Chapter 59
The Werewolf Realm
Clara's POV.
For days, I've been forcing myself to act like Marcy—smiling softly, speaking gently, pretending to care about everyone and everything. Honestly, it's exhausting. But pretending to be her isn't even the biggest problem anymore. According to Marcy's father—my fake father—things in the realm have gotten far more serious than I expected.
He even told me the Alpha got hurt.
At first my heart dropped, not because I cared—hell no. Why would I worry about the man who made my life miserable for years? Levi insulted me, humiliated me, rejected me… and yet he's still the most eligible male I've ever seen. My concern wasn't emotional. It was strategic.
If anything happens to Levi, my future dream of becoming Luna would shatter instantly.
Because from what Dad—yes, fine, I'll call him Dad while I'm pretending to be Marcy—told me, all eleven packs besides Red Moon were burned to ashes. Gone. Destroyed. The wolves who lost their homes will not remain loyal after the war. If Levi dies and there's no heir to take over, chaos will follow. The remaining alphas will fight each other like starving dogs, each trying to seize control of the Red Moon pack. And whoever wins will rule everyone… including me.
And I refuse—absolutely refuse—to end up tied to some old, wrinkly alpha or some young, awkward, inexperienced one who barely knows how to wash behind his ears.
Levi is perfect for me. Strong, feared, handsome, respected. I deserve someone like him. I deserve the throne beside him. I deserve to rule.
But surviving comes first. A dead Luna is no Luna.
So yes, I need Levi alive—for now.
I was deep in thought, thinking about all the ways I could secure my future, when a knock sounded at my door.
I almost snapped, "WHAT?!"
But then I remembered—I am not Clara.
I am Marcy.
Sweet, gentle, oh-so-kind Marcy.
I cleared my throat softly.
"Um… come in."
An omega entered with her head bowed.
"Miss Marcy, your father is requesting your presence in the living room."
I blinked.
"Oh? Dad is back? Okay. Tell him I'll be down in a minute. I just need to change into something presentable."
The omega hesitated, eyeing me strangely.
"Miss Marcy… may I help you pick a dress? You always asked me to help before. But ever since you returned, you haven't asked at all. You seem a bit… different. A little distant."
My heart almost flew out of my chest.
Different? Distant?
This girl was too observant for my liking.
But I forced myself to smile softly—Marcy's signature fake angelic smile.
"Oh… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you away. Please, help me choose. I've missed the way you dress me."
The omega—whatever her name was, who cares—brightened instantly.
Her whole face glowed like I had given her the blessing of the moon itself.
Tch. To think I, the glorious Clara, would apologize to a mere omega. The apology tasted like poison.
She hurried to my wardrobe and squealed.
"This one! This yellow dress—your favorite color! Let's try this, Miss Marcy!"
My eyes widened a fraction.
Yellow?
Yellow has ALWAYS made me look like a rotten banana. My skin tone and yellow are sworn enemies.
But I forced another soft smile.
"Oh… thank you."
When I put it on, I stopped for a moment.
It actually looked… good on me.
Or on Marcy's face anyway. Maybe this girl's perfect little sunshine face makes yellow look like gold.
Fine. I'll accept it.
I left my room and walked to the living room where my fake parents were waiting.
The moment Marcy's mother saw me, she gasped dramatically.
"Oh my goodness, you look so lovely and beautiful in that gown!"
I gave a shy laugh. "Thanks, Mom."
Dad smiled too, clearly relieved to see me . We made small talk for a few minutes—boring family chatter that I had to pretend to care about—until Dad cleared his throat.
That was when things shifted.
"Marcy dear…" he began carefully. "There is something important I must ask of you. It is risky… very risky… but I would be grateful if you could help."
My stomach tightened.
Oh, great. What now?
He looked nervous—Dad, a grown alpha wolf, nervous.
This couldn't be good.
"So… um…" he tried again. "I was thinking that perhaps… you could help on the battlefield. You have a very strong wolf spirit, after all. A white-breed wolf is the strongest. We're blessed to ha—"
Marcy's mother exploded.
"WHAT do you mean help on the battlefield?!" she shouted. "Do you want to kill my only daughter? She LEFT because of you, and now you want to send her to die?! Absolutely NOT!"
Dad tried to explain, but she was unstoppable—a furious mama wolf protecting her cub.
And I was grateful for it.
Because if they forced me to the battlefield, I would die instantly.
I don't have a white wolf.
My wolf is brown. Plain, powerful, but not as powerful as a white breed wolf.
If I shifted in front of anyone, I'd be exposed.
So I faked a coughing fit to interrupt them.
"Actually…" I said softly, eyes watering as I prepared the performance of my life, "something happened years ago."
Both parents froze, turning toward me with horrified curiosity.
"My love," Mom whispered. "What happened?"
I lowered my gaze, letting tears gather.
Here goes nothing.
"A rogue… attacked me."
I let my voice shake.
"I was robbed… and the rogue injected something into me. Since then… I haven't… I haven't been able to feel my wolf."
Marcy's mother gasped, instantly tearing up.
"Oh Goddess… my baby… you went through that alone?"
Dad's face crumpled with guilt.
"It's my fault. I shouldn't have pressured you. It's all my fault…"
I wiped fake tears from my fake eyes.
"It's okay, Dad. It's in the past now."
Both parents reached out to comfort me.
Then I gently added,
"I still want to help… just not on the battlefield. Maybe I can help protect the women, children, and elders here in the pack."
Dad exhaled in relief.
"That would be wonderful, Marcy."
Mom nodded quickly.
"Yes, yes. That is better. Just be careful."
I smiled sweetly at them.
Inside, I was smirking.
If I protect the pack, I'll look responsible. Brave. Useful. Levi will notice. And when he becomes Alpha King after the war, I'll already be shining in his eyes.
Perfect.
Dad didn't waste any time. He took me to one of the secret shelters—large underground spaces designed to hide pack members if the demons suddenly attacked.
When we finished touring the place and stepped outside, I saw him.
A man with golden-brown hair and striking emerald green eyes.
He was sparring with another man—one with glowing golden and shimmering red pattern across his skin.
A Goldren.
Oh…
So this is one of those legendary warriors Dad mentioned.
But the green-eyed man…
He moved with controlled precision, every muscle tense and powerful.
When he noticed me staring, he paused mid-swing and looked directly at me.
Cold eyes.
Sharp glare.
Even his frown was gorgeous.
I should have looked away immediately, but I couldn't. Something about him held me in place. Annoying… but mesmerizing.
Realizing I was staring too long, I quickly turned and walked ahead, leaving Dad behind.
"Hey! Marcy—wait for me!" he called out.
But I didn't stop.
My heart was beating a little faster.
And for the first time in a long while…
I wasn't thinking about Levi.