The Rogue Luna Memory

Chapter 5

​The heavy oak doors of the Alpha’s private study slammed open with enough force to rattle the glass windows.

​Silas didn't even look up from the tactical map spread across his grand mahogany desk. He was strapping a silver-trimmed leather harness over his chest, tightening the straps with sharp, practiced movements.

​"Silas!"

​A young woman swept into the room, her high heels clicking loudly against the polished hardwood. She wore a sharp, tailored crimson coat that flared at her waist, her sleek blonde hair styled in flawless waves despite the late hour.

​This was Lady Victoria, the daughter of the pack’s wealthiest elder councilman. For two years, her father had aggressively pushed for a union between Victoria and the Alpha, claiming her high-born bloodline would solidify the pack's dominance.

​Silas had never given her the time of day. When he chose Sienna—a nameless, packless rogue—Victoria had spent three days locked in her manor, furious that a nobody had stolen the title of Luna.

​"Victoria," Silas said, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion as he checked the blade tucked into his thigh sheath. "I don't have time for the council's politics tonight. Get out."

​Victoria crossed her arms, stepping right up to the edge of his desk. She didn't look worried; she looked annoyed, her painted red lips curled into a slight pout.

​"The entire packhouse is in chaos, Silas!" Victoria demanded, her voice high and sharp. "The guards are running through the halls, the search teams are tearing up the borders, and my father is demanding an explanation! Is it true? Did that wild rogue really throw a scene and run off on your wedding night?"

​Silas’s hand paused on his belt. The air in the room instantly grew cold, heavy with a silent, suffocating warning. Slowly, he raised his head. His gold eyes locked onto hers, so dark and cold that Victoria took an involuntary half-step back.

​"Watch your tongue, Victoria," Silas said softly, the quietness of his tone far more dangerous than a roar. "You are speaking about the Luna of the Bloodmoon Pack."

​Victoria swallowed hard, but her vanity quickly buried her fear. She let out a soft, bitter laugh and stepped closer, leaning over the desk toward him.

​"Luna?" she scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Silas, be realistic. She rejected you in front of every noble family in the territory! She jumped into a raging river rather than spend one night with you. She was never fit to wear the silver crown. She’s an unstable stray who broke your heart and humiliated our pack!"

​Silas didn't argue. He didn't waste a single breath trying to defend his feelings to her.

​Instead, he simply walked right past her as if she were a piece of furniture, heading toward the weapon rack near the wall. He reached for his twin tactical daggers, completely ignoring her presence.

​Victoria’s face flushed with anger at being ignored. She turned around sharply, her eyes flashing.

​"She’s dead, Silas!" Victoria blurted out, her voice desperate to catch his attention. "No one survives that fall! Why are you wasting our warriors and risking a war with the Shadow Claw Pack over a corpse? You should be staying here, comforting the pack, and preparing to select a real Luna who actually knows how to respect an Alpha!"

​Silas turned around slowly. In one fluid, terrifying motion, he was across the room.

​Before Victoria could even blink, Silas’s hand closed around her slender throat. He didn't choke her, but his grip was a steel cage, pinning her against the wall. His golden eyes flared into a violent, blood-red.

​Victoria gasped, her hands clutching at his wrist, her wide eyes filled with sudden, genuine terror.

​"If you speak her name with disrespect again," Silas whispered, his voice vibrating through her very bones, "I will lock you in the dungeon until the council begs for your release. Do you understand me?"

​Victoria nodded frantically, tears of fear springing to her eyes.

​Silas released her instantly, not bothering to check if she was alright. He wiped his hand on his pants as if touching her had left dirt on his skin, then turned back to his desk.

​Just then, Dr. Rebecca stepped into the study, holding a wooden tray filled with the glass evidence vials from the ballroom. She paused near the doorway, eyeing Victoria with a deep, suspicious frown.

​"Alpha," Rebecca said carefully, her eyes darting between Victoria’s flushed face and Silas. "I’ve secured the remains of the wedding feast. But... I noticed something strange when I went back to the kitchen."

​Silas adjusted his gloves. "What is it?"

​"The servant who was assigned to guard the high table’s goblet tray before the vows... she’s missing," Rebecca reported. "Her quarters were cleared out completely. But I found this dropped near her door."

​Rebecca held up a small, embroidered silk handkerchief. Stitched into the corner was a delicate golden crest—the crest of Victoria’s noble family house.

​Silas’s eyes locked onto the handkerchief, then slowly shifted back to Victoria, who was leaning against the wall, rubbing her neck and catching her breath.

​Victoria’s eyes widened as she noticed the handkerchief. "What is that supposed to mean?!" she snapped defensively, her voice rising an octave. "Are you implying I had something to do with this?! I lost that handkerchief three days ago! One of the servants probably stole it!"

​"I didn't accuse you of anything, Lady Victoria," Rebecca said smoothly, though her gaze remained sharp and distrustful. "I am simply reporting what was found near the missing servant's room."

​"This is ridiculous!" Victoria yelled, her hands trembling as she looked at Silas. "Silas, you can't possibly believe this witch! I love this pack! I would never poison anyone! That rogue probably drank something bad herself because her body couldn't handle noble wine!"

​Silas stared at Victoria for a long, agonizing silence. He didn't accuse her, but he didn't defend her either. His face was a cold, unreadable mask.

​"Logan," Silas called out toward the hallway.

​Logan immediately stepped into the room, his armor fully strapped on. "Yes, Alpha?"

​"Place guards at the perimeter of the council manors," Silas commanded, keeping his eyes on Victoria. "No member of the noble families leaves the packhouse grounds tonight. If Lady Victoria attempts to cross the courtyard, place her under house arrest."

​"Silas! You can't do this to me!" Victoria shrieked, taking a step toward him. "My father will hear about this!"

​Silas ignored her completely. He grabbed his dark cloak, threw it over his shoulders, and walked past her out the door. "Logan, move the war unit to the northern border. We cross in ten minutes."

​Victoria watched him walk away, her chest heaving with pure rage and embarrassment. As Logan stepped up to escort her out, she glared at Dr. Rebecca, her hands clenching into tight fists until her acrylic nails bit into her palms.

​"You're going to regret this," Victoria spat at the healer in a bitter whisper before turning on her heel and stalking down the hallway under guard supervision.

​Meanwhile, three miles away, past the roaring river and deep inside the dark, rain-soaked woods of the neutral border...

​Sienna dragged her body out of the mud, gasping for air.

​Her heavy white wedding dress was shredded, soaked through with freezing water and covered in black silt. Her knees were scraped raw, and every muscle in her body burned with sheer exhaustion.

​She looked back toward the river behind her. The wild water was churning violently in the dark, but somehow, miraculously, she had washed up on a shallow mudbank instead of being crushed against the sharp rocks.

​You made it, she thought, her breath coming in ragged gasps as rain pounded down on her face. You escaped him.

​She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, shivering uncontrollably from the freezing cold. She looked at the dark forest ahead. The trees here were taller, denser, and filled with a thick, creepy mist.

​She didn't know where she was, but she knew one thing: she had to keep moving before that terrifying golden-eyed Alpha found her.

​Suddenly, the rustle of dry leaves echoed through the trees ahead.

​Sienna froze, her heart instantly slamming into her throat. She ducked behind a massive oak tree, holding her breath, her hand instinctively searching the muddy ground for a heavy rock or stick.

​Through the curtain of rain, two glowing yellow eyes appeared in the dark mist.

​Then another pair. And another.

​Three large, charcoal-gray wolves stepped out from the shadows, their snouts dripping with rainwater as they sniffed the air. They weren't wearing the silver pack crest of the Bloodmoon Pack. Their shoulders bore a different mark—a b****y claw print burned into their fur.

​Shadow Claw patrol, Sienna realized, her blood running cold.

​A tall man in a dark leather jacket stepped out from behind the wolves. He had sharp, handsome features, pale skin, and a dark, dangerous smile playing on his lips as his eyes swept over her torn bridal dress.

​"Well, well, well," the man purred, his voice smooth as silk as he stepped toward her tree. "What do we have here? A lost bride bleeding in my woods?"

​Sienna gripped a sharp stone off the ground, backing away against the tree trunk. "Stay back! Don't come near me!"

​The man held up his hands, smiling wider as he took another slow, deliberate step forward.

​"Easy, sweet girl," he whispered softly, his eyes glinting with a strange, dark charm. "I'm not going to hurt you. In fact... I've been looking for you. Alpha Silas didn't tell you the truth, did he? He locked you up, but I am the one who was coming to save you.”