Chapter 6: Not So Weak Zara.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

It was almost insane—how quickly things were falling into place. Luna. I was now Luna. A bit lower than my original position but still high enough to bring my dreams close to me.

The damn title I had only ever heard reserved for she-wolves of noble birth, for perfect little wives bred for submission and politics. And here I was… a prostitute, a vessel reborn with a vengeance and one hell of a mission.

The crown on my head wasn’t real yet, but in my mind? It already sparkled.

I stood beside Alpha Stephan, my hand tucked in the crook of his elbow, and drank in the sea of stunned faces before me. Their scowls, whispers, tight-lipped glares… oh, how sweet their disdain tasted.

"Smile," Stephan whispered again, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “This is what you wanted. Isn’t it?”

I nodded, keeping my face turned toward the crowd.

My stomach was a mess of butterflies and nerves—the high of victory tangled with the fear of something sinister. My fingers brushed over the edge of the paper hidden in my bodice:

Palm groove. Midnight.

Who had slipped it to me? What did it mean?

And more importantly, what the hell had the real Zara gotten herself tangled in before I dropped into her body?

Still, I shoved the worry aside. Tonight wasn’t for secrets or worry. It was for strategy.

And marking.

I turned to Stephan,who was watching the crowd with a grim look, his fingers drumming rhythmically against his thigh like he couldn’t wait for the night to be over.

The idea of killing two birds with one stone didn’t sound too easy, especially with a man like him. But it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Gives me more opportunity to restrategize.

“I wouldn’t mind,” I said quietly.

He glanced at me. “Wouldn’t mind what?”

I stepped closer, my voice silk. “If you marked me tonight.”

His hand froze mid-drum. “What did you say?”

I tilted my head up, heart racing. “You chose me, didn’t you? I’m yours now. Why not seal it?”

His jaw tightened so fast I heard it click.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, without warning, his hand clamped around my wrist—tight. He dragged me off the stage so hard I nearly tripped on my gown, gasps echoing behind us.

“Let go—” I hissed, struggling to keep my balance.

He didn’t stop. We went through the back hallway, away from the party, until we burst into a small sitting room lined with books and a bar.

He slammed the door behind us and released me like I disgusted him.

“Get whatever foolish idea you have out of your head,” he snapped, his eyes dark, jaw locked in fury. “You think this is something more than what it is?”

I blinked. “You chose me—”

“I chose convenience. And what better convenience than my mistress,” he interrupted, voice razor-sharp. “Not love. Not loyalty. Not forever. You’re a name on a scroll that’ll shut the elders up and keep bitches like Sofia from throwing tantrums.”

Each word was a slap.

“You’re… angry because I asked you to mark me?” I whispered, disbelieving.

He came closer, towering. “You’re a placeholder. A damn bedmate who got lucky. Don’t go thinking this means more than it does. Stay in your place. Quiet. Decorative. Slutty. Like you’ve always been.”

My heart dropped. The room spun slightly. “So, that’s all I am to you?” I choked. “A body? A shield against politics?”

Well not like I gave a sh** about it. But it still bruised my already fragile ego.

“Exactly,” he spat, eyes burning. “So don’t push. And don’t get clever. Be the dumb little thing you’ve always been, Zara.”

My ears rang.

Dumb?

Little?

He didn’t know who he was speaking to. The real Zara might’ve flinched. Might’ve cried. But I wasn’t her.

I stood straight, ignoring the sting behind my eyes. “Maybe you should stop parading me like a trophy since I’m so damn disposable.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. But instead of replying, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I had imagined his rage… yes. But not this cutting rejection. Not this deliberate slicing of my pride.

And yet, as the silence echoed around me, a small voice in my mind whispered:

Be underestimated. Let everyone think I’m weak.

Because the moment you realize your prey doesn’t see you coming, that’s when you strike. I had learned that in a bitter way.

I wiped at my cheek—not from tears, but from heat—and returned to the party hall like nothing happened.

The crowd was buzzing again, music loud, wine flowing. I stood near the dessert table, blending in, sipping something fizzy that tasted like anger.

Then I felt her.

The sharp scent of jealousy. The cold heat of hate.

Sofia.

She moved toward me with two of her perfumed little friends—one blonde, the other with a face that looked like she bit lemons for a hobby.

“Well, well, well,” Sofia purred, circling me like a viper. “The gutter swine is finally going to get a taste of riches.”

I ignored her and took another sip.

“I must say, I never expected you to actually show your face again after what you pulled. Did you open your legs on command or did you have to beg? Before this all goes into your head, let me let you in on a secret. Stephan is just using you.

You’ll be dumped in the trash faster than hot potatoes.”

That makes two of us.

Her friends giggled cruelly.

I looked at her finally. “Sofia,” I smiled, “you’re embarrassing yourself.”

She slapped the glass from my hand.

The sound silenced a few people nearby. The shattered glass glittered like snow on the floor between us.

“You dare mock me?” she hissed.

I straightened slowly. “You should be careful, Sofia. Jealousy isn’t a good look on aging women.”

A scream of rage tore from her lips as she lunged.

Her fingers reached for my cheek but I ducked, grabbing her wrist and twisting it behind her back so fast she cried out.

I shoved her away and she stumbled, the flowers falling from her hair.

One of her friends gasped. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Try me,” I said, voice low.

The tension crackled between us. Around us, eyes turned, whispers flared. No one moved to stop us.

Sofia growled and made to lunge again but I stepped forward, face inches from hers.

“Do it,” I said, smiling with teeth. “I dare you.”

She froze.

I held her gaze for a second longer, then turned and walked away—slowly, enjoying the hate filled look that followed each step.

As I passed the glass shards, I didn’t flinch.

The Zara they all knew was dead. Time for a vengeful Luna queen to take the spotlight.