The Outcast Luna’s Reckoning

Elara's POV

The morning sun streamed through the high windows of the Silver Ridge training hall, turning dust motes into dancing flecks of gold.

It was a beautiful morning, the kind that promised hope and strength.

In the center of the hall, the air was thick with the scent of pine, sweat, and raw power. 

The sound of wood striking wood echoed like gunshots.

“Again!” my father’s voice boomed, filled with a pride he never used for me.

I watched from the periphery, my knees stinging against the cold stone floor. 

My adopted sister, Kaelith, was a blur of lethal grace. 

Her silver-blonde hair was pulled back in a tight braid as she sparred with three warriors at once. 

She moved like a storm, her Alpha-born instincts guiding every strike. 

When she landed a spinning kick that sent a grown man stumbling back, the hall erupted in cheers.

They looked like gods. I looked like a smudge of dirt on their polished floor.

I dipped my brush back into the bucket of gray, soapy water and began to scrub again.

My hands were raw, the skin cracked from lye and hard labor, but I kept my head down.

If I stopped, the Beta’s wife would find a reason to use her whip, and I already had enough scars.

My name is Elara Vance.

To the world, I am the daughter of Alpha Vance and Luna Vance. I am the biological heir to one of the most powerful bloodlines in the North.

But in this pack, I am simply the mistake.

While Orest, my eldest brother, was groomed to lead the warriors, and Kaelith was brought in to be the true female Alpha the pack deserved, I was the Omega, a biological glitch who couldn’t even shift. I wasn’t treated like a daughter; I was treated like a slave who happened to share their DNA.

“Look at her,” I heard a girl whisper from the sidelines. “Still scrubbing. It’s a miracle she’s even allowed to share the same air as Kaelith.”

I was the Alpha’s daughter, too.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, keeping my eyes locked on the gray water in my bucket. I could feel the heat of their stares, but I pushed the brush harder against the stone.

‘Just a few more feet,’ I told myself. ‘Just finish the hall.’

Suddenly, a pair of expensive leather boots stepped into my path.

I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs, and looked up to see Sarah, one of Kaelith’s inner circle, holding a dark purple protein shake. 

With a cruel, deliberate tilt of her hand, she poured the thick liquid directly onto the patch of floor I had spent twenty minutes scrubbing.

“Oops,” she mocked, a jagged smirk crossing her face. “Looks like you missed a spot, Omega. Clean it up. All of it.”

I stared at the dark stain spreading over the white marble. 

Exhaustion and fury tightened my chest, but I forced my hands to remain steady. I reached for my rag, my fingers trembling…

Crack!

“Aagh!” I gasped as a white-hot flash of pain exploded across my shoulders. 

I slumped forward, my hands splashing into the filthy bucket of water.

The Beta’s wife, Margaret, stood over me, her silver-tipped whip already coiled for another strike.

“You, clumsy, useless girl!” she spat. “I give you one simple task… keep the hall pristine for the Alpha, and you can’t even manage that without making a mess?”

“I didn’t… Sarah spilled it. I was just about to—” I tried to protest.

Crack!

The whip bit into the small of my back. 

I let out a choked cry, my vision blurring.

“Stop being stupid and shut up!” Margaret screamed, leaning into my face. “Stop making excuses! Do you think I’m blind? I see a stain, and I see you sitting next to it. Clean it, or I’ll skin you alive!”

Around us, the training halted. 

Warriors and younger wolves began to point, their snickers filling the hall like the hissing of snakes. 

The humiliation weighed more heavily than the pain.

“Look at the little princess,” one of them jeered, followed by a chorus of mocking laughter that made my ears ring.

They weren’t just watching a servant get punished. 

They were enjoying the sight of their Alpha’s blood being humbled.

The heavy thud of boots approached.

My heart leaped. I knew that stride.

I raised my head, squinting through tears, hoping, praying that for once, the man who gave me life would see the truth.

My father, Alpha Vance, stood towering over me.

He looked down at me, but there was no fire of protection in his eyes. 

Only cold, soul-crushing disgust. 

He scoffed, the sound cutting deeper than the whip.

“Useless,” he muttered, shaking his head.

He turned to Margaret. “Keep the noise down. You’re distracting the real wolves from their work. Don’t waste so much energy on a lost cause… get her out of my sight. Elara, stop making a scene and do as you’re told.”

My eyes widened, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. 

He had seen everything. He knew I was innocent. But to him, I wasn’t a daughter, I was a nuisance.

“Yes, Father,” I whispered, bowing my head so low my forehead touched the cold, wet stone.

Margaret grinned, a predatory glint in her eyes, and flicked the whip across my calf one last time, just for the pleasure of it.

“Father!” Kaelith’s voice rang out from the center of the hall, bored and impatient. “Are we going back to training or not? Come watch my new defensive set. Stop wasting time on stupid things that don’t matter.”

My father didn’t look back. 

He didn’t acknowledge my pain. He simply turned on his heel, his face softening into a proud smile as he walked toward his true daughter.

“You’re right, Kaelith,” he called. “Let’s not let the help ruin our morning.”

I blinked rapidly, forcing back tears. 

Crying would only be seen as weakness, another excuse for punishment. 

My chest ached as I scrubbed the purple stain, my vision swimming.

‘I am his daughter too, I screamed silently at his retreating. ‘I carry the same blood. It isn’t my fault, I was born this way. I didn’t choose to be an Omega.’

The Moon Goddess was silent. My father never turned around.

Margaret lingered, hovering like a vulture, the whip twitching in her hand as she watched my raw, bleeding fingers until the marble shone. 

Only then did she sneer and kick my bucket, slopping filthy water over my feet.

“Move it, girl,” she barked. “Get to the kitchens. The real warriors will be hungry after training, and the meat needs to be prepped. If the meal’s late, I’ll make sure you feel it.”

I scrambled to my feet, muscles screaming, and hurried toward the back of the pack house, keeping my head low as I passed rows of lockers and the stench of expensive leather and ego.