where am I?” My voice was hoarse, my throat dry. “Home.” He smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. “Or at least, where you were always meant to be.” “I don’t—” My words faltered as he stepped forward, extending a hand. “You don’t need to understand everything yet, Princess. But you will. The Winterblood Dynasty does not forget its heirs. And you… Brielle, are our lost treasure.” His words felt impossible to grasp like sand slipping through my fingers. “Princess?” I echoed, shaking my head. “There must be a mistake.” I thought internally. The man’s silver eyes softened with an understanding that unnerved me. “You feel it, don’t you? The pulse of power in your blood? The memories clawing to the surface?” He gestured toward the bracelet still clutched in my hand. “You would not have kept that if you were not ready.” My mind rebelled, cycling through every reason why this couldn’t be true. I was nobody—just a discarded Luna from a loveless marriage. But the truth was, something deep within me stirred. It wasn’t new; it had always been there, hidden under layers of suppression and survival. My dreams had whispered it, my instincts had nudged at it, but I’d always ignored them. Now I can't. “Why now? Why come for me now when you had all this time?” My voice cracked, laced with both accusation and fear. His expression darkened, and he took a step closer. “Because your accident stirred the bloodlines. You wouldn’t have survived otherwise.” “What accident?” I stared at him, baffled. The man frowned. “The fall from the cliff near the packlands. You should have died from the impact, but your Winterblood magic woke to heal you.” He hesitated. “I expected you’d remember.” ‘The accident.’ My mind flashed back to that night—the pain, the water pulling me under, and then… nothing. I’d thought it was luck that I’d been found. Now, this man was telling me my survival had been something more. “I don’t—” My voice wavered, but he raised a hand to stop me. “You don’t need to accept it yet. But you cannot deny it.” He gave me a faint smile. “We will take it slowly. There is time, Brielle. Time for you to rediscover who you truly are.”