Layla

I’d been waiting for over an hour, pacing restlessly outside the emergency wing, my whole body trembling.

I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t think straight.

My ears kept ringing, the pressure on my hearing getting worse by the second.

Then, the Moon Goddess granted me her blessing. I could hear the sound of Naomi’s heart monitor.

Then the door swung open and Dr Francis¬—my mum’s old friend stepped out. The moment he saw me, he pulled down his mask and gestured with a tilt of his head for me to follow him into his office.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” he said, his voice serious. “If you’d arrived even a little later, she wouldn’t have made it.”

“Is Naomi going to survive?” I asked, barely breathing.

He paused, clearly reluctant to answer. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, thank the Moon Goddess. How's Naomi?" I asked him straight away.

“I’m sorry, Luna Layla. One of her legs is still functional—she might walk again. But her heart… she’s only got three months left, at best—and that’s with constant support from the hospital’s Healers.”

“Then do whatever it takes,” I said firmly. “I’ll get her heart stabiliser serum.”

He nodded, and without wasting another second, I drove straight back to the pack house.

As I sped down the road, my mind pulled me back—five years ago.

Naomi was born with a weak heart. The prognosis had been brutal: her inner wolf might never awaken. I nearly lost my mind… until Alpha Tristan pulled me back from the edge.

“I’ll do anything for our daughter,” he’d said. “She’s a gift from the Moon Goddess—the last girl born under the Sagittarius witch bloodline.”

Those words became my anchor through endless dark nights, as I searched desperately for a heart donor.

Failure after failure, but Tristan stood by me. He held me through every breakdown. Whispered that hope still existed.

And then—I found it. A perfect match. From someone in my own bloodline.

My mother. I was ready to give up my own heart, but she beat me to it.

Then came the explosion in my lab. The radiation leak.

I lost my hearing—something that shouldn’t even be possible for a werewolf.

But it happened. Silence wrapped around my world like a shroud.

Mum offered her heart without hesitation. “Finish your research,” she told me. “I believe in you.”

I returned to the pack house to collect Naomi’s blood samples, so I could run some proper tests and get accurate results.

But the moment I stepped through the front doors, a scent hit me—sharp and unmistakable.

Rovena’s pheromones… mixed with Alpha Tristan’s seed.

I crept towards the master bedroom, heart pounding—and through the tiny crack in the door, I saw them.

Naked. Twisted around each other on our bed, sweat clinging to the sheets I once called heaven.

My heart shattered. The betrayal hit me like a silver bullet. I blacked out.

The next morning, I woke to find Alpha Tristan beside me, carrying a tray of breakfast and a glass of water.

“Here, love,” he said, his hand movements in sign language. “Take your meds. You fainted last night. Doctor said you’re just overworked.”

His eyes looked the same, but the bond between us was dead. There was no spark left—just the cold ashes of a once-burning love.

“I came for Naomi’s blood samples. I’ll be on my way,” I said flatly.

“Need a warrior to escort you?” he asked, stroking my cheek like we were still lovers.

I turned away. I couldn’t bear the lies written all over his face.

I knew exactly what he wanted—to get me out of the house so he could go back to fucking her, undisturbed.

Fine. He could have her. I was done.

Love was dead. Trust, obliterated. All that remained was ice.

“I won’t be funding your research any longer, Luna,” Alpha Tristan snapped at the interpreter beside him.

He no longer spoke to me directly in sign language—he wouldn’t even look at me.

“I thought the pack’s finances were stable.”

“They are. You’re the problem. You broke my trust. You cheated—with your best friend.”

He slammed a photo down in front of me—me and my best friend outside a hotel.

“I went there to help him say goodbye to his dying mate!” I snapped.

But Alpha Tristan had already made up his mind. He waved a journal at me—one forged in handwriting like mine.

Pages filled with lies, saying I’d lusted after my best friend and regretted mating with Alpha Tristan.

I never wrote that bloody journal. But I knew who did.

From that day, he treated me like dirt.

He cheated first. Then painted me the villain.

As I stepped into the main hall of the pack house, Rovena’s dark aura slammed into me like a wall.

She stood there with arms folded, eyes dripping arrogance.

“No wonder you’d rather stay away from the pack,” her voice slipped into my mind with her magic, like poison.

“And no wonder you prefer crawling all over someone else’s mate,” I shot back. “Shouldn’t you be off turning frogs into coconuts or whatever it is half-baked witches like you do? Mistress? Don’t make me laugh.”

Her face turned a deep shade of purple—but she caught herself, switching tactics.

“Your reign is over, Luna Layla,” she hissed.

“Not yet, Rovena. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Ooh, scary. But thanks, really. Knowing Tristan finally got that heart—it’s made me so excited to face you.”

She chipped away at my mental defences. My fists clenched. My claws pierced skin.

“I’m not just some mistress—I’ll be her Luna. The next Lady of this house. You and your brat can rot.”

I slapped her. Hard.

She needed to be reminded of her place.

But the damn witch was ready for it.

She snatched a candle off the shelf, burned her own face, and screamed bloody murder.

“I’m sorry, Luna! Why did you do this to me?!” she wailed at the top of her lungs.

Alpha Tristan stormed in, eyes glowing red, claws out. He didn’t even hesitate.

He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me clean off the floor.

“You dared lay a hand on Rovena?! Is this how a Luna behaves?”

I thrashed, shaking my head, trying to explain—but his grip silenced everything.

“My face—aaaah! It burns!” Rovena cried behind him, her voice a perfect blend of agony and deceit.

He threw me to the ground like garbage. My spine lit up in pain, but the betrayal cut deeper.

“Pray I find it in my heart to forgive you, Luna Layla,” he spat. Then barked with Alpha Tone, “Warrior, lock her in the dungeon.”

Two warriors appeared, each grabbing an arm.

“No! Naomi’s in the hospital—she needs me!” I shouted.

“You think I care?” Alpha Tristan sneered. “I’ll drag you through hell itself if you ever touch Rovena again.”

Then he carried her out, like some precious prize.

I caught one last look at Rovena’s face as they disappeared down the corridor.

She was smiling.

I crumpled to the floor. My head pounded. The room spun. I could smell the silver in the dungeon air.

And then—darkness.

I prayed to the Moon Goddess, hoping this wasn’t the end. I needed to get out before this hell completely burned my soul to ashes.

Layla

The moment I opened my eyes, the thick stench of damp stone and mildew hit me like a wall.

The cold bite of the underground cell, the water dripping from the ceiling, the iron bars—everything told me I was still here.

Alpha Tristan hadn’t even bothered to take me to a hospital.

I lay on a thin pile of straw that barely passed as a bed. My stomach ached like something inside me had been torn apart.

My vision was blurry, but I could make out a figure by my side—Doctor Carr, adjusting the IV in my arm.

He used to be gentle, kind. Now he looked like a man walking on shards of glass. Like I was a ticking time bomb.

“Ah, you’re awake, Luna,” he said, his voice low but laced with relief—and guilt.

“How long have I been unconscious?” I asked, barely managing a whisper.

Instead of answering, he handed me a folded medical report. Neatly printed, official letterhead and all—Pack Hospital’s seal stamped at the bottom.

I read it slowly. Every sentence sliced deeper than any blade.

Patient exposed to high levels of airborne silver particles... miscarriage confirmed approximately 2–3 hours after maximum exposure... foetus estimated at 3–4 weeks...

My hands shook. I didn’t even know I was pregnant.

I blinked rapidly, willing it all to be a nightmare. But it wasn’t. It was real.

The only night it could’ve happened—was during the last mating season.

Alpha Tristan had come to me drunk, reeking of wine, his eyes bloodshot. He wrapped his arms around me, slurred sweet words, dragged me into bed... and I let him.

I clenched my jaw. Now that memory made my skin crawl.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I whispered. “And Naomi... why haven’t I been taken to see her? What’s going on?”

Dr Carr lowered his gaze. “I’ve... been instructed not to answer questions about that.”

I stared at him sharply, wanting to let my emotions out—but what’s the point? Dr Carr was just following someone else’s orders.

Before he could reply, footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor.

Rovena entered. She looked refreshed—almost radiant.

The burns on her face had all but healed, hidden under flawless makeup. That smug little smirk still sat perfectly on her lips.

“Out,” she ordered coldly. “We need a little girl talk.”

Dr. Carr hesitated, clearly torn, but left anyway.

“I want to see Naomi. Let me out,” I said, my voice trembling.

Rovena didn’t say a word. She just stared at me, her eyes glowing faintly.

Then, I heard her voice—inside my head.

“No need to raise your voice, darling. Words only cloud emotions. Let me show you the truth.”

She reached out and before I could recoil, her fingers brushed my temple.

A surge of magic rippled through the air. The world around me twisted and shifted.

I saw Rovena standing just outside Naomi’s hospital room.

“I’m here on behalf of Luna Layla. She’s currently handling matters with the Rage Willow Pack alongside Alpha Tristan,” she told one of the administrative nurses, who then guided her toward Dr. Francis.

Rovena handed over an official letter of authority, complete with Alpha Tristan’s signature.

“She won’t make it,” Dr. Francis’s voice echoed through the vision. “But we could keep Naomi alive for a few more weeks if—”

“No,” Rovena cut him off sharply. “Alpha Tristan and Luna Layla have instructed me to bring Naomi back to the Pack House.”

“No… NO!” My voice caught in my throat, strangled by dread.

The next image shattered what was left of my heart.

Naomi—my daughter—her tiny body laid out stiff and cold, wrapped in a white blanket.

Rovena stood over her lifeless form, a satisfied smile curling on her lips.

“You and your mother have always been in my way,” she sneered. “Soon enough, your mum will join you in hell.”

“NO, NAOMI!” I screamed. “DAMN YOU, ROVENA!”

"Go ahead and grieve all you want. One pebble out of the way. My child should be Tristan’s heir, not that crippled thing."

Owen. Their bastard child.

My body shook uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my cheeks. The world fell apart around me.

“Please...” I choked. “Let me out. Just tell me where her grave is... please.”

Rovena smiled, slow and predatory, like a lion savouring the last breath of a dying deer.

“You can leave... if you do exactly as I say.”

“Really?” I said quickly, defeated. “I’ll do anything.”

She leaned in close, her breath brushing my ear.

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll scrub the dishes. Muck out the animal stalls. And when Owen cries at night, you’ll be the one to rock him back to sleep. You’ll be his babysitter, Layla. Not the Luna.”

I stared at her, stunned.

She stood straight, smoothed out her designer dress, then headed for the door. Just before stepping out, she turned back with a devilish grin.

“Oh, and don’t forget... Owen’s birthday party is next week. Make sure you show up in your omega uniform, yeah? No acting high and mighty. You’ll be his nanny—in front of the entire pack.”

She gave a little giggle, then vanished beyond the bars.

I collapsed back onto the floor.

The world spun. My heart felt hollow. I hadn’t just lost Naomi.

I’d lost my dignity. My future. Even my identity as her mother.

All that remained... was pain.

But beneath the agony, something else stirred. A flame.

I would endure what I had to—until the day I made them pay.

Layla

I agreed to Rovena’s terms, just so I could know where they buried Naomi. But the storm inside me didn’t fade.

Meanwhile, she was painting her nails a blinding shade of pink, lounging comfortably in what used to be my room.

Used to be. She took it after tossing out all of my belongings.

When I found out she’d tossed away the photo of me, her, and Naomi together, I snapped.

“Who told you to touch my things?” I hissed, pointing straight at her smug, arrogant face.

“Trash belongs in the bin, not in a memory box,” she replied with a sneer.

I slapped her. Hard.

She could hold Naomi’s grave over my head, but throwing away the last pieces of her…

It was like robbing the bones of someone already stripped of flesh.

“We were never cruel to you. I never treated you like this. But you—you crawled your way in like a leech, feeding off our blood.”

“Oh, spare me the melodrama,” she said, laughing bitterly. “Alpha Tristan just needed someone to please him in bed—and an heir without any defects.”

I moved to slap her again, but she grabbed my wrist mid-air.

“One more slap,” she warned, her voice dropping low, “and I’ll bury your daughter’s grave so deep, no one will ever find it.”

“Rovena, love,”

Alpha Tristan’s voice called from the hallway.

He entered a moment later, expression unreadable as his gaze landed on me.

“Is she bothering you again?” he asked flatly.

“No,” Rovena purred. “She knows her place now. Did you need something?”

“I want you to pick the flowers for the hall decoration.”

“Roses. The ones from the garden,” she said sweetly. “And I want Luna Layla to pick them.”

“Fine. I’ll send someone to watch her,” he replied, not even sparing me a glance.

Then he turned to Rovena with a voice dripping in intentional cruelty. “I want you to please me now, Rovena.”

He said it loud enough—just to cut through me.

Rovena didn’t even blink. She walked up to him and kissed him—right in front of me.

If they thought this would break me, they were wrong.

There’s nothing left to shatter.

My heart died the day Naomi did—and with the pup I never got to hold.

**

I was trimming roses to decorate the great hall when it happened.

I didn’t see Owen sneak behind me and grab a stem I hadn’t de-thorned yet.

His loud cry tore through the courtyard, drawing the attention of every omega nearby.

Then came Rovena—eyes wild, storming toward me.

“What did you do to my son, you cursed wolf?” she shrieked, slamming me into the muddy ground.

A wave of her hand, and the rose stem twisted alive, its thorns slithering around my body like venomous snakes.

“You trying to kill him like your own daughter, huh?”

The pain from the thorns was bearable—but the illusion she cast with her magic turned it into something unbearable. My skin burned, torn from the inside out.

“Please—I didn’t see him, I swear! This hurts, please!” I sobbed.

“Feel it,” Rovena spat, tightening the thorny binds. “One moment I let my guard down, and you’re at it again, Layla. What would Alpha Tristan say if he found out you hurt his heir?”

And right on cue, he arrived. Alpha Tristan. His eyes were ablaze, his claws already bared.

“Let go of her, love. I’ll punish her myself—for daring to harm my son,” he growled, his voice like thunder.

His foot slammed into my ribs before I could even catch my breath. I coughed, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

"You believe her? Again?" I croaked. "You always believe her. You never even asked what really happened."

His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. So I went on.

"Do you know why I lost our baby? Because you left me bleeding after you caught the scent of silver on me. You thought I was cursed. You didn’t even look at me when you threw me in that cell. Naomi died because I was weak. Because you left me there to rot."

His fists clenched.

“And Rovena?” I pushed further, the fire inside me refusing to dim. “She took Naomi out of the hospital when she still needed treatment. She killed her. And you let her.”

His expression faltered for a split second, something flickering in his eyes. But it didn’t last.

Rovena stepped in again, casting another whisper of her spell.

“She’s lying, my love. Just like always.”

Rovena’s tone softened as she turned to Alpha Tristan. “Don’t punish her too harshly. Owen still needs a caretaker for his birthday party.”

Alpha Tristan nodded, brushing me off like dirt beneath his boot.

**

The next day, the grand hall of Rage Willow was transformed into a lavish wonderland for Owen’s birthday.

Glittering banners, enchanted balloons, a stage with performers—all for the perfect little prince.

I stood on the sidelines, invisible as ever, dressed in muted tones, holding a tray like one of the staff.

My heart feels empty. I used to feel proud when Alpha Tristan spoiled Naomi—on her third birthday. But now, that’s all just a memory.

Rovena made a show of laughing and whispering to the guests. Her words, always loud enough to sting.

“Poor Layla. Still clinging to the title of Luna, as if it means anything anymore.”

“She’s lucky Alpha Tristan even lets her live here.”

“What Alpha would want a deaf mate? She needs to take a good look at herself.”

They thought I couldn’t hear them. I growled low, letting my fangs show—a silent warning.

“She’s gone mad too,” one of them muttered as they walked off.

Let them talk. They can say whatever they like. Their words don’t carry the weight they used to.

But Elder Geoffrey saw. He saw everything.

When the cake was brought out, and everyone gathered to sing, he sent me message, [Layla, a word. In my office. Now.]