Isla’s POV

They wheeled me back inside after the stone.

After the blood.After the humiliation.

My thighs were numb, but fire still crawled up my back. I couldn’t tell if it was the rain, the pain, or the memory of my mother’s ashes—

scattered like nothing.Like dirt.

Like I never mattered.

The Omegas said nothing. Just rolled me into the servants’ quarters like a sack of bones.

That was fine.Let them think I was finished.

Let them believe I was blind and broken.

They didn’t know what I’d found.They didn’t see my toe twitch beneath the blanket.They didn’t feel the heat that had returned to my blood.

So when morning came, and the orders were delivered—I was ready.

“The Alpha says she must prepare the Gathering feast,” a servant whispered.I was lying in bed, face to the wall.

“She must cook and serve all Alphas and their Lunas.”

“She can’t even hold a spoon,” someone muttered.

“She’ll do it,” another said. “She’ll die if she doesn’t.”

They underestimated how far I’d already died inside.

Kale appeared hours later, arms crossed, Jason standing awkwardly behind him.

“The Luna Gathering is at dusk,” Kale said sharply. “Make yourself presentable.”

I said nothing.He stepped forward, grabbed my jaw roughly. “Speak.”

“My apologies,” I whispered. “I’ll do as commanded.”

His lip curled in a cruel smile. “Good girl.”

Jason looked away. Kale walked out.

Nia entered next.Perfume thick as syrup. Robes of red and gold.Smiling like a crowned cobra.

“Oh cousin,” she purred. “I hear you’re cooking. So noble of you. But if you poison the stew, we’ll make Caius flog you next.”

I didn’t reply.Not even when she pulled at my hair roughly, twisting it into a bun that pulled my scalp raw.

“You’ll serve wine. You’ll pour it in silence. You’ll scrape bones from the floor when the feast ends.”

She leaned close.

“And don’t look at the Alphas. They don’t want to see your cursed face.”

I smiled gently, the way the blind might.

“I’ll serve my Pack. As Luna.”

Her smile slipped.She stormed out.

…

They dressed me like a forgotten widow.

Pale gray dress. No shoes. No makeup. No jewelry.Hair scraped back like I was already buried.

The Pack House gleamed.Tables stretched across the dining hall. Silverware polished. Candles lit.

Laughter echoed like thunder.

Alphas and their Lunas, Beta couples, warriors from neighboring regions.The elite. The power-hungry.And me.A crippled Luna with a ladle and a broken back.

I rolled into the hall alone, a tray on my lap.

Soup. Roasted meat. Honeyed bread.

The room hushed.Whispers began.

“That’s her?”

“She looks dead.”

“She served rogues and lost her womb.”

“Why is she even here?”

I kept my eyes down.Let the tears sting silently.

Let the shame soak through my bones.

Kale sat at the head. Nia beside him. Caius on her lap like a little crowned prince.She kissed his forehead, whispering sweet nothings while glaring at me.

“Bread to Alpha Desmond first!” she barked as I reached for the wrong plate.

“Yes, my apologies.”

I changed course. Slowly. Blindly.

I heard him before I saw him.

A deep, cool voice that sliced through the noise like a blade.

“She’s still Luna, isn’t she? Show some respect.”

The room stilled.Forks froze mid-air. Nia’s giggle died in her throat. Even Kale glanced up.

I lifted my head slightly, just enough to glance through my lashes.

A stranger stood in the doorway. Tall. Broad shoulders cloaked in a charcoal coat. Dark hair swept back. And eyes—gods—silver like moonlight on a blade.

Alpha… someone.I didn’t recognize him. But he stared at me like he could see past my blank gaze. Past my silence. Straight into the bones of my fury.

I lowered my eyes again and resumed wheeling forward, inch by inch, toward the long table with the heavy tray balanced across my lap.

Until—Nia stuck out her foot.Just a little. Just enough.My wheel caught.The tray jolted.

And everything—crashed.

Plates shattered.Soup splashed.Bread hit the marble floor with a wet thud.

And I—I fell.Face-first. Onto the cold, polished stone.

Hot lamb broth soaked through my tunic. Something sharp sliced my palm. My cheek pressed into crumbs and soup and shame.

The gasps came first.Then the laughter.

Snickering. Snorting.

“Clumsy bitch.”

“She’s always been cursed.”

“Probably wanted to serve a rogue banquet—”

Howls of laughter. Silverware clattered,I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t—

A hand. Large. Warm. Calloused. Slipped under my arm.

The stranger lifted me like I weighed nothing, placing me gently back in the chair with a strength that didn’t show off — it just was.

Then he turned.His voice was ice.

“You should all be ashamed. She is still Luna. For one more day. You owe her that.”

Silence.Even Kale said nothing.

He didn’t protest. Didn’t defend me either.

The man wheeled me out himself.Through the heavy doors. Into the quiet corridor.

He stopped when we were alone, and leaned slightly toward me.

“You can stop pretending now, Isy.”

My breath caught.I jerked my head up.

And stared, it was Rick.Older. Stronger. Taller. But still him.Still that crooked half-smile, and those storm-silver eyes I thought I’d never see again.

“You… You’re early .”

His smile faded. “And I’ve come to take you away.”

Tears burned my lashes. “It’s not time.”

His jaw tensed. “I know. But watching them treat you like this—” He exhaled sharply, like he might go back in there and tear Kale’s head off.

“I need to finish it,” I whispered.

He nodded once. “One more night,” he said softly. “Then I burn this place to ash.”

He lifted my hand and kissed it.And like smoke, he vanished into the shadows.

I wheeled myself back, alone.This time, I didn’t go into the hall.I went to the kitchen.

Peeling potatoes until my knuckles split.

Stirring broth until my arms shook.

Kneading dough while the musicians played and Nia spun in her lavender dress and Caius told lies with syrupy charm.

They laughed.But they didn’t know, that I will become the owner of their pack in one day time ,they didn’t know my legs were healing.

Didn’t know the last true Luna had her claws again.I scraped trays. I swept crumbs.

And when the floor was clean and the ovens went cold, I slipped into the pantry.

There, from beneath a hidden flap in the crate of flour, I pulled out a scroll sealed with a sigil made of silver wax and moonstone ash.

The Lunaris Scroll.My final claim, and my letter severing me and my identity from this Pack erasing everything about me,making me a Rogue.

It had to be filed at the High Commission before the bond was severed—or all claims to Luna status would dissolve at midnight tomorrow.

But I couldn’t walk into the central tower.

Not like this.I touched the tiny bronze bell beside the scroll.Within seconds, the raven arrived.

Jet black, with shimmering feathers and moonfire eyes. The crest of Wolfram’s messenger birds glimmered under its throat—a magical courier trained to travel between packs and commissions.

“Take this to the Commission in Ashford,” I whispered. “Luna Isla of Wolfram. It must be logged before sunset tomorrow.”

The bird dipped its head.And vanished into the wind.I sat in the hallway long after.

Shaking. Trembling. But smiling.Because they thought they’d broken me.

But in truth—They’d only given me time.

One more day, and my claws would no longer be bound.

The contract would break, and with it my revenge then I wouldn’t weep.The Pack would.

Because I would make it rain fire.

Isla’s POV

The day began like any other.Rain-slick stones. Cold breath on the glass.And Nia’s laughter echoing down the halls.

I woke before the sun. Bathed myself in silence. Dressed in gray.Today was preparation day.

Tomorrow, she would wear my crown.

The omegas barked orders. The maids scrubbed walls. The seamstresses stitched red thread into Nia’s Luna robe — silk dyed with wolfsbane and gold.Superstition said it kept the rogue spirits out.

I smiled.Let them stitch. Let them pray.

There were no spirits coming for them.

Just me.

…

By mid-morning, I was assigned to polishing cutlery.Alone in the pantry, surrounded by rows of ceremonial knives and chalices meant for blood-oaths and pack feasts.

They didn’t trust me with food today.

Not after what happened at the Last Supper.

Not after a “clumsy Luna” spilled broth on the wrong Alpha’s shoes.

Good. Let them fear me.I had just begun folding the linens when I heard it.A soft flutter. A claw tapping on the glass.

I opened the window.The raven sat on the sill — soaked, regal, and bearing a silver scroll tucked beneath its wing.

The sigil on the scroll shimmered like frost kissed by moonlight.The Wolf King’s seal.

My hands trembled as I broke it open.The parchment unfurled like a sigh.

.,..

To Luna Isla of House Wolfram,

By the Order of the High Commission, and under the authority of His Majesty, the Wolf King:

Your petition has been reviewed and granted.

Effective immediately, you are hereby stripped of your status as Pack-Bound.

You are no longer a subject of the Wolfram Pack.

You are a rogue by declaration.

And as per your legal right, you are now the rightful owner of the Wolfram Pack, its lands, its holdings, and its titles, under Title 17 of the Moon Accord.

As requested, this ruling will be made public on the morrow — at the exact hour of the Luna Ascension.

Let it be known:

The Rogue Queen now owns the Pack that cast her out.

May your fire cleanse what failed to love you.

Signed,

King Varron, High Wolf of the Nine Realms

….

I pressed the letter to my chest.My breath came in shallow bursts.I wasn’t crying.No.

This was something worse.This was a kind of joy twisted so tight it cut.

They thought tomorrow would be her coronation.

They didn’t realize it was my execution of mercy.

Let them celebrate.Let Nia bathe in wine and perfume. Let Kale sharpen his blade and practice fake vows in the mirror.

Because I was no longer their Luna.I was their queen.And their judge.

….

That night, I wrote my letter.

Every word carved from bone.

To Alpha Kale,

You once told me wolves didn’t lie — that we just omitted what hurt too much to say.

But I heard you.

I heard you the night I was fighting for my life ,you said you planned it all, because your true Luna was back.

I heard you say you secretly implanted a pup in me because your beloved did not want to ruin her figure. You called me a Surrogate.

I heard everything.

And I let you speak.

I let you lie.I let you feed more lies to your son and your mistress’s delusions.

But I never forgot. And I never stopped watching.

Tomorrow, when you crown your new Luna…

You will receive a scroll. A royal one.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll feel what I felt the day you scattered my mother's ashes on the stone steps like they were dust.

Tell Nia to wear red. It hides the blood better.

PS: I own you and all you own , but I will give you grace till I am ready to take it all from you.

Happy Expired mating Day , Expired Mate.

Sincerely,

The Rogue Queen

I put it in a beautiful box wrapped with a huge red ribbon and left it on Kale's Den Desk.

I went off to the back of the house where the plumbing control was, I opened the faucet and without checking I knew all the taps in the packhouse were running.

Then I went back, picked up my carry-on and walked out through the omega exit to the back of the building, where I saw Garrick .

“Ready?” he asked.

I smiled and nodded as I turned one last time to see water flowing from every part of the packhouse.

“ Goodbye Wolfram Pack, enjoy this tiny gift “ I said with a giggle.

As I walked away with Garrick , I knew this was just the beginning of what I had planned for them.

And I knew it would be Epic--What awaits him next is nothing but bloody storm!