The Rogue’s Luna

I remember the blood.Not just the metallic sting of it in the air or the way it soaked into the soil under my bare feet. I remember how it felt. Warm, sticky, terrifying. It ran down my father’s temple in slow drips, each one marking time like a cursed metronome. My mother’s heartbeat was the last thing I heard before it all went still.That night ruined everything.It was supposed to be just another Moon Gathering. The elders said the blood moon was rare, a symbol of strength, a time for all packs to meet and share peace under the stars. I wore my best white dress, the one with tiny flowers stitched into the hem, and my mother had braided my hair with bits of blue ribbon. I felt important, maybe even a little magical.But the magic didn’t last.The first scream cut through the silence like claws through flesh. Then came the sound of wolves shifting. Not the usual kind either, these weren’t peaceful wolves joining in the ritual howl. These were hungry, angry, wild.They were rogues.

(Sera’s POV) My heart is still racing when I walk away from him.It’s not supposed to be like this. I’m not supposed to feel anything, especially not for someone like him. But here I am, my pulse erratic, my breath shallow, and my mind spinning in every direction. Lucian Hale, the Alpha of Silvermist Pack. The man who exudes power like a weapon, the one who’s not afraid to use it, and yet somehow... somehow, I can’t shake the thought of him.Maybe it’s because of the way he looked at me, or maybe it’s the fire in his eyes that’s dangerous enough to burn everything in its path. But whatever it is, it stirs something deep inside me. Something I’ve kept buried for years.I can’t afford to be distracted. Not now. Not when my mission is clear. I came here for a reason, and that reason isn’t to get tangled up in some Alpha’s games. I’m not interested in playing by their rules. And I’m certainly not here to fall for someone who thinks he can control me.But the thing is, I didn’t come here

“You didn’t tell me you knew how to fight like that.”The voice came from behind me, smooth and lazy. I didn’t even need to look to know it was him.Lucian.The hairs on my arms stood on end, my body instinctively tensing. I kept walking, ignoring the way his presence filled every corner of the hallway behind the training grounds. My boots echoed against the cold stone floor, but his footsteps were silent. Still, I knew he was there. lurking like a predator who had no need to rush the kill.“I don’t owe you an explanation,” I said, not bothering to turn around.A pause. Then, “No, you don’t.”I stopped. My hand rested on the metal handle of the door leading outside, but I didn’t push it open yet. The air around us thickened, like fog laced with static. I hated how he made everything feel more alive. More dangerous.“But you walked into my territory,” he added, “and into my trials. You’re not exactly a ghost anymore, Sera.”I slowly turned around to face him. He leaned against the wall

I didn’t sleep.Not because I was scared. Fear was too soft for what twisted in my chest.I was restless.All night, my fingers played with the hem of the sheet, my body aching from the maze, and my mind tracing paths that didn’t exist yet. What I did yesterday… it worked. I caught Lucian off guard.But it wasn’t enough.Getting through the maze was survival.Getting close to him, that was the beginning of war.Morning came too fast. Pale light soaked through the barrack windows. Girls rushed around the bunks, excitement bubbling in their throats like champagne. Giddy. Nervous. Trying to convince themselves they had a chance.Mara handed me a piece of bread and a tight look. “They posted the next test.”“What is it?”“Combat rounds.”I chewed slowly. “Weapons?”She shook her head. “Claws. Teeth. Nothing but your own strength.”Figures.My body hadn’t fully recovered from the maze, but I didn’t let it show. Bruises could heal later. Bones could rest later. Right now, I had a part to pl

The first time I killed a man, I was fourteen.I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t run. I just stared at my hands and thought, so this is what it means to survive.Nobody taught me how to fight back then. There were no instructors. No drills. No strategy sessions around a campfire.Just instinct. Hunger. And blood. Always blood.“You can’t eat berries that close to the road.”I turned my head fast, a sharp snap of my neck, ready to bolt.But it was only her—Ayla. Thin as bone, faster than anyone I’d met in the wild. She must’ve been sixteen then, maybe seventeen. Smelled like pine needles and sweat.She tossed a small rabbit at my feet. I didn’t move.“Don’t make me regret helping you,” she said.“I didn’t ask for help.”She crouched low. “No. You just looked one second away from collapsing.”I remember trying to glare, but my vision was hazy. My stomach hollowed out like someone had scooped it clean.“You alone?” she asked.“Always.”“Good.”I blinked. “Why?”Ayla’s mouth twitche