All Chapters of Wrath Of A Scorned Luna : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Serena’s body hits the ground with a wet, heavy thud.I stand over her, my chest heaving, my hands slick with blood that looks black in the moonlight.The piece of metal I’d hidden under my mattress, the one Kate somehow knew about, is buried in Serena’s throat, exactly where Kate said it should go.Except I didn’t plan this. I didn't even prepare for it.It just… happened.When Serena lunged at me with murder in her eyes, something primal took over. My body moved on pure instinct, dodge, grab, strike. All those months of Kate’s brutal training crystallizing into one perfect, lethal moment.Serena is still twitching, blood bubbling from her lips as she tries to speak.I should feel something. Horror. Guilt. Remorse.Instead, I feel… nothing.Just a cold, hollow emptiness where my conscience used to be.“Mabel.”Kate’s voice doesn’t startle me. Somewhere deep down, I knew she’d been watching.I don’t turn around. Can’t look away from what I’ve done.“Is she dead?” I ask, my voice eeril

Sleep doesn’t come.How could it, after seeing a ghost?I lie in the massive bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying Elara’s warning over and over in my mind.*Before he kills you too.*Alistair had dismissed the servant girl quickly after my revelation, then spent twenty minutes checking every corner of the room for… what? Intruders? Magic? Evidence that I was losing my mind?He found nothing.“You were exhausted,” he’d said finally, his voice carefully neutral. “The wedding, the stress, everything you’ve been through. Sometimes the mind plays tricks…”“I know what I saw,” I’d interrupted coldly. “And so did that girl. We both saw her.”He’d looked at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.“Elara is dead,” he’d said quietly. “I buried her myself.”Then he’d retreated to his own chambers without another word, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.Now, hours later, I’m still awake, every shadow seeming to hide threats.The clock on the mantle chimes three

The dress they bring me is armor disguised as silk.Deep crimson, the color of blood and power, with a high collar and long sleeves that hide the scars covering my arms. It clings to my new body, emphasizing the strength I’ve built rather than trying to hide it.I look dangerous.Good.Two servants help me with my hair, pulling it back into an elaborate style that showcases my face rather than hiding it. They apply cosmetics with trembling hands, clearly terrified of making a mistake.When they finally finish and step back, I barely recognize the woman staring back at me from the mirror.Gone is the soft, gentle Luna who used to smile too much and apologize for existing.In her place is someone harder. Sharper. Someone who looks capable of violence.Someone who looks like she belongs beside the Demon of the North.“My lady,” one of the servants whispers. “The Alpha is waiting.”I take one last look at myself, committing this moment to memory.Then I walk out to face the man who destro

The healer confirms it three hours later.I’m pregnant. Six weeks along.“Congratulations, my Lady Luna,” she says nervously, her hands trembling as she packs away her instruments. “The baby appears healthy. Strong heartbeat. Though I’d recommend…”“Leave us,” Alistair interrupts from where he’s standing by the window, his voice flat and emotionless.The healer scurries out without another word.Silence fills the room like a living thing.I’m still sitting on the examination table, my hand pressed to my stomach where something impossibly small and fragile is growing. A life created from… what? We never…“How is this possible?” I finally ask. “We’ve never been intimate. We’ve barely touched each other.”Alistair turns from the window, his expression unreadable.“There are old legends,” he says quietly. “About powerful wolves conceiving through spiritual bonds rather than physical ones. When two wolves of exceptional bloodlines form a deep connection, even one based on shared purpose or

Alistair shifts fully into his massive black wolf before the first rogue reaches us.He’s magnificent and terrifying—larger than any wolf I’ve ever seen, his fur dark as midnight, his eyes burning with primal fury.He tears through the cursed rogues like they’re made of paper, his jaws crushing bone, his claws rending flesh.But there are too many of them.For every rogue he kills, two more take its place.My wolf screams at me to shift, to fight, but Alistair’s words echo in my mind: *You’re pregnant. You’re the primary target.*If I shift, I become a bigger threat. A more visible target.But if I don’t shift, Alistair will be overwhelmed.A rogue breaks through the line, lunging straight for me.The decision makes itself.My wolf explodes out, silver and furious and ready to kill.The rogue doesn’t stand a chance.I move with speed I didn’t know I possessed, my claws slicing through his throat before he can even react. His body drops, and I’m already moving to the next one.Fighting