"Let it go?"
The words echoed in my head like a cruel joke.
What exactly had Lewis ever let go of?
I stared at him, confusion twisting through me like a restless current. Julian's face darkened beside him, his jaw tight, eyes burning with something raw something dangerous. The tension between them wasn't just human frustration; it pulsed with power, thick with Alpha dominance and unspoken history. My wolf bristled beneath my skin, sensing that this wasn't just a petty disagreement. Something deeper was buried beneath their words something that smelled of betrayal and blood ties.
Across the clearing, Camilla basked in the pack's attention like the perfect Luna-to-be. Her smile glowed under the moonlight as pack members from the Morrigan lineage surrounded her, showering her with praise.
My mother Vivian, Beta of the Crescent Claw Pack stood proudly at her side, her voice honeyed with false warmth.
"Camilla, you're truly gifted," she said, practically glowing. "Only a few hunts, and you've already brought honor to the pack. You're thoughtful, disciplined, everything an Alpha could ask for."
Then her tone hardened cold enough to freeze the blood in my veins.
"Not like Elena," she added, her eyes flicking to me like a blade. "That girl always drew the wrong kind of attention. Her mentors said she had potential, but I've yet to see anything worthwhile. You're miles ahead of her, Camilla."
My younger brother Nolan chuckled, a cruel sound. "Speaking of Elena has anyone even seen her lately? Her scent's been cold for days. Probably sulking in the border woods again. Always unreliable, always causing trouble."
Someone nearby muttered, "I heard she ran off to the Cloudridge territory."
And then it began.
"She's selfish does whatever she wants."
"Always plays the victim when things don't go her way."
"When she finally comes crawling back, she should be ready to submit properly."
"If you ask me, she needs a good beating to remember her place."
Laughter rippled through them like a pack chorus.
I stood there, silent an invisible ghost among my own blood. Every word sliced deeper than any claw. They weren't strangers. They were my family. My pack. My supposed home.
And still, they shredded me like prey.
Camilla smiled sweetly through it all, her wolf purring in satisfaction. That flawless, innocent act the radiant Luna image she'd perfected. If only they knew. If only they saw the darkness in her aura, the manipulation in her gaze.
But no. They believed her every word. To them, she was light, and I was shadow.
Being betrayed by Julian my fated mate, the one my soul had recognized and burned for was agony enough. But hearing my own mother speak about me with such contempt… that was something else entirely.
I was her daughter. Her blood. Her wolf.
How could she despise me so completely?
I had always loved to paint the colors, the emotion, the freedom. My wolf found peace in it. But one year, on Camilla's celebration night, everything changed.
Vivian had stormed into my art room, fury rolling off her like wildfire. She didn't let me explain. She ripped through my canvases, claws out, paint splattering across the walls like blood.
"Your sister nearly died on patrol, and you sit here painting?" she screamed. "You heartless creature!"
That night, I realized something brutal Vivian had never truly loved me.
She had always wished it was me who'd fallen that night, not Camilla.
It was Camilla and Julian who betrayed me, who wove lies until I became the villain of their story. And yet, the pack blamed me.
Now, I was gone. Truly gone.
And what was my family doing?
Not mourning. Not searching.
Plotting how to break me when I returned.
I touched my face. No tears came. Only the hollow ache of something shattered beyond repair.
Outside, the snow began to fall the kind that silences everything. The moonlight painted the world white, eerily still. The same kind of night I'd been cast out.
Would they ever realize I wasn't coming back?
Soon, the pack network buzzed with whispers. The human world caught on too my name, my story, twisted into gossip.
#ElenaExposed
#DisgracedOmega
#CamillaTheChosen
#FatedBetrayal
The world had chosen its Luna and its villain.
And I? I was the shadow they erased.
I stood silently behind Julian, his scent still familiar cedar, storm, and something that once used to calm my wolf. Now, it only burned. His fingers scrolled rapidly across his phone, eyes narrowing as his brows drew tighter with every passing second. His Alpha energy pulsed with restrained anger, dark and magnetic, filling the room with dominance I used to crave.
Camilla clung to his arm, her voice soft, syrupy the perfect imitation of a submissive Luna.
"Julian, I didn't think things would get so out of hand," she murmured sweetly. "Maybe we should ask someone to take the trending posts down?"
Before he could respond, Vivian's sharp voice sliced through the tension like claws through flesh.
"Take them down? Why?"
She stood regal and proud, her aura shimmering with Beta authority the kind that demanded obedience, even from those she'd crushed beneath her heel. Her jewels sparkled beneath the chandelier, but her eyes were colder than ice.
"The pack's not wrong," she said flatly. "Elena tried to pass off another wolf's art as her own. Now that the truth is out, she has to deal with it. If she didn't want this backlash, she shouldn't have lied."
Her words hit harder than any blow.
Vivian reached for Camilla's hand, pride gleaming in her gaze. "Besides, this is helping Camilla. Everyone's praising her for being talented and kind-hearted. Why waste money clearing posts that are making her a star?"
Nolan's deep voice followed, steady but cruel. "She's right. The more the pack tears into Elena, the more perfect Camilla looks. Controversy draws eyes. Eyes build power."
Even in death, my pack still found ways to feed on what was left of me.
They didn't care about truth. Only status. Only image.
I thought back to the nights I spent in solitude, painting under moonlight, my wolf calm for the first time in years. I'd poured my soul into every stroke, hoping someone anyone would see worth in what I created. But Vivian had always sneered at me, calling it "a waste of an Alpha's mate."
Now she called Camilla a prodigy. My wolf snarled in the shadows of my mind. It wasn't that she hated art she just hated that it had come from me.
Julian remained silent, but his jaw flexed, his aura simmering with barely contained irritation. Camilla turned toward him, tilting her head, eyes brimming with mock concern.
"Julian," she said softly, "what do you think? Should we really leave those posts up? Elena's still your mate. If she sees them while she's away in Cloudville, she might get hurt."
For the briefest heartbeat, something flickered in his eyes. Doubt. Memory. Bond. But then the bitterness took over again, flooding his scent with iron and resentment.
"Hurt?" he repeated coldly. "She did this to herself. Let it stay. If she's embarrassed, maybe it'll make her come back faster."
His tone was detached. Empty. The warmth that used to echo in his voice was long gone, buried under ego and pride.
That was when I understood: I was nothing to him now.
Not his mate. Not his equal. Not even a memory worth defending.
They had the power to clear my name with a single command, a few words through the pack network. But instead, they let my name rot in the shadows, my spirit branded as a liar, so Camilla could shine brighter under their moon.
Was this what a family was supposed to be in the Hale Pack? Wolves who devour their own to feed their status?
I curled into the corner of the room, invisible and voiceless, my wolf pacing restlessly inside me, the bond between Julian and me now just an echo. They laughed, their scents mingling like a perfect pack, united in deception.
Maybe I was never meant to belong here.
Time lost all meaning. The hum of conversation faded. The warmth of the mansion's lights dimmed until only silence remained.
When I opened my eyes again, everything had changed.
The marble floor was gone. The laughter vanished.
I was standing in what looked like an underground den cold, damp, and heavy with ancient energy. The walls were carved from stone, etched with faint runes that pulsed faintly under the dim flicker of candlelight. The air was thick with the scent of earth and old magic.
And yet… my body cast no shadow.
The silence pressed down on me, thick and suffocating. My wolf whimpered inside me, uneasy. Something wasn't right.
Ahead of me stretched a long corridor lined with candles that swayed without wind. At the end of it stood a heavy stone door. Beyond it, I sensed something familiar. Something… wrong.
I followed the pull, heart pounding harder with every step until I reached the doorway. Inside, the air shifted cold, ancient, final.
On a stone altar lay a body. Pale. Still. Lifeless.
My stomach twisted as I stepped closer. The scent of death clung to the air like fog.
Then I saw her face.
Mine.
My breath hitched. The wolf inside me howled, a sound of denial, pain, and rage. There I was motionless, draped in the same torn dress I'd worn the night Julian betrayed me.
The world seemed to stop spinning.