Rise Of The Fallen Luna

Chapter 11

••• Leicia’s POV •••

The sun was already leaning west when I stepped out of the car.

The Whitemaw Tails Pack house hadn’t changed in the single day I’d been gone.

Of course it hadn’t.

The gates still creaked the same. The stone path still bore the faint scratches from when Emma threw a fit and dragged a cabinet across the courtyard.

And still, as I stepped inside, it felt like entering a place I no longer belonged to—not that I ever wanted it to be.

I wasn’t here to reclaim anything. Not my title. Not the place I once called home based on duty. I was only here to prepare for our departure, to gather what was mine.

Still, my steps were steady as I walked through the front doors, and the scent of familiarity hit me like an old perfume. One I had worn too long and never liked.

“Luna Leicia—” one of the Omegas began, startled by my sudden return.

I lifted a hand. “Just Miss Leicia now.”

She hesitated, bowed low, then scurried away.

I walked through the main corridor with Annisa. No greetings. No welcomes. Just silence, broken only by the distant sound of laughter echoing from the dining hall.

It was faint at first—soft, warm, woven with contentment.

But as I got closer, it sharpened.

“Try this one, Matthew! I think you’ll love it,” Lydia’s voice chirped, saccharine and too sweet to be real.

My steps slowed.

“I cooked it myself,” she added.

“Mm,” Matthew hummed. “It’s good. Emma, have you tried this one?”

Emma snorted. “She’s doing so much more than Leicia ever did. And in just one day.”

More laughter. The happy, clueless kind.

I should’ve kept walking.

Instead, I paused just outside the doorway, watching them.

Matthew sat at the head of the table like he hadn’t once begged me to stay. Lydia was to his right, glowing with smug satisfaction. Hilda, of all people, had her hand resting gently over Lydia’s, as if they’d been best friends for years.

The table was laid out neatly—grilled meats, steamed dumplings, salted stew that Lydia must have made herself. I used to cook these meals. I used to set this table. And no one laughed like this.

Emma was sipping wine. “Really, Lydia. You’ve brought such joy to this house.”

“Unlike someone else,” Hilda mumbled, just loud enough.

It was like I’d been erased. No hesitation. No awkwardness. As if I had never existed at all.

Good. That was how I wanted them to be. I didn’t want them to cause troubles for me in the future.

Just as I was about to turn away, Lydia’s head snapped toward my direction. Lydia’s head turned. The smile dropped before she pasted on another, more brittle version.

“Well, well,” she drawled. “Back already? Did you forget something?”

I tilted my head slightly. "No. Just came to gather my things before I leave for good."

Emma scoffed in the background. "About time."

I ignored her. I ignored them. I simply turned away and made my way back to the study. I had no need for any kind of interactions with them anymore.

The moment I opened the study door, it was like slipping on an old coat. The scent of paper and sandalwood hit me, the quiet hum of familiarity making something twist in my chest.

Everything was still there. The books I organized. The schedule board I used to update. Even my favorite fountain pen still rested in its holder—dry, abandoned, but intact.

I sat at the desk. This time, not because I had to. But because I could.

A few moments later, the door was knocked and Annisa entered with a box, placing it on my desk.

"Please finish it, Luna," she said. “I’m going to come back later. They need me in the kitchen.”

I gave her a small, grateful smile before she left.

I slid the box closer and lifted the lid off. It turned out to be a bento box, oddly elegant for something packed in haste. I smiled faintly. How grateful I was to still have Annisa and Kyle with me.

I started eating and tried not to feel anything about the happy scene from earlier.

It wasn’t that I expected gratitude, and like I said before, it was good I didn’t need to be here anymore. But… maybe I’d still hoped for something like a little acknowledgment? Some decency? But what could I expect from a family of leeches?

Halfway through the rice, the door burst open.

Lydia didn’t knock.

Of course, she didn’t.

“You’re eating?” Lydia’s voice sliced through the air like a knife. “How dare you still act like this is your home?”

I didn’t look up right away. Not until I finished chewing.

Only when I set the spoon down did I meet her eyes.

Lydia stood in the doorway like she owned the place, arms crossed, chin raised.

“I didn’t realize eating was a crime,” I said calmly. “But I suppose the law here changes depending on who’s favored for the day.”

Her nostrils flared. “You have no place here anymore.”

“Then why is it still my money paying for the food?”

Her mouth parted slightly, confusion flickering in her eyes before she masked it with a sneer.

I stood slowly, wiping my mouth with measured grace, then walked to the liquor cabinet behind the desk. I poured a glass of water—not wine, not whiskey. Just water.

Anf then, with deliberate precision, I turned and threw it.

The glass shattered against the wall just inches from Lydia’s head, shards hitting the floor with crystalline hiss.

Water splashed across her shoulder, trailing down her dress.

She gasped and stumbled back, her posture snapping from arrogant to rigid with alarm.

I tilted my head, voice soft and cold. “That was your only warning. Next time, I won’t miss.”

“You crazy b***h!” she spat, voice shrill with fear now. “You dare—”

She lunged. Sloppy. Predictable.

Her hand lifted.

I didn’t move.

I didn’t need to.

I let it bleed out—just a thread of what lay dormant beneath my calm. My Alpha aura unfurled like smoke under her skin, slow and silent, invisible but inescapable.

Belle growled in my mind, enjoying this. “Submit.”

Lydia froze mid-step. Her knees trembled, buckling as the air thickened.

Her skin broke out in sweat. Her breathing hitched.

Then I saw it—the flicker in her eyes.

Fear.

Real, primal, wolf-deep fear.

She fell back a step, hand still raised but useless now. Her wolf whimpered beneath her skin.

And I hadn’t even raised a hand.

I reined in my aura and stepped forward once.

Her back hit the doorframe.

“You’ve mistaken my silence for weakness,” I said, voice low, every syllable like a blade. “You think power is throwing dinner parties and kissing the right shoes. But power doesn’t need to shout.”

That was when Matthew entered, drawn by the noise.

He stopped mid-step, eyes scanning the tension in the room. “What’s going on?”

Lydia was still breathing heavily, eyes wide, one hand bracing the wall.

But she straightened quickly and forced a smile.

“Nothing,” she said, almost breathless. “We were just… talking.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes but didn’t press further. He glanced at me. I offered nothing but a faint smile.

“I’ll be gone in three days,” I said calmly. “You can go back to playing house then.”

And I turned away, as if the whole thing bored me.

Coward, both of them, I sneered inwardly. Lydia didn’t dare to tell Matthew that I had beaten her cause she was supposed to be the warrior while I was just a weak Luna. How wrong they were.

Annisa joined me quietly once I stepped into one of the guest bedrooms. The space was bare, unfamiliar, but it felt better than any other rooms in this pack, even the study which now seemed to hold a suffocating weight.

“Luna, Kyle asked me to remind you to have more rest,” she said gently, her voice still a little raw. “He said not to push through the list tonight.”

I sank onto the edge of the bed with a small exhale. “He’s right. We’ll finish it tomorrow.” My voice was hoarse. “We’ll move in three days.”

She smiled, bowed lighty, and stepped out, closing the door behind her softly.

I stayed there for a moment, staring at the wall.

I hadn’t planned to cry. I hadn’t planned to argue. And yet, today had chipped away at parts of me I thought were long buried.

Reinald had said he was going to help us move before he dropped us off.

But I wasn’t done.

Not yet.

I picked up my phone and dialed the Luna Queen.

Because on the day I left the Whitemaw Tails Pack… I wanted to make a statement no one could ignore. I wanted them to remember it. I wanted them to know they never broke me—and I was taking everything they didn't realize they stole from me.

And when they became aware of the fact, everything would already be too late.