FROM SLAVE TO LUNA

Serena's POV "Just kill me, please." The words slip from my lips before I can stop them. My voice is hoarse, barely louder than a whisper. I hear gasps, but I could not care less. I have lost everything, my family, my home, my dignity. Death would be a mercy. The soldier holding me hesitates, his grip on my arms tightening. His blade hovers at my throat, close enough that I feel it bite against my skin. “Wait”, a voice shouts, it is a young soldier running towards us. “The General says we should not kill anyone till we get to the stronghold”. The cloaked figure waves his hands, and the soldier lowers his blade. I sigh in defeat, wondering why it is so hard to die. “Assemble every slave, we leave at dusk”, I hear him order and as soon as he says this, things become busy. Some soldiers transform into their wolves running to God knows where, while the others round up the slaves. My wrists burn where the silver chain bites into my skin. The Nythera wolves march me and the

Serena. I kneel before Tristan Sinclair, my fists clenched at my sides, fighting every urge to spit at his feet. His silver eyes glow under the moonlight streaming through the high windows. "You will show me your utmost submission at all times," he repeats, his voice as cold as the winter winds that once howled through my pack’s mountains. I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing my head down. I know better than to provoke him, but the silence stretches too long, and I see the flicker of amusement in his gaze, like a challenge. Before I can break and say something reckless, the doors to his chambers burst open. "Tristan!" A feminine voice rings through the room. A young woman, no older than me, storms in with wild dark hair bouncing over her shoulders. Then, she stops dead in her tracks, her eyes shifting between me kneeling on the floor and Tristan towering over me. A smirk tugs at her lips. "So, it's slaves now, huh big brother?" She crosses her arms, tapping a finger again

Serena.“She is my slave, brother”, Tristan seethes glaring daggers at Thorne.The council chamber is stifling, and it is not from heat but from the power emanating from these two powerful alpha heirs.Tristan’s grip on my wrist is tight. Too tight, but I do not wince because on my other side, Thorne holds on to me just as firmly.Two brothers. Two heirs. Both refusing to let go. The council members watch in deadly silence, nobody wanting to interfere. Time stretches for what feels like eternity waiting to see who wins.I already know the truth though, that this is not about me. I am just the stage on which their war plays out. So, I do nothing, I do not resist, speak or even react.I simply observe. Who will bend first? Who has more power? Who can I use to carry out my revenge? If I can become an ally of the strongest one, I can take down the other and then use his weakness against him.“Let go,” Tristan grits out, his silver eyes flashing with fury.Thorne does not flinch. He merely

Serena. I do not know how long I stand there, frozen in place. Tristan's words echo over and over again, cutting through me like a blade. Gasps ripple through the crowd. Some look confused. Others whisper amongst themselves. A public rejection is a scandal, a disgrace, and only for the rejected. Tristan could not care less. His silver eyes are burning with satisfaction. My legs are trembling and the mark on my throat is burning aggressively. The bond he forced on me is breaking very painfully and violently. I feel woozy because it is getting hard to breathe. Strong arms catch me before I collapse. “Easy,” a voice whispers. “I’ve got you.” I do not need to look up to know who it is. Thorne. His hold feels secure and protective. The crowd is still watching, Tristan is also watching as Thorne lifts his head, his silver eyes flashing.“Congratulations, brother,” he says smoothly. “You have made your choice.” Then, without another word, he scoops me into his arms and walks away. The

Tristan The council chamber stinks of desperation. Old wolves, wrinkled and worn, murmuring among themselves speaking of war, alliances, and strategy. As soon as I enter, the chamber goes silent and they all bow. I know why I have been summoned, it is the same reason I keep being summoned. At this point, it is becoming hard to hide my annoyance.“… She should be executed,” one of them says, his voice edged with steel. “The Alpha King would have never tolerated her continued existence.” A muscle ticks in my jaw. I lean back in my chair with a blank expression. “And yet, here she is,” I murmur, swirling the goblet of wine in my hand. “Still breathing.” There’s a tense pause. They’re waiting for my approval. The authority in my blood demands that I take control, that I give the final word. However, I will not, not yet anyway. She’s mine to break, mine to crush beneath my heel and truth be told, watching her struggle, watching the defiance burn in her eyes before she submits,