Redemption Of The Rogue Luna

Korra couldn’t remember the last time she had slept peacefully. Night after night, her dreams were interrupted by the bite of cold creeping through her ill fitting clothes, the gnawing ache of hunger from being underfed, or the heavy sound of her father stumbling home, reeking of alcohol, and tonight was no different.The first thing she heard was the pounding on the door. It wasn’t the gentle knock of someone needing her; it was brutal, angry, and relentless.“Korra!” Her father’s raw, hoarse voice dripped with fury. “Open this damn door!”She jerked awake, her heart hammering. For a moment, she was disoriented, caught in that foggy space between dream and reality. She tried to focus, and slowly, the tiny room came into focus: the peeling wallpaper, a lumpy mattress shoved against one wall, a single cracked window that leaked the thin gray light of dawn. Her throat was dry and her stomach cramped violently as she swallowed down the lump rising in her throat.“I know you are in there

“Make me a good offer, and she’s yours.”The words shredded what little was left of the child Korra had once been, the child who had once thought love might save her.Korra crouched in the corner of the small room, her arms locked tightly around her knees, shaking so hard her teeth rattled. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the drunken laughter on the other side of the wall. The smell of smoke and sour liquor seeped under the door, clinging to her skin, choking her.Her father wasn’t just starving her anymore. He wasn’t just hitting her; he was selling her.And Korra… Korra was too weak to run.**************Her mind drifted back to the day she had lost her mother, the day her life had split into before and after. For years, she had buried it, refusing to return to the moment when everything changed, but it rose now like a ghost she could not banish.She had been eight. The house had been poor and crumbling, but it had her mother in it, and that had made all the difference.

MATEKorra’s legs barely held her as the Moonhowl patrol closed in. Their formation was precise, disciplined, and every movement was calculated. Their eyes lingered on her too long, not with pity, but with suspicion, as though she were some dangerous beast rather than a trembling girl too weak to remain standing. Weapons were lowered but not relaxed, their edges gleaming faintly in the torchlight.Two wolves flanked her in perfect unison, and her body went rigid. Her instincts screamed, run, fight, hide, but her limbs betrayed her. They trembled, with sluggishness and exhaustion, her bruised skin was tight with pain, her torn clothes clinging to her like a brand of shame.“Bring her,” the leader ordered.The command left no room for resistance.Before Korra could move, they grabbed her with calloused hands and seized her arms. She flinched violently, her throat closing around a cry, her whole body recoiling as though touched by fire. Bruises already marked her skin in sprawling conste

Two guards led Korra to the pack house the morning after her release from the cells. They made her walk barefoot along the gravel path, and her wrists still had faint bruises from the night before. Every step was a reminder of her new reality, a life bound to servitude among those who despised her.When they reached the omega quarters behind the main hall, one of the guards shoved her lightly toward the open doorway. “Your new home,” he sneered. “Try not to cause trouble.”The quarters were dim and cramped, nothing like the grand mansion she had glimpsed earlier when she first arrived. A few narrow bunks lined the wall, their thin blankets rumpled and gray. The air smelled faintly of detergent and sweat. A few omegas looked up from their chores, curiosity flickering across their faces before they quickly turned away.Korra said nothing. She kept her head bowed and her hands folded, just as she had done all her life when survival meant silence.***************By midday, she was assig

BEYOND “Help!” Korra screamed, her voice bubbled as the water filled her mouth. Her limbs went numb as the cold bit through her bones. The moon blurred above, fractured by the rippling surface.From the bank, the men smirked as they watched her struggle.“She will crawl out,” one of them said.“She’s not that weak,” muttered another.But she didn’t because the seconds stretched, then minutes, and no movement or sound came from the stream.Halven’s smirk faltered. “Pull her out,” he snapped, as panic crept into his voice.They all waded into the stream, dragging her limp body onto the muddy shore. Her hair clung to her face, her lips turned pale, and her half-open eyes saw nothing.“Shit,” one whispered. “She is not breathing.”“Do something!” another barked.Halven knelt, pounding on her chest, his hands trembling. “Come on, come on!” He breathed air into her mouth, but nothing happened.“She is dead,” one finally said, his voice shaking. “She’s dead, Halven!”Halven’s face twisted.