Moonlight Scars

Aurelian Moonvale Auriel, for short became an orphan at eight. She was the daughter of Jackson Moonvale, Alpha of a small but respected pack. Though his pack was not large, her father was known across the lands for being fierce in battle, powerful in command, and merciful to those who knelt. That mercy became their undoing. The pack he once spared returned under the cover of night. They did not challenge. They ambushed. Claws tore through flesh. Blood soaked the earth. The howls of her people faded one by one until silence claimed the land that had once been home. Auriel survived. She was found beneath the ruins of her pack house, clinging to life, moonlight glinting off the blood on her skin. They did not free her. They claimed her. Not as family. Not as mercy. But as a reminder. She was taken captive not to be raised, but to be broken. A living mockery of the Alpha they had once bowed to. A child shaped into a slave. The Alpha and Luna of the Half-Moon Pack were ruthless, prideful, and merciless. They sought only power, wealth, and control. They had two children Ariana, their silent and observant daughter, and Lucian, their arrogant, cruel son. Years passed. Auriel lived in a small room beside the basement, where damp stone walls pressed in and the air smelled of rot and despair. She was beaten when she spoke. Starved when she disobeyed. Forgotten when she obeyed. She was treated like garbage. Like she was nothing. **************************************************** Auriel’s POV At nineteen, I had no wolf. No mate. And no one left to mourn me. To them, it meant I was broken. To me, it meant something inside me was still sleeping. “You filthy wretch! Keep your eyes down when speaking to me!” Lucian shouted. “I’m your future Alpha you must learn to submit.” “You’re not my Alpha,” I snapped, lifting my head despite the pain. “You’ll never be my Alpha. And I’ll never submit.” The slap came fast. This time, from the Luna. “How dare you speak to my son like that?” she hissed. “You call that a son? Pathetic.” Lucian scoffed. “Enough! Dad, she started it!” “I said enough,” the Alpha growled, though his eyes never softened. “Behave like an Alpha, Lucian.” The Luna rounded on him. “Is that how you talk to your son because of this wretch?” All the while, Ariana stayed silent watching. Always watching. “By tomorrow, during the ceremony,” the Alpha said coldly, “I will make you an Omega. Prepare yourself, Aurelian Moonvale.” He turned to the others. “Everyone, return to your meals. No whining. You either eat, or you leave.” My chest tightened. Me? An Omega? I ran back to my room, my thoughts spiraling. My body felt restless, unsettled like something inside me was pacing, clawing, waiting. Before dawn, a violent knock shattered the silence. “Come out, wretch!” The door flew open as a guard kicked it, nearly ripping it from its hinges. I barely had time to stand before they dragged me out, hauling me across the cold ground toward a secluded room outside the mansion. That was where the torture began. They beat me without restraint fists, boots, laughter. Pain bloomed everywhere at once. “Oh dear, Omega,” one guard sneered. “I bet your father’s rolling in his grave.” Another laughed loudly. “Daddy’s little princess.” “And your mother?” a third added cruelly. “Crying helplessly while her useless little daughter becomes a useless Omega.” They laughed harder. “Those scars of yours,” he mocked, gripping my chin. “They’ll suit your title perfectly.” I lifted my head slowly. Blood dripped from my lip, warm and metallic, splashing onto the stone beneath my feet. My body trembled not from fear, but from exhaustion I refused to acknowledge. Every muscle screamed. Still, I straightened my spine. “My father,” I whispered hoarsely, “died an Alpha.” A blow struck my face, stars exploding behind my eyes. I staggered but didn’t fall. “He ruled with mercy,” I continued through blood-filled breaths. “Something you wouldn’t recognize if it clawed its way out of your chest.” Another hit. Then another. My knees finally buckled, slamming into the floor. My hands shook as I tried to push myself up but my strength was draining fast. Still, I smiled. A small, broken thing. “You can strip me,” I murmured, my words slurring, “beat me… brand me however you like.” A boot crushed against my ribs, forcing a cry from my throat. Tears burned my eyes, but I kept my gaze lifted. “But you will never own me.” That was when they truly unleashed their cruelty. Blows rained down until pain became soundless and the world blurred into darkness. I tasted blood, iron, dirt. My thoughts scattered my father’s face, moonlight, a howl trapped in my chest. Not yet. My body finally gave in, collapsing as strength abandoned me completely. My breathing turned shallow, each gasp weaker than the last. Even then, my lips moved. “I’ll never submit,” I whispered. “Not today… not ever… never…” A final strike landed. Darkness swallowed me whole. Cold water splashed against my face. “Get up!” a guard shouted. “It’s time for your coronation, Omega.” The stone floor was merciless against my knees as I was forced to kneel at the edge of the Alpha Hall. Iron shackles wrapped tightly around my wrists, biting into skin already marked by scars that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. Every movement made the chains clink softly, drawing silence… and subtle mockery from the wolves gathered around me. I lowered my head. But deep inside, something stirred. And it was not weak. As I was dragged into the Alpha Hall, a hush fell over the crowd. Then the gasps came. I lifted my head slowly and saw the shock etched across their faces. Bruises darkened my skin. Dried blood clung to my hair and clothes. My body screamed with every step, yet I walked forward on my own feet. Moonlight spilled through the high arched windows, bathing the hall in silver as I reached the center directly before the Alpha throne. Before him. Chains were ripped from my wrists, only for guards to force me down onto my knees. The stone was cold, biting through my skin, but I refused to bow my head. The Alpha rose. “I, Alpha Elvis of the Half-Moon Pack,” he declared, his voice carrying through the hall, “call forth this gathering to witness the stripping of rank.” A murmur rippled through the crowd. An elder stepped forward, carrying a shallow bowl filled with dark liquid Omega binding ink mixed with silver dust. The smell alone made my stomach churn. “This ritual binds the weak,” the elder said coldly. “From this moment on, she will kneel, submit, and serve.” Alpha Elvis took the bowl. “I, Alpha Elvis of the Half-Moon Pack,” he continued, a cruel smile stretching his lips, “crown you Omega.” Then he laughed. The sound echoed loud, mocking, victorious. He dipped his fingers into the bowl and reached for my forehead. Something inside me snapped. I surged forward despite the hands forcing me down, my voice tearing through the hall like a blade. “I, Aurelian Moonvale,” I said clearly, defiantly, “reject your Omega title.” The hall exploded into chaos. Gasps. Shouts. Fear. The Alpha’s smile vanished.