"You killed my baby! As the Luna, I'm ashamed, and I don't want to hear the verdict. Kill her!" Damien sneered, and I felt my heart fall into my stomach. The wave of betrayal hit me so hard after Damien ordered his man to take my life without giving me a listening ear for a crime I didn't commit. I felt the sharp pain of his bullet piercing my heart. My death was his end and my beginning. ^ ^ ^ Elara Jules was betrayed, framed, and executed by the man she loved—her Mate, Alpha Damien. However, fate wasn’t done with her. Reborn, with the knowledge of her tragic past, Elara is determined to rewrite her future, seeking revenge and reclaiming the power she lost.Dark secrets unleash as Elara fights her way into redemption. Would she give it all a second chance? Will love prevail, or will revenge her??
View MoreElara's POV:
The sharp pain in my chest came out of nowhere, wrenching a gasp from my lips as I stepped out of my bed. The world seemed to tilt, and my trembling hands reached for my phone on the nightstand.
My mate, the man I’d given my heart to, was the only person I could think of in that moment of pain. My fingers shook as I pressed his number.
"Please, Damien… Please pick up," I whispered hoarsely. My voice barely rose above a breath. The line kept ringing. But he didn't answer.
Tears blurred my vision as I dropped the phone on the bed. I pressed my hand against my chest, begging the pain to subside, but it only grew worse. I needed help. Summoning what little strength I had, I dragged myself to the door.
"Is anyone there?" I called out weakly. Silence greeted me. The Packhouse was unusually quiet, as if the world itself had turned its back on me.
I gritted my teeth and stumbled into the hallway, clutching the wall for support. Every step felt like a battle, the pain radiating from my chest down to my abdomen. When I reached the top of the staircase, my vision swam, and the edges of my world darkened.
“No…” I whispered to myself. I wouldn’t give in to the pain. I needed to get help.
But my foot slipped on the edge of the step, and I tumbled down, my body colliding with each step. By the time I hit the bottom, I was already weak.
Suddenly, warmth spread between my legs, and when I looked down, I saw blood.
"No….no, no, no!" I screamed, clutching my stomach. "Not my baby… please, not my baby!"
My scream must have reached someone, because moments later, footsteps thundered down the hall. A couple of Pack members appeared, their faces pale with shock.
“Luna! Someone call the healer!” One of them shouted.
I barely registered their movements as darkness crept into my vision. The only thought that kept me alive was my child—the thought of losing him gave me hope.
When I woke up, the white walls of the Pack clinic greeted me. My body ached in ways I didn’t think were possible, but the emptiness in my soul was far worse.
I instinctively placed a hand over my stomach, only to feel….nothing.
“She’s awake.” A soft voice said.
I turned to see Amelia, one of the healers, standing by the door. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying for me.
“Amelia…” My voice cracked. “My baby?”
Her lips trembled, and she avoided my gaze. “I’m so sorry, Luna. We… we couldn’t save him.”
The world shattered around me. My baby. My Child. Gone. Tears welled up in my eyes as I clutched the sheets.
Hours passed—or maybe days. Time lost all meaning. I kept waiting for Damien to appear, for him to storm in and take me into his arms, to grieve with me. But he never came.
When the healers finally discharged me, I clung to the faint hope that he’d be waiting for me at the Packhouse, ready to make amends. Instead, when I arrived at his study, his guards blocked my path.
“The Alpha is busy.” One of them said coldly.
I laughed bitterly. “Too busy for his mate? Too busy for the woman who just lost his child?”
The guards didn’t flinch. Their loyalty to Damien was unwavering, even when he didn’t deserve it. I turned away, tears burning my eyes as I made my way to my room.
Two days later, the pain returned. This time, it was worse. Three times worse. My chest felt like it was on fire, and I could barely breathe. But I couldn’t call for help. No one would listen.
I stumbled through the Packhouse, clutching my chest; my vision was blurry due to the unshed tears. But somehow, I made it to Damien’s office.
The guards exchanged a glance, and for once, they let me through without protest. My relief was short-lived.
The sight that greeted me froze me in place. Damien, my Mate, the Alpha I had devoted my life to, had his dick buried between the legs of Sabrina, his Beta’s sister.
Her moans filled the room as his hips moved against her. “Umm… yes, Damien.”
I couldn’t breathe. The pain in my chest exploded, searing through every part of me. My hands shook as I gripped the doorframe, unable to tear my eyes away from the betrayal before me.
“Damien.” I called out. My voice barely over a whisper, but it was enough to make him look up.
His golden eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, something flashed across his face. Was it guilt? Regret? It disappeared too quickly to tell.
“Elara.” He pulled away from Sabrina, his tone flat and devoid of emotion. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I… I was in pain.” I stammered, tears streaming down my face. “I needed you… I needed my Mate.”
Sabrina smirked, her arms still draped around him as if she had every right to be there. “Looks like your Luna doesn’t understand boundaries.”
I staggered backward, the weight of her words crushing me. Without another word, I turned and fled, ignoring the sharp protests of my body.
I loved Damien with everything I had. From the moment the Mate Bond snapped into place, I believed the Moon Goddess had blessed me with someone who would cherish and protect me.
He was the Alpha, the strongest wolf in the CrimsonFall Pack, the man who once whispered promises of forever against my skin.
But those promises felt like ash in my mouth now. I stumbled back to my room, my mind replaying every moment of our relationship. The late-night walks under the moonlight, his rare but genuine smiles, the way he used to wrap me in his arms after a long day. Was it all a lie?
I sank to the floor, clutching my chest as sobs wracked my body. The bond between us, that was once a source of warmth and strength to me, now felt like chains digging into my soul.
How could he betray me like this? How could he claim to be too busy to see me while he had time to bury himself in another woman?
I pressed my hand to my stomach. My baby was gone. And now, it seemed, my mate was too.
Suddenly, my door was pushed open.
Elara’s POV~Julian stood in the middle of the Blade Tower’s forechamber, his black blade’s dull light shining weakly in his hand. His voice broke the silence. “You were not supposed to find this room,” he said, his voice, once used for mild praises at colleagues, was now different.To my left, Jasmine held out her short sword. Her eyes never left Julian’s. “Has it been long? How long have you been in his service?”Julian laughed sarcastically and bitterly. “For the Warden? Don’t flatter yourselves. I served the cause before it was known. Before Silver Veil, before the Alpha War. I was in service for the birth of this line.”“The Forgotten Sons,” Lyra said the name as though it were poison.Julian turned his head. “Our ranks have been decimated, but why we joined is not. We’re sharper now, freer.”“Traitors,” Damien snapped, taking a step towards him with his sword half drawn. “That’s what you are.”Julian glanced over at Damien, thoughtful. “You of all people should not talk of betra
Elara’s POV~The message that Lyra showed me was written in an ink that looked almost like dried blood. “You have to choose between your sister and the cause. We’re watching."She didn't say a word when she gave it to me, but only slid it to me across the table between us while the bell of the eastern tower rang twelve. I didn’t need to ask if she was afraid. I noticed it in her shoulders. The sister who had testified before the council without quivering was now quivering. We kept it between us. Not out of pride. Out of necessity.The Academy was still fractured. Some professors even refuse to teach Crownless-born wolves. Some resigned entirely when Jasmine came back with her rune scars throbbing on her wrist. Others… just watched. Waited. The Academy didn’t know how it wanted us to be. Saviors? Symbols? Or Monsters? And we hadn’t known the answer.Lyra didn’t sleep that night. I could hear her walking back and forth outside my door after the alarms in the courtyard had ceased. I kept
Lyra’s POV~The Academy was the same when we returned. The stone walls remained, old and strong. The halls still whispered the musings of young wolves and ancient professors. The banners still lined the walls of the grand hall, embroidered with old house sigils. The air … the air felt very strange. As if it had been taught how to bear secrets.The first protest was on the following morning. A warning sketched in red ink along the west courtyard wall :“Crownless blood belongs in chains.”There were three more by midday. One professor would not allow Jasmine to take her class. Two students walked by me in the hallway, murmuring, “Monster in a mirror.” Another bowed.We weren’t students anymore. We were symbols. Worshipped or feared. And I didn’t want either. The council’s chamber was crowded that evening with the council meeting. Heads of departments. Surviving pack elders. And even a few from the Southern Alliance. There was a seat for everyone where they always sat—except for Sabri
Damien’s POV~The northern tunnels were colder than fuckin death. The failed transports. The missions listed are closed in dusty files here. The wolves who “died in transit.” The sentence had haunted me in my first life.I had not informed anyone of where I was going. I had simply snuck out ahead of dawn, only leaving a message for Elara and the pack. Someone would follow, eventually. But I needed to witness this myself. I had to find out how deep this conspiracy went.Frozen air slapped me as I entered the mouth of the tunnel. I lit the torch with a rune torch, but his fire was already weak, burning beside the reverberating silence. The tunnel extended far, hundreds of feet of black starvation here and there relieved by supports gotten from the rock. Anchors, once used to suspend transportation hooks on the ceiling, had rusted in place. Straps lay frayed and abandoned on the ground, skeletal wounds of what was carried through here and never returned.I must have walked what seemed li
Elara’s POV~When the shard first started glowing, I thought I was tripping on it. It had remained asleep since Sabrina died. But as I strode through the nursery rooms of Mirrorvale, it came back to me. A low hum under my skin. Not a heat of anger, or terror, or pain. Just… choice. And it was calling to me. Lyra caught it first.We were stripping the children’s bunks and creating a pathway for Winifred’s doctors. I slipped, and I bumped into a fragment of shattered rune tile from a broken floor — and the shard in my chest echoed back against my ribs. Lyra dropped her chalk. “Elara,” she whispered, “your eyes.”I turned toward her. “What?”“They’re glowing.” I froze. My fingers tingled. I looked down. The line on my palm that I’d thought must have turned silver had turned gold.“It's responding,” Lyra said. “But not the way it used to.” When we got back, they had all formed a circle around us in the courtyard, the oldest of the Forgotten looking as uncertain and lost as the rest of us.
Jasmine’s POV~We rode closer to Mirrorvale, and the trees grew less and less. Thinner and quieter. As if even the wind had learned to hush around this place. It had once been a home. A shelter. A sanctuary for wolves whose bloodlines were “too diluted” or “too dangerous” to place normally. A lie. That’s what it was. It had been lying at a test site. Early mutterings of what would eventually become the Crownless Protocol. I knew because I had read the files. But none of what was in the files prepared me for what we found.The gates were rusty but unlocked. Vines crept over most of the outer stone. Caspian was a step behind me. Elara and Lyra hung back on the flanks. Damien was farther back. Watching. Always watching. The courtyard was still. But not empty. They came out when we came in. They’d arranged themselves in a loose circle around the fire pit, and they were watching us with wide, half-hollow eyes. Not one among them was over twelve.Some younger. And all of them were marked. T
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