The Luna's Revenge

The mirror had a crack. I moved closer to the small, broken thing in the corner of my room, which hung crookedly. My bruised face looked back at me from the glass: a faint purple smudge on my cheekbone, the corner of my lip swollen. I tilted my head a little to see the damage better under the harsh yellow light of the single bulb overhead. My gray eyes were hollow, my long black hair in tangled waves around my shoulders. I told myself it had been worse before, brushing my fingertips over the bruise. It’ll heal. It always does. My room, if you could even call it that, was really nothing more than a storage closet. It used to be one, actually. The water stains had spread like ugly veins, peeling the walls. A single, thin blanket lay over my sagging mattress on the floor. Books I’d collected over the years were the only things worth keeping, and they lined the shelves along one side of the room. Others I stole from the mansion’s grand library when no one was around. I was given some by the rare few who chose to care about me. Even my books couldn’t dull the anger that simmered inside me tonight. I could hear the faint murmur of voices from downstairs through the air vents. Laughter. Chatter. Celebration. I thought of what was happening below and my stomach churned. I didn’t need to see it to picture the scene: a dining hall lit by golden chandeliers, the smell of roasted meat and sweet desserts. Expensive dresses, tailored suits, wine, and guests all marveling at the perfect life of the Sterling family. Perfect. It felt like a knife twisting in my gut— the word. Pushing off the mattress, I walked over to the window. The dust had smudged it, but I could still see the estate grounds. The manicured lawns were soft green waves reaching out beyond the balcony railing to the pale moonlight. The fountain, which spilled water in delicate arcs, glimmered in the middle of the courtyard. Everything about this place was flawless and polished, a stark contrast to the decay I lived in. She was also being celebrated. Again. Calista. Just the thought of her name tightened my jaw. She’d been here for years now, stealing all the things that should’ve been mine. The attention. The affection. The love. By blood she wasn’t even part of the family, but it didn’t matter. They made her their golden child, leaving me to rot here in the corner of the mansion as an afterthought. But not tonight. I turned away from the window, crossed the room, and yanked open my door. I slipped into the hallway, and my boots echoed softly against the hardwood floors. The painted eyes of the portraits on the walls glared down at me, the same disapproval I had seen my whole life. These were the ones that mattered, the Sterlings. The ones who were powerful. Important. Not me. Never me. As I approached the dining hall, the voices grew louder. “Of course her dress was custom made.” I heard Seraphina say, Nothing but the finest for our Calista. She had a voice like syrup, sweet up top but nauseating if you stayed too long. She never used that tone with me. I stopped at the doorway, holding the frame and peeking inside. It was like something out of a fairy tale, the dining hall. The room was filled with a long table down the center , covered in silk tablecloths and glittering silverware. Everything below the crystal chandelier shimmered as it shone brightly, casting forth soft light. At the head of the table sat Magnus, his broad shoulders and gray-streaked beard making him look every bit the powerful Alpha he claimed to be. Her deep green dress was elegant; her eyes were cold, her eyes calculating. And then there was Calista. In the middle of it all sat her, glowing in a red velvet gown that hugged her slender frame. Her smile made her dark curls shine and her smile even brighter. Orion was whispering something in her ear, and she was laughing. Our younger brother leaned towards her, smug as ever, obviously enjoying the attention. Calista’s eyes flicked up, then, meeting mine for the briefest of seconds. Her smile curved, cruel and sharp, before she turned her gaze back to Orion, dismissing me without a second thought. Magnus raised his wine glass. “Ah.” Our pride and joy, the light of this family—To Calista.” Cheers and clinking glasses erupted in the room. Smiling, Calista dipped her head, but it widened. “Thank you, Father. “We’re so lucky to be part of this family.” Lucky. I wanted to laugh—or scream. I stepped into the room, my boots thudding against the polished floor instead. The laughter died down, and the sound cut through it; slowly, heads turned toward me. “What is she doing here?” Orion muttered. He could be heard quite clearly. Seraphina said sharply, her tone icy now. “Elara.” “Go back to your room. You’re not needed here.” “I live here too,” I replied, my voice low but steady. “Do you?” Her head tilted as she looked at me, her voice sweet, Calista. Her voice was innocent, her eyes malicious. 'I thought you liked to stay out of sight.' Like a ghost.” The room rippled with laughter. I clenched my fists and thought about throwing one of those glittering wine glasses across the room. I tried to stay still, the heat of humiliation crawling up my neck instead. Magnus didn’t say a word. He just looked at me with that familiar look of disdain, as if I was nothing more than a dirty track into his perfect home. I couldn’t stand it. I turned on my heel, walked out, head held high, even though my vision blurred with unshed tears. Their voices followed behind me. Orion said, “You shouldn’t let her ruin the evening.” Magnus replied, “She’s not worth our attention.” I slammed the door behind me, back in my room. It echoed, but their laughter still rang in my ears. I sat down on the edge of my bed, looking at my shaking hands. I dug my nails into my palms; the sharp sting brought me back to reality. I’d swallowed this for years. Let them humiliate me. Treat me like I was nothing. “Enough,” I whispered. I looked at the cracked mirror again, but this time I didn’t just see the bruised and broken girl they wanted me to be. Something sharper—something stronger—burned in my gray eyes. They wanted me to disappear. To fade away. I wasn’t going to let them, though. Not anymore.