Queen Luna: Once Rejected, Now Ruthless

I never thought that at just eighteen, I’d be tossed out like yesterday’s leftovers—rejected by my mate, my so-called friends, my picture-perfect family, and my once-beloved pack. I mean, what the hell happened?It felt like only yesterday I was laughing too loud, flirting too much, and running wild through the forest trails with my friends, my worries limited to sneaking snacks, coffee in Wolf Academy or dodging combat drills. I was that girl. Spirited. Bold. The future Luna of Windor Pack. Or so I thought.But fate? Oh, she’s a twisted little monster with a flair for drama.It all started three months ago—December 28, my birthday. My big day. The day I was supposed to feel the first spark of my wolf. The Winter Solstice. An ancient blessing, rare and powerful, gifted only to those born when the moonlight kissed the snow and danced on the meadow like silver fire.That night was supposed to be mine.The feast was grand. Bonfires crackled. Lanterns floated. The entire pack gathered und

EDRIC MOON – KING ALPHA POVI stood still in the heart of my chamber, surrounded by servants I didn’t bother to see.The maids adjusted my tailored suits like their lives depended on it.Fox, my most loyal butler, placed a tray of hand-prepared delicacies on the table—imported, expensive, infused with rare spices. Food that cost more than most wolves earned in a year.I didn’t touch it.Hell, I hadn’t tasted anything in a decade.I’d forgotten the scent of desire. The flavor of hunger. The warmth of anything.Because I, King Alpha Edric Moon—the Golden Wolf, the only winged one in existence—had been without a mate. And with her absence, I lost everything.My appetite.My pain.My damn soul.I was alive, yes. But not living.The supernatural feared me. Humans idolized me. Billionaire. Ruler. Untouchable.But all of it? Meant nothing.The Moon Goddess had cursed me with power, with eternity—yet left me mate-less. Why? I had searched every corner of Scotland.Every pack.Every damn ball

First of all—I took a bath.Yes, a real one. In a freezing creek, surrounded by whispering trees and judging birds, but still. I bathed. With soap. (Thanks to the random bar I found in a drawer labeled "Emergency Exorcisms & Showers.")The carrot nearly passed out when I came back fresh.“Oh my roots—she doesn’t smell like burnt toast and regret anymore.”The apple tree dropped a blossom in celebration.Mr. Yellow clapped. Literally clapped.“And it only took a forest intervention. Growth.”“Shut up,” I grumbled, toweling my hair dry. “I did it for me. Not for you. Not for your mutant veggie gossip circle.”“Sure, Jan.”Anyway, with my neck still pulsing like someone tattooed lightning directly into my spine, and with my sanity barely hanging on a vine, I decided to finally clean the rest of the cabin. (Don’t get excited—I only did it because I tripped over the same crooked floorboard three times and stubbed my toe.)The floor creaked ominously as I swept dust and memories into a corn

Meanwhile…EDRIC – POVSomewhere in the northern forest, he felt it.A flicker of moon-tethered magic.A call.A heartbeat in the dark that didn’t belong to anyone else but her.“She’s awakened,” he whispered.And the golden wolf inside him snarled like it had been waiting a thousand years for this moment.KYLA – POVSo, here’s the thing no one tells you about summoning a disco chicken from a miscast spell:They. Poop. Everywhere. Glitter. Feathers. Confetti eggs.It’s a mess. I mean literal sparkly poultry chaos.I’d just finished wiping glitter off my eyebrow with a piece of old parchment (probably cursed, but whatever), when I turned around to grab a mop.Except—I accidentally bumped the tall mirror behind me.The mirror I’ve been pointedly ignoring since I got here.Because it hummed with power.It pulsed with forbidden energy.And earlier? It blinked at me.Blinking furniture is a big ol’ nope.But now?It lit up like a damn cinema screen, and honey—I forgot how to breathe.Bec

By sundown, I had peeked at the trapdoor six more times, got apple-slapped by the tree for yelling too much, and received a formal complaint from the ant kingdom written in breadcrumbs.And yet… beneath all the chaos, beneath all the sass and spiteful vegetables… that room still called to me.The mark on my neck?It pulsed every time I got near it.Like it knew something.Like it was waiting.For me.And maybe, just maybe…The mirror wasn’t what I should fear.Maybe what I should fear—Was who I might become if I don’t open that door again.I lasted exactly two days before I caved.Two.Dramatic.Loud.Veggie-sassed.Days.I tried ignoring the pulsing trapdoor. I really did. I picked tomatoes. I watered apple trees. I even helped a crying grapevine with emotional damage because apparently its ex was a raisin now.But the cursed lightning mark on my neck?Throbbed like a broken Bluetooth trying to connect to trauma.Every time I passed that damn trapdoor, it whispered:“Come back, Kyla