The Sacred Luna

Chapter 17

(Sanya's POV)

I stand up slowly. My legs shake but they hold my weight.

The silver cape stays wrapped around me. I don't want to take it off. The only thing keeping me warm.

I walk toward the stairs. Each step is an effort. My body is exhausted, pushed beyond its limits.

But I make it to my room and lock the door before collapsing on the bed.

The silver cape spreads out around me like wings as I lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything.

A shaman appeared out of nowhere, gave me water, gave me this cape. He restrained Tyron with magic.

Then disappeared into thin air.

What does it mean?

His words return back to me. "The Creator doesn't look kindly on a man who torments his wife, young man. You should show mercy where possible."

The Creator.

Aaron used to talk about the Creator. The true sovereign of heaven and earth. He said the Creator watched over everyone. Protecting, guiding, sheltering us when we needed.

I never believed him. I went through the motions of faith because that's what you're supposed to do. When the teachers talked about the moon, I couldn't wrap my head around it.

How could someone with emotions and feelings be a goddess? How can she be impartial between her creations, when clearly, there are some she favors.

It felt wrong. So I never took the moon to heart.

But the Creator Aaron always talked about. The power that created everything between heaven and earth including the moon...

I believed in that power. I feel it in my gut that there is a power out there watching, caring enough to protect me without merit.

I pull the silver cape tighter around me. It's warm and comfortable.

An undeniable proof of a being out there looking over me.

I close my eyes, and murmur, thank you, as I drift into a restless sleep.

Hours pass. The sun climbs from East to the West.

Tyron doesn't return.

Part of me hopes he never comes back.

But I know better. Men like Tyron Stone don't go down easily. It'll take more to bring him down than just a shaman.

He'll be back. And when he comes back, he'll make me pay for what happened today.

The sun begins to set. Orange light paints my walls.

I finally sit up. My body aches but the warmth from the silver cape has restored some of my strength.

I need to eat something and take care of myself.

Because if what happened in the living room earlier today does indeed have something to do with my wolf... then I have even more of a reason to stay strong.

I unlock my door and step into the hallway.

The house is quiet. I can hear voices downstairs but they're muted, distant.

I make my way to the kitchen. A few servants are there, preparing dinner.

They freeze upon seeing me.

One of them, a young woman named Ophelia, steps forward hesitantly.

"Luna," she says softly. "Are you... are you alright?"

The question catches me off guard. No one in this house has ever asked me that before. Not once.

So this isn't just surprising. It's a shock.

"I'm alive," I smile, finally finding my voice.

Ophelia's eyes fill with tears. "We wanted to help you. We did. But we're too afraid of the Alpha."

"I know," I say. And I do know. I understand their fear. I lived it every day under my brothers watch.

And I live now, under Tyron Stone.

"There's soup," she says. "And fresh bread. Let me bring you some."

"Thank you."

She hurries to prepare a tray. The other servants watch with wary eyes but don't try to stop her.

I sit at the small table in the corner. The one the servants use when the family isn't around.

Ophelia brings me the tray. Soup that smells like vegetables and herbs. Bread that's still warm from the oven.

I eat slowly. Each spoonful a delight, despite being an effort. My throat is still raw from the chili powder.

But the food tastes good. The warmth of it settles in my stomach, giving me strength.

I'm halfway through the bowl when I hear it.

A car pulling up outside. An engine cutting off. A door slamming.

Tyron is home.

The servants hear it too. They exchange nervous glances and focus on their tasks, suddenly treating me like I'm invisible again.

Ophelia touches my arm. "You should go back to your room," she whispers. "Before he finds you here."

But I don't move and keep eating my soup, done playing the role of the meek wife.

What's the worse that he can do to me? Beating? Already experienced it. Public humiliation? Ah, I would've almost forgotten about how he dragged me by my hair if my scalp wasn't still throbbing.

After the ice and chili torture, I doubt there's anything I can't endure at this point.

Footsteps echo through the house. Strong. Heavy. Purposeful.

Then Tyron appears in the kitchen doorway.

And he's not alone.

Maya is with him.

My spoon clatters into the bowl. A strange dread setting in the pit of my stomach. I stand slowly. The silver cape falling back from my shoulders.

This...

This can't be what I think it is, right? It has got to be a joke, or some sort of a game.

Maya is in a wedding dress.

The white gown so elaborate, and dripping with lace and pearls, as if it's something out of a fairy tale.

She stands there with her head held high, a triumphant smile playing on her lips as if she's won some sort of a grand prize I didn't know we were competing for.

Her auburn hair is styled in perfect waves. Her makeup flawless, and the dress fits her like it was made specifically for her body.

Which it probably was, recalling Tyron's obsession with "the best of the best."

In comparison to her glamorous appearance, I appear plain and dull.

"What is she doing here?" I demand, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. But I don't care because the sight of her in that dress, standing beside my husband like she belongs there, makes my blood boil in a way I can't quite explain.

Tyron smiles and it makes my skin crawl. It's the kind of smile that tells me he's been waiting for this moment. The perfect time to deliver whatever blow he's prepared. "Maya will be my new wife," he says, his voice smooth and casual like he's discussing the weather. "Unless, of course, you tell me the name of your lover."