Be My Luna

4

Winter’s POV

“Moreover, he wants you to apologize to him,” my father continued, his words like poison sliding into my veins.

I froze, then let out a hollow, broken laugh. “Apologize? For what exactly? For him to tear my husband’s throat out in front of me? Or should I apologize for daring to scream when Mason collapsed in my arms?”

My voice rose until it cracked, the hysteria spilling out. “No, wait, maybe I should stand before the whole world and host a press conference. Yes! I’ll bow my head and apologize for not being strong enough to stop the almighty Beta of Ashborne as he murdered his own brother and claimed his place as Alpha. Perhaps I’ll even thank him for the honor!”

The sound of my laughter echoed through the room, wild and brittle. My father flinched but did not meet my eyes.

“Your sarcasm will not help us, Winter. Just… be ready. Alpha Fadel will be here by noon tomorrow.” His voice faltered on the name, then he turned away and left me with those haunting words.

I stood rooted, silence pressing against my chest, until it broke into a twisted smirk. My lips curled, though the madness glittering in my eyes betrayed the hollowness beneath.

“He wants an apology?” I whispered, my voice sharp as broken glass. “Then I’ll give him one he’ll never forget.”

I barely slept a wink that night, waiting for afternoon as though it were judgment day. I didn’t bother dressing fancy. For whom exactly? A killer? A thief of vows and futures? My stomach was empty, I hadn’t eaten in days, but my veins thrummed with something stronger than food could give. Rage. Hatred. Resolve.

“Winter… your father wants you in the meeting room right now. Alpha Fadel has arrived,” Becky, my trusted maid, said softly at the door.

I nodded, standing slowly, as if every bone in my body had turned to iron. I already knew he was here. I’d seen the long line of black cars pulling into our courtyard from my balcony. Not even a minute had passed before the bastard was asking for me, as though my grief was his entertainment.

I turned to the mirror one last time. My hair was wild, uncombed. My black sleeping robe clung to me like a shroud, the scent of sleepless nights clinging to my skin. I hadn’t showered, hadn’t touched a single ribbon or jewel. I looked every bit the widow he had made me. I looked a mess, and I wasn’t going to change that. Let him see the ruin he created.

I stepped out of my room with my chin high, ignoring the worried glances of the maids. They could never understand what it meant to lose everything in one heartbeat, what it meant to breathe through ashes. Their judgmental gazes slid off me like rain on glass.

When I reached the meeting room, my steps slowed. Strange men stood at the door—guards in black who reeked of Ashborne dominance. Even here, in my father’s territory, he dared to station his wolves as though this was already his land. I almost sneered. Respect was a word that never existed in Beta Fadel’s vocabulary.

I pushed past them without lowering my eyes. Their stares clung to me like arrows, piercing, accusing, until the heavy door shut behind me. Silence dropped over the room like a shroud.

And there he was. Beta Fadel. The madman. The monster who dared to crown himself Alpha after slaughtering his own blood.

He lounged in my father’s chair like he had been born into it, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, the other frozen mid-drum against the wood. His head tilted slightly, and then his eyes, those obsidian pits, blacker than night, merciless and unyielding, rose to meet mine. A slow, deliberate smile curved his lips.

“Hello, snow bunny,” his voice rolled through the room, dark velvet soaked in venom. “You didn’t have to get all dolled up for me.”

My father stood beside him, stiff as stone, his head slightly bowed. His glance flickered to me, and he almost choked on his own breath. His eyes brimmed with unspoken complaints, yet one plea burned above them all, ‘Don’t make this worse. ’ The shame in his posture, the defeat in the curve of his shoulders, only poured fuel into the fire in my chest.

I strode forward until I stood before the self-proclaimed Alpha, the usurper. The murderer. I wasn’t afraid. My voice cut through the silence like glass shattering.

“You wanted an apology, right?”

He nodded in a disturbingly childlike way, his smile softening into something far more revolting, almost tender, like he thought I might actually yield. The sight of it made bile rise in my throat.

I chuckled, sharp and bitter. “You’ve been deceived. I will never marry a murderer like you. I will never bow to a scumbag. Not now. Not ever. You disgust me.”

And with that, I spat in his face.

Even my heart stopped. The world seemed to hold its breath. My father flinched, his body twitching as though he might throw himself between us. And then Fadel stood.

For a moment, I thought I had signed my death warrant.

But instead—

“Hahahahahahahahaha!”

His laughter erupted, booming and unhinged, echoing through the room like the walls themselves were mocking me. It was a laugh so deranged it made the air taste sour, as though I had told the funniest joke of the century. Then, just as abruptly, it stopped.

With chilling calm, he dragged his hand across his face, gathering my spit, and then—oh, God—he slid his finger into his mouth, tasting me, swallowing as if it were some twisted communion.

He smiled again, slower this time, the curve of his lips almost reverent, and his eyes burned into mine.

“You’ve chosen war, little bunny,” he said softly, savoring each word. “I hope you can fight, my feisty alpha.”

Then his laughter returned, low and rumbling, following him like a storm as he strode out, leaving the air fouled and my skin crawling.

My hair stood on end, every instinct screaming, and yet I stood frozen, knowing I had just declared battle against a monster who enjoyed the taste of it.