LOGINTamara’s life changed the night she was bitten. She did not ask for the bond. She did not ask for the Alpha. And she certainly did not ask for his rejection, delivered in front of the entire pack like she was nothing. Exiled and alone, Tamara fights to survive while hunters stalk her and a prophecy whispers that her suffering is only the beginning. They call her the Luna born from pain, the Moon Flame Luna, destined to rise where others fall. But first she must survive the trials, face the enemies hunting her, and decide whether the bond that destroyed her is worth reclaiming. She fell first. She broke first. Now she will rise.
View MoreTamara’s POV
I sat across the manager’s table, my résumé clutched so tightly my knuckles ached, fingernails pressing little scars into my skin. I forced a brave smile, adjusting my posture to look more confident than I felt. For a moment, my eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow outside the window, tall, hairy, oddly animal‑like. “I’m definitely seeing things,” I muttered under my breath. “Miss Tamara?” the manager prompted, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Why do you want to work here?” Blinking, I dragged myself back to reality. “I… I need the experience,” I stammered, my fingers tapping nervously on the résumé as if answers would magically appear. “I’m hardworking, and I–” The manager glanced at the clock above my head, irritation creeping into his voice. “We don’t have all day, Miss Tamara.” A whisper brushed against my ear, low and haunting. My eyes darted to the window, then back to him. Get yourself together, Tamara, I pleaded inwardly. “I love reading and–“A low howl echoed faintly, cutting me off. The manager frowned. “You seem… distracted.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir,” I whispered. “I thought I heard something.” “This job requires focus.” His tone was firm as he closed the file in front of him and slid it back to me. “I don’t think you’re the right fit.” The words hit me hard. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to nod. “I understand.” I gathered my papers into my bag and left the room, head bowed, avoiding the eyes of the workers who looked at me as though they’d witnessed the rejection themselves. Pushing the heavy doors open, I stepped outside. The evening air was cooler, heavier. I decided to take the long route home, hoping it would give me time to gather myself. The wind danced around me, whispering reminders of yet another failure. My blazer clung uncomfortably, so I slipped it off. It felt like shedding the remnants of the interview, leaving me lighter. The path stretched endlessly, one street leading into another. The sky was painted in fading hues of orange, and streetlights flickered on, brightening alleys and corners as night settled in. After what felt like forever, a sharp sniff jolted me from my thoughts. I glanced at my watch. “8:36.” It was darker than I realized. My eyes scanned left and right, trying to place myself. I was closer to home now. Jen will be worried. Right on cue, my phone rang. I smiled faintly at the name flashing across the screen. The ever‑caring sis. “Tamara, please tell me there’s a good reason you’re not home yet,” Jenna’s voice came sharp with worry. I kicked at a stone, heels clicking against the pavement. “I’m sorry. I took the long route and got caught up.” “Let me guess, daydreaming about your books again?” she teased knowingly. Her exasperation made me chuckle. “Not this time.” Silence followed, heavy with the question I knew was coming. “How was the interview?” she asked softly, hope lingering in her tone. A sob threatened to escape. A tear slid down my cheek. I tried to be strong. It wasn’t the first rejection. I should have been used to it by now. “I didn’t get the job,” I admitted, my voice cracking as tears streamed freely. My grip tightened on my bag and blazer. “Oh, darling, they don’t deserve you. You’ll find somewhere better,” she said firmly. Somewhere better. It sounded more like a fantasy than reality. I sniffed, forcing a smile. “Maybe. I’ll keep trying.” “Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.” I lifted my head and spotted familiar buildings, including my sister’s shop, about fifteen minutes away. “Don’t worry. I’ll be home soon.” I heard her moving around, muttering about her keys. “That’s not your decision, Mara,” she scolded, her voice fading as she searched. I sighed, trying to sound steadier. “Really, I can manage. I’ll be there before you know it.” “Oh yes, you are,” she teased, her tone turning playful. “Would you deny Mr. Handsome, with eyes so blue you could drown in them, the chance to rescue a damsel in distress?” A blush crept up my cheeks. “Jen, stop,” I hissed, glancing around even though no one was there. She laughed. “Why do I feel like I know why you were distracted?” I ducked under a shade, trying to hide my burning face. “Was it something… or someone?” she drawled. Before I could answer, a noise echoed from the woods. My heart lurched. I cut the call, shoved the phone into my bag, and clutched my blazer tighter. My feet carried me closer to the forest. One part of me screamed to run home, but another, the part filled with imagination whispered that maybe this was the escape I’d been craving. I halted at the entrance. The woods were frighteningly quiet. Gathering courage, I stepped in. The half‑moon cast a dim glow, enough to outline large shapes but not the smaller obstacles littering the ground. Then those blue eyes flashed again. I squeezed mine shut, feeling hazy. Those eyes had haunted me for so long. The chirping of insects grew louder. I dropped my blazer and clutched my forehead, trying to steady the ringing headache. When it eased, I brushed off the leaves clinging to my clothes and picked up my bag. Just as I turned to leave, another pair of eerie eyes flickered and vanished. “Okay, Tamara,” I muttered, hugging my bag tighter. “It’s just trees. Just shadows. Nothing to freak out about.” A whisper brushed past me, faint as wind. I spun around. “Hello?” My voice cracked. No answer. My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it, too caught up in the moment. I forced myself forward, heart pounding. Then came the growl. Low. Rumbling. Close. My breath caught. “No… no, no, no.” From the shadows, it stepped out, massive, fur bristling, eyes glowing like embers. For a second, I thought it was a wolf, but it was too big, too deliberate. It looked at me like it understood. I stumbled back, My legs seemed glued to the spot, despite my frantic urge to flee To my horror, it lunged The weight of it slammed me to the ground. Fangs tore into my shoulder, fire exploding through my veins. I screamed, clawing at its fur, but the pain drowned everything. The world blurred. Somewhere in the chaos, I heard it, a howl, not outside, but inside my head, echoing like it belonged to me. Darkness swallowed me whole. Just before it claimed me, a name slipped from my lips without reason, without thought. “Percy.”Tamara’s POV The bass from the city square pulsed through the apartment floorboards, a low vibration that made the water in my glass tremble. I stood at the window, watching streaks of neon purple and gold climb across the Vyne City skyline. The festival had begun. “We aren’t going, Tam,” Jenna said firmly as she walked into the living room. She was already wrapped in an oversized sweater, her posture loose, signaling she had settled in for the night. “Kat said it’s dangerous. We’re staying here.” I turned from the glass. “I’ve been in this room for three weeks. Before that, four in a hospital bed. I feel like I’m fading.” “It’s one night,” Jenna argued, but her words faltered when she saw me gripping the sofa, my knuckles pale. “You’re still weak. You can barely make it to the kitchen without gasping.” “I need the air,” I whispered. “Just for an hour. The crowd’s human, Jen. Safety in numbers. We’ll grab food, see the lights, and come back. I just… I can’t be alone with my h
Tamara’s POVIt had been three weeks since I left the hospital. Three weeks of the same routine.My legs still felt unpredictable , heavy and unreliable, trembling if I stood longer than ten minutes. Most days I stayed wrapped in a knit cardigan, sunk into the sofa, watching the city move through the window as if it belonged to someone else.Jenna walked into the kitchen, her eyes scanning me the way they always did, searching for cracks.“Tam? You okay? I heard the kettle.”“I’m fine, Jen,” I said, though my voice carried more steadiness than I felt. I reached for a towel to wipe the spill. “Just jumpy today. Maybe it’s the noise outside. Everyone’s getting ready for the festival.”“The Lunar Solstice,” Jenna murmured, leaning against the doorframe. Her shoulders sagged with exhaustion. She had been pulling double shifts to cover for me, then coming home to play nurse. “The whole city’s going to be chaos. Parades, food stalls, tourists everywhere. I was thinking we should stay in. Or
Tamara’s POVThe first thing I noticed was the silence. Then came the squeeze of a blood pressure cuff around my arm, the only rhythm in the room.I forced my eyes open. The ceiling was a grid of white acoustic tiles. Sunlight, sharp and midday-bright, cut through the blinds, striking a plastic pitcher of water on the bedside table. I tried to lift my hand, but it felt heavy, like lead.A woman in navy scrubs entered, clipboard in hand.“You’re awake,” she said, her voice calm, professional. She stepped closer, pen clicking. “Don’t sit up too fast, Tamara. You’ve been under for a long time.”My throat burned, dry as sandpaper. “How… long?”“Four weeks,” she said, checking the IV line in my wrist. “You were brought in with severe trauma and systemic shock. Honestly, we weren’t sure the neurological damage would reverse. Your vitals stayed stable, but you wouldn’t wake up.”“Four weeks?” The number felt unreal. A month of my life gone. “Where am I?”“Vyne City General. Private wing.” Sh
Tamara’s POVMy eyes felt heavy, glued shut, but when I forced them open, I wasn’t staring at elegant wall of the Ashborne’s mansion or my room.I was standing in a hallway. The polished floor reflected the overhead lights. I looked down at my hands. No silver burns. My best blazer hugged my shoulders, the one I had ironed a dozen times for–“The company?” I whispered. My voice sounded thin, echoing against the glass partitions. The hallway looked familiar, too familiar.I knew this place. I had lived this morning before. The nerves in my stomach stirred like a dull memory of a life I thought I had outgrown. I walked toward the frosted glass door at the end of the hall. Gloria’s Marketing Solutions. The name was the same, but the air felt wrong.I pushed the door open. The person behind the desk wasn’t the same as that day. She typed on a keyboard that made no sound, her head tilted at an angle I would have recognized anywhere. She stopped, fingers hovering, and turned her chair.“You
Tamara’s POVEither I was having the worst hangover or I was being tortured. Except I didn’t drink. I corrected my inner voice. Then why did it hurt so much? My skin burned as if set on fire, and was that my sister’s voice? Where was I?Everything was too loud. I forced myself to understand my surr
Tamara’s POV I sat across the manager’s table, my résumé clutched so tightly my knuckles ached, fingernails pressing little scars into my skin. I forced a brave smile, adjusting my posture to look more confident than I felt. For a moment, my eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow outside the window, ta
Tamara’s POV The sunlight hitting the silk sheets felt like a physical assault. I sat up, vision swimming in a sickening haze. Every bone in my body ached. Each breath scraped through my chest like sandpaper.The heavy oak door clicked open. Elijah stepped inside, carrying a porcelain tray. He
Persia’s POV Her death chilled everyone. The cabin and woods had gone still, as if mourning Serene. I hadn’t known her deeply, but in the little moments we shared, I warmed to her instantly. After Kat and I had taken care of the body, I lingered with Tamara. She had grown thinner, her face drawn












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