RISE OF THE LOST LUNA

### Chapter 1: Under the Moonlight The Brannon estate was a sprawling manor, nestled in the heart of a lush forest. Its grandeur was unmatched, a testament to the power and wealth of the Brannon family. For me, however, it was a world of constant demands and stifling constraints. I was Ella, a servant with ambitions that felt perpetually out of reach. As a mere mortal and a would-be werewolf, my life was defined by the expectations of those around me. The night had fallen, and the full moon cast a silvery sheen over the estate. Its light transformed the estate into a mystical realm, each shadow and glimmer a reminder of the world I yearned to join. The distant howls of wolves echoed through the trees, a haunting yet enchanting sound that stirred something deep within me. I stood at the edge of the clearing, my breath visible in the crisp night air, contemplating the shimmering moon above. Lydia Brannon, the daughter of Alpha Brannon, moved gracefully through the moonlit garden. The garden itself was a marvel—an beautiful display of vibrant flowers and manicured hedges, now bathed in the moon’s ethereal light. Lydia's presence seemed to elevate the beauty of the garden to another level. She was a striking figure, her long hair cascading down her back in waves of midnight silk. Her eyes, though soft, held a sharp intelligence and a quiet authority that spoke volumes about her future role in the pack. I watched her from a distance, feeling the weight of her expectations and the burden of my own inadequacies. Lydia was not just beautiful; she was the epitome of grace and power. Her movements were deliberate, each step a reflection of the high regard in which she was held. As the daughter of Alpha Brannon, Lydia was integral to the future of the Brannon pack. Her life was intertwined with the fate of the pack, and her role in it was pivotal. As she walked, her gaze lifted to the moon. There was a wistful quality to her expression, a hint of longing that mirrored my own. For a moment, we were united in our shared reverence for the moonlight, both yearning for something beyond our current circumstances. I could see the tension in her posture—the weight of her family’s expectations pressing down on her. She was poised to inherit a legacy, a responsibility that came with its own set of challenges. The moonlight made her appear almost otherworldly, casting a soft glow around her. It was a stark contrast to my own existence—one filled with the mundane tasks of servitude and the constant reminder of my place in the world. I had dreams of transformation, of becoming a werewolf and joining the pack, but those dreams seemed distant and elusive. Lydia paused at the edge of the garden, her gaze fixed on the horizon. I could sense a deep conflict within her, a struggle between her duty to her family and her own desires. She was a pawn in a game of power and politics, destined to marry someone who could strengthen her family’s position. The weight of her future was evident in the way she carried herself, her every movement a reflection of the pressure she faced. The full moon was a symbol of transformation and power for werewolves. It was said that under its light, one’s true self was revealed, and desires were laid bare. For Lydia, the moonlight was both a blessing and a curse—an emblem of the power she would one day wield, but also a reminder of the sacrifices she would have to make. I remained hidden in the shadows, my thoughts a tangle of envy and longing. The moon’s glow bathed me in its silvery light, casting a soft halo around me. It was a moment of introspection, a brief respite from the demands of my daily life. I had always admired Lydia from afar, her elegance and poise a constant reminder of the world I yearned to be part of. As I observed her, I couldn’t help but wonder about her future. She was set to marry Damien, the man who would become the next alpha. The marriage was a strategic move, designed to solidify alliances and strengthen the Brannon pack’s position. Damien’s rise to power was contingent upon proving himself worthy. He came from a powerful pack, the Greyhills. A pack older than the Brannons, but their reducing number meant they were no longer as powerful as they used to be. Damien becoming alpha wound restore the power to their pack. The marriage was a powerful alliance between the two packs. The relationship between Lydia and Damien was complex. They were bound together by duty and obligation, their futures entwined in a web of political maneuvering. For Lydia, the marriage was a means to secure her family’s legacy, while for Damien, it was a step toward achieving his destiny as the alpha. Their union was a necessary sacrifice, a melding of power and influence. As the minutes ticked by, Lydia’s figure became a silhouette against the moonlit backdrop. Her presence was a reminder of the life I aspired to—a life of power and transformation but has no hope of having. The full moon like every other one was a beacon of hope, to experience change that I so desperately sought. I sighed, the sound barely audible over the distant rustling of the leaves. My gaze shifted back to Lydia, who had turned away from the horizon and was now heading back towards the estate. I took one last look at the moon, the silvery light casting a soft glow over everything it touched. The night was alive with possibilities, and I could feel the pulse of something greater just beyond my reach. As Lydia disappeared into the distance, I turned and made my way back to the servant quarters. A few more steps to my room, I saw Luke coming towards my direction. He is Lydia's brother and almost the same age as me and the only member of the family who considered me human enough talk to. His brown curly hair rested beautifully of his shoulders and complimented his pale skin well. He is a beta and was happy with his rank. It was one thing I loved about him. His contentment. He did not have the hunger for power or wealth like his father did and tried to avoid the politics of the pack as much as possible. “Done for the day, miss?” He asked teasingly. I nodded in response, my face building a smile. “Here”, he handed my a small satchet. I already knew the content. “Thank you”. He cut me short. “ It's my pleasure and you need not thank me for it” He walked on, past me, his two hands behind his back with an habitual sway. “Goodnight, miss” he baded loudly. I replied, without the enthusiasm. I entered into my small world. The only space I could feel in control. I opened the satchet and ate a little of the condiments Luke packed. My emotions tonight did not encourage my appetite, so I kept the rest for later. The moon rays found its way into my room. It's light dimming as my eyelids closed slowly.