You are my Luna, you don't get to walk away

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~~IRENE POV~~

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Tonight, the grand hall was beautifully decorated and the light glowed under the chandeliers. Music swelled, a lively tune that filled the air.

A banquet.

A welcome celebration.

For her.

Amira.

The celebration was already in full swing, a glittering spectacle to show the world she was back, whole and radiant, while I was left to rot in the shadows. I’d sworn I wouldn’t go, Not tonight. Not to watch them fawn over the woman who had bled me dry, who had stolen my life and left me hollow.

The door opened without a knock.

Trenton.

He filled the doorway like a storm, his presence sucking the air from the room. His suit was black, sharp as a blade, his hair slicked back with cruel precision. His blue eyes raked over me with disdain, as if my very existence offended him.

I ignored him, focusing on the coat I was knitting.

“So now you're pretending I don’t exist?” he asked bitterly.

I retorted coldly. “I don’t have to pretend when you’re already dead to me.”

His jaw clenched. “Irene, enough.”

I looked up slowly. “Enough? You came into this room trying to force to attend your mistress party. And now you’re shouting enough?”

He looked like he wanted to shout, but instead, he schooled his expression.

“You’ll do your role as Luna,” he said, his voice cold, his eyes boring into me. “Or have you forgotten the consequences when a Luna refuses her duties?”

I glared at him, my hands clenched into fists, nails biting into my palms. “Consequences?” I spat, my voice low but sharp. “What more can you take from me, Trenton? You’ve already taken everything.”

He stepped closer, towering over me, his face a mask of control. “Don’t test me, Irene. You know what happens when you… disobey.” He mocked devilishly, his words were a threat, heavy and familiar.

The words slid through me like poisoned daggers. He didn’t need to spell it out. I knew exactly what the word ‘disobey’ meant. My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat.

I knew Trenton didn’t care about me playing Luna. He just didn’t want the other packs whispering, suspecting cracks in his perfect little empire. Appearances were everything to him. Goddess forbid they suspect the truth—that the great Alpha Trenton Rivers treated his Luna like dirt under his boots.

“I’ll go,” I forced out, the words bitter as ash on my tongue.

His smirk deepened, satisfied. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, his cologne lingering like smoke.

I sank onto the bed, my body trembling, the weight of three years of pain pressing down on me. I was thinner now, my curves gone, my face hollow with dark circles that never faded. I was a ghost of myself, mocked by the women, ignored by the men, trapped in a life that wasn’t mine anymore.

Soon after, a maid came, sent by Trenton, carrying a new gown. Silky, deep blue, shimmering like midnight.

“Alpha said to dress you,” she said with false sweetness.

I stared at it for a long moment. The first new dress I’d been given in three years. I stared at it, my stomach twisting. It wasn’t for me, not because he cared. It was for his image, so I wouldn’t disgrace the Alpha.

The maid laced me into the gown, tugging until I could barely breathe. When she was done, I turned to the mirror. The woman staring back was a stranger. Thin, frail, her skin pale as porcelain. The gown hung off me, loose where curves once filled it. My hair, once a river of fiery silk, now dulled like rust.

All a mockery of who I used to be.

The hall silenced when I entered.

Chatter paused, and dozens of eyes turned to me. I felt their stares. Some pitying, some mocking, some indifferent. I kept my head high, though my hands trembled, and found a corner to sit in, away from the crowd.

From there, I watched him.

Trenton, standing at the center of it all like a king in his court. His arm was around her waist, his smile wide as he introduced her to high-ranking guests from other packs. He laughed, touched her hair, leaned close to whisper in her ear. She laughed softly, tilting her head with practiced grace, her chocolate-brown hair cascading over one shoulder like a waterfall.

Amira.

She was radiant. Beautiful in that fragile, doe-eyed way that men adored. And he looked at her the way he had never looked at me—not even in the beginning.

My chest tightened until I could barely breathe. Three years of degradation, of agony, of being nothing but a womb on legs—and this was my reward. To watch him parade his mistress before me like a jewel he’d polished with my blood.

I stopped a passing servant, my hand trembling as I snatched a glass of wine. The bitter liquid scorched my throat, but it couldn’t burn away the humiliation.

Behind me, the women’s voices grew louder, their words cutting like blades.

“Look at her, sitting there like a kicked puppy,” one said, her voice dripping with scorn. “Some Luna. Can’t even keep her Alpha’s attention.”

“Pathetic,” another chimed in. “No wonder he chose Amira. Even throwing a big party for her! Irene’s nothing but a second-hand goods.”

“Who’d want a woman whose babies always die?” one said, her tone dripping with disdain.

“Maybe she’s cursed,” another murmured, fake sympathy dripping from her tone. “Or a witch. Why else would the Goddess take every child?”

I stared at my glass, pretending not to hear, but their words cut deep, each one a fresh wound. My babies. My heart ached, the memory of their cries echoing in my mind. The humiliation stung, hot and bitter, but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Suddenly, a soft voice cut through the noise.

“Ladies, that’s enough.”

I turned, and there she was.

Amira.

She stood before the group of women, her expression soft, almost chiding. “That’s no way to speak of Irene. She's still the Luna. Show some respect.”

The women fell silent, chastened. One even stammered an apology.

My lips curved in a smirk that held no humor. Too kind, aren’t you, Amira? Sweet little savior in silk. I knew the truth that lurked behind those big brown eyes.

One of the women tittered nervously. “You’re so gracious, Amira. You act more like the real Luna than…” Her gaze flicked to me. “…than she does.”

The words sliced through me like glass.

Amira approached the women, her dress shimmering, her smile perfect. They fawned over her, praising her beauty, her grace.

“She’s more Luna than that one,” one of them said, loud enough for me to hear.

“So kind, so elegant.”

“Her father is the King of all werewolves, she's untouchable. Am jealous!”

“Trenton is the luckiest man! With Irene the worthless omega, he's doomed. But with Amira by his side? His pack will soon surpass many others!”

Amira basked in their spotlight before turning to me, but acting as though we were old friends, her eyes gleaming with something dark.

“Irene, you look lovely tonight,” she said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

I tilted my head, matching her tone. “You’re too kind.”

She leaned closer, her breath brushing my ear like a serpent’s hiss.

“Shame your children weren’t,” her voice dropped to a provocative whisper meant only for me. “Maybe then they’d still be alive.”

The world went still. My blood roared in my ears.

I moved without thinking. The wine in my hand sloshed crimson as I flung it in her face.

Gasps erupted around us.

“You bitch,” I hissed, my voice shaking with fury. “You don’t get to talk about my children. You took them from me!”

The hall went quiet, the music fading into the background.

Amira gasped, stumbling back, her hand to her cheek like I’d slapped her.

The crowd murmured, their voices rising.

“She’s lost her mind!”

“A Luna acting like a madwoman?” another cried.

“Where is Alpha Trenton? She should be dethroned!”

Trenton’s bestfriend, Jacob, pushed through the crowd, his face hard.

“Irene, how can you stand there and cause a scene?” He gritted, loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re worthless. You bring shame to this pack.”

Amira’s best friend, Clara, a slender woman with sharp eyes, rushed to her side, hugging her. “Without Trenton, you’re nothing, Irene,” she spat. “If Amira wasn't ill before, Trenton wouldn't have chosen you! Amira is Luna material and also from a powerful pack and you? You're a nobody without any background. Despite your worthlessness, Trenton made you Luna. You should be grateful for what he gave you instead of disgracing him! Why hurt Amira?”

I laughed, a bitter, broken sound that silenced them all.

“Grateful?” I said, my voice rising.

And then came the words that changed everything.

“I’ll leave.”

The hall froze. Every eye turned to me as the words hung in the air like shards of ice.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Wolves exchanged stunned glances.

“Leave?” a woman scoffed. “Who’d give up the riches, the title, a man like Alpha Trenton? She’s bluffing!”

I stood there, trembling, my heart pounding. They didn’t understand. They saw the wealth, the power, but I saw the truth; Trenton’s cruelty, his obsession with Amira, the way he kept me caged to use me for her. I was done.

Trenton’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and cold. “You’re not going anywhere, Irene,” he said, stepping forward.

The crowd parted, their eyes wide.

“You’re my Luna. You don’t get to walk away.”