THE LUNA'S WRATH
892 Words
Mireya did not react immediately.
That was what made her dangerous.
While most would have questioned him, pushed further, or even argued—she did none of that. She simply watched.
Observed.
Calculated.
Rowan stood near the window now, his back turned to her, shoulders tense, his breathing uneven in a way he clearly tried to hide.
But Mireya noticed everything.
Always.
The silence between them stretched longer than it should have.
Heavy.
Loaded.
“You’re quieter than usual,” she said at last.
Her tone was light.
Too light.
Like nothing had changed.
Like she hadn’t just watched her Alpha falter.
Rowan didn’t turn.
“I told you, I’m fine.”
Mireya smiled.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
But knowingly.
She took a few slow steps forward, her fingers brushing lightly against the edge of a table as she moved.
“You keep saying that,” she murmured. “And yet… nothing about you looks fine.”
That did it.
Rowan turned sharply, irritation flashing across his face.
“What do you want from me, Mireya?”
She stopped.
Met his gaze.
Held it.
“The truth.”
The word landed between them like a challenge.
Rowan scoffed, running a hand through his hair.
“I don’t have time for this.”
But even as he said it—
He didn’t move.
Mireya noticed that too.
“You’re thinking about her,” she said softly.
The reaction was instant.
Rowan stiffened.
Not denial.
Not anger.
Recognition.
And that was all Mireya needed.
Her smile deepened.
Slightly.
Dangerously.
“I can see it now,” she continued, her voice smooth. “The way your control slips whenever her name is mentioned. The way your wolf reacts. The way you… hesitate.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened.
“You’re overthinking it.”
“Am I?”
She stepped closer.
Slow.
Measured.
“You rejected her,” Mireya said. “Publicly. Completely. Without hesitation.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“So tell me, Rowan… why does it still affect you?”
The question hit harder than expected.
Rowan didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t have one.
And that silence—
That hesitation—
That lack of certainty—
It confirmed everything.
Mireya’s gaze flickered briefly.
Something colder settling behind her calm expression.
“She was nothing,” Rowan said finally.
But this time—
His voice lacked conviction.
Mireya heard it.
Of course she did.
“And yet,” she replied softly, “your wolf doesn’t seem to agree.”
That struck deeper than anything else.
Rowan’s expression darkened.
“Enough.”
But Mireya didn’t stop.
Because now—
This wasn’t just about Elara.
This was about control.
And she was starting to lose it.
“She served you,” Mireya continued, her voice quieter now. “She obeyed you. She was loyal. Always present. Always—”
“Stop.”
The word came out sharper this time.
More forceful.
But again—
Too late.
Because the image had already formed.
Elara.
Moving around the packhouse.
Quiet.
Efficient.
Always there when needed.
Always looking at him like—
Like he mattered.
Rowan exhaled slowly.
His chest tightening again.
“She was just doing her job,” he muttered.
Mireya tilted her head.
“Was she?”
The doubt in her tone was subtle.
But effective.
Rowan didn’t respond.
Because now—
He wasn’t sure.
And Mireya saw it.
Felt it.
Understood it.
And just like that—
Her smile returned.
Not soft.
Not warm.
But sharp.
Because now she knew something important.
This wasn’t over.
Not for Rowan.
And if it wasn’t over for him—
It wasn’t over for her either.
“She should have died,” Mireya said quietly.
The words were soft.
Almost gentle.
But the meaning behind them—
Was anything but.
Rowan’s head snapped up.
“What?”
Mireya held his gaze.
Unflinching.
“Rejected mates don’t survive,” she said. “That’s the law. That’s the balance.”
Her voice dropped slightly.
“But she did.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
“And now,” Mireya continued, “she belongs to someone else.”
That did it.
Something inside Rowan snapped.
The Curse Awakens
It started in his chest.
A sharp, violent pain that came without warning.
Rowan staggered back slightly, his breath catching as his hand flew to his sternum.
“What—”
The word cut off.
Because the pain intensified.
Not dull.
Not fading.
Growing.
Spreading.
His wolf roared inside him.
Not in dominance.
Not in strength.
In agony.
Rowan dropped to one knee.
His claws scraping against the floor as his body tensed.
“Elara—!”
The name tore out of him.
Uncontrolled.
Unwanted.
And that—
That was when it hit him.
This wasn’t backlash.
This wasn’t temporary.
This was punishment.
The rejection.
The bond.
It wasn’t gone.
It was still there.
Broken.
Twisted.
But alive.
And it was tearing him apart from the inside.
“Rowan—”
Mireya’s voice cut through the moment.
Sharp.
Concerned.
But he barely heard her.
Because all he could feel—
Was her.
Not physically.
Not present.
But there.
Somewhere.
Alive.
Connected.
And no longer his.
The realization hit harder than the pain.
Because for the first time—
He understood.
He hadn’t just rejected her.
He had lost her.
And something inside him—
Wasn’t willing to accept that.
- Writer
