Chapter Six: Rise of the Rogue Luna
766 Words
Selene stood before the cracked mirror in the corner of her cabin, her reflection half-hidden by shadow and moonlight.
Her fingers traced the scar on her shoulder—the one left by the rogue bite weeks ago. It hadn’t faded, but neither had the memory.
> I almost died.
But I didn’t.
He threw me away. But I refused to stay broken.
Her reflection no longer looked like a girl who’d been waiting for a mate.
She looked like someone who had nothing to lose—and everything to become.
---
At dawn, she was already in the training field, sparring.
Nyra approached, raising an eyebrow. “You’re early.”
> “I was already awake,” Selene replied, blocking a strike with swift precision.
“Couldn't sleep?”
> “Didn’t need to.”
They fought in silence, staff against staff. Selene’s movements were faster now, cleaner. Her form, once desperate and shaky, had turned fluid—like her wolf was slowly rising through her bones.
Mid-swing, Nyra lunged harder than usual. Selene reacted without thinking—ducked, swept low, twisted, and disarmed her.
The staff clattered to the ground.
For a moment, both women stared at each other.
> “You’re ready,” Nyra said, chest rising. “Not perfect. But ready.”
> “Ready for what?”
Nyra stepped back, wiping sweat from her brow. “Command.”
Selene’s breath caught. “You want me to lead?”
> “No,” Nyra said. “You already do. They follow you. They watch you. Every time you stand back up, you give them permission to believe in something again.”
> “I didn’t ask for this,” Selene whispered.
> “Power never asks. It just waits for you to claim it.”
---
That night, a horn sounded—low, deep, urgent.
Selene rushed to the war tent, heart steady.
Kane, the head scout, was already rolling out the map. “Supply convoy spotted. Three wagons. Headed to the Nightfang border fortress.”
Selene flinched slightly at the name, but her voice remained calm. “What’s the cargo?”
> “Weapons. Medical packs. Possibly communication devices.”
> “Guard detail?”
> “Minimal. Probably a routine run.”
Nyra looked at Selene. “You know those routes better than any of us.”
Selene stepped closer to the map. She traced the dotted line through the trees.
> “They’ll pass the Ridge of Howls just before dawn. Narrow space. Hard to maneuver. We strike there. In and out.”
Lira eyed her. “You volunteering to lead?”
> “No.” Selene looked up, eyes blazing. “I’m claiming it.”
---
The forest was thick with mist when they set out.
Five rogues, dressed in silent black. Selene led them like a shadow—calculating, calm, fearless. Her senses were alive. Her wolf, no longer silent, padded alongside her spirit.
When they reached the ridge, the air was still.
Selene raised her hand. The group dropped low into position.
Then… wheels creaked through the trees.
Three wagons. Four guards. One of them young, yawning. They didn’t expect an ambush.
Selene gave the signal.
Two rogues moved in first—silent as breath. One guard fell, knocked out cold.
The second drew a blade—but Selene was faster. She struck with the hilt of her knife, sending him sprawling.
The third reached for a horn—Selene hit him with a dart laced with sleep serum. Instant collapse.
Only one remained.
He turned, face contorted with panic.
Selene stood before him, eyes glowing faintly gold.
> “You don’t want to do this,” she said quietly.
He hesitated—then dropped his blade.
---
They returned to the camp before dawn, three wagons in tow.
When the gates opened, rogues gathered.
They stared.
And then… they cheered.
Not just for the supplies. Not just for the victory.
For her.
Selene.
The girl who had walked into their camp bloodied and voiceless.
Now, she stood tall. In command. Unbroken.
Nyra walked up beside her.
> “How does it feel?”
> “Like a beginning,” Selene murmured.
> “You’ve got a fire in you,” Nyra said. “Use it right, and they’ll follow you to hell and back.”
Selene scanned the crowd. Some smiled. Some nodded. Even the skeptical ones bowed slightly.
And for the first time…
She didn’t feel like a rejected mate.
She felt like a Luna.
Not because she was chosen.
But because she chose herself.
- Writer
