Andromeda

Rain poured down in sheets as I knelt by Athena’s grave.

Cold water seeped into my collar, soaking my clothes, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache consuming me from the inside out.

My heart sank—never in my worst nightmares did I imagine this day would come. My little girl, who only wanted to celebrate her fifth birthday with her father, now lay beneath the earth… and here I was, her mother, staring at a gravestone instead of her smile.

Memories stabbed my mind like nails driven deep.

The way her tiny hands moved when she first called me Mum. The sparkle in her eyes when Alpha Rigel called her ‘little goddess’.

Those moments spun endlessly in my head like a cruel reel.

Back then, we were happy. A family. Finally complete after three long years of trying for a child.

I worked too much in those early days. The pack doctor said stress had delayed my ability to conceive.

Rigel insisted I quit my job.

By then, his start-up—Nebula Playworks—was finally taking off, making waves in the human world.

“You don’t need to work anymore, Andie. You’ve done so much for Nebula already. I want a pup with you. Let me take care of everything.”

And like a fool, I believed him. Because both of us wanted Athena.

Now all I had left was the little claw pendant in my hand—a birthday gift for a five-year-old who never got to wear it.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart… your last wish never came true.” I placed the necklace gently on her headstone.

Rain washed over my face, mingling with tears that no longer burned.

Then a shadow fell over me. A large black umbrella shielded me from the downpour.

“Luna Andromeda,” Beta Roland’s voice was clipped, formal. “Alpha Rigel sent me to fetch you. He’s waiting.”

For one foolish second, I thought maybe Rigel cared. That he regretted not coming with me, even after I told him I didn’t need him there.

But reality has never been that kind.

Back at the pack house, the truth hit me like a blade to the chest.

Mata Hari stood in the middle of the grand hall, dressed in a designer gown that hugged every curve—an image of sensual perfection for any he-wolf passing by.

Her hand clutched that of a little boy—Oasis—parading him like a trophy before the pack.

Beside her, Margareth beamed, making sure no one got too close to the pup for too long.

The whole display was pathetic. I almost laughed—but all I managed was a bitter curve of my lips.

Mata Hari’s eyes found mine. Her smile was warm—or rather, fake warmth wrapped in silk.

“Good afternoon, Luna Andromeda,” she cooed sweetly. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”

“Yes.” My reply was flat as stone.

Alpha Rigel stepped forward, voice carefully calm.

“Mata Hari will be staying here for a while—until she finds a place of her own. She… was rejected by her mate after suffering abuse. She needs a safe space to heal.”

I nodded once. “Do whatever you want.”

Inside, everything was numb. Lie after lie, piling up like a mountain of rotting snow.

No rage. No outburst. Just an icy silence freezing me from within.

Margareth swept closer, her sugary smile sharp as glass.

“Luna Andromeda, you’re being so cold. Mata Hari is our guest. As Luna, you should welcome her warmly.”

I met her gaze, voice steady. “I’m not a hypocrite like you.”

Her face hardened. “What did you just say? Don’t forget—I adopted you from that orphanage. Without me, you’d never be here, never become my son’s mate.”

I gave a short, humourless laugh. “And don’t you forget—I helped Alpha Rigel build Nebula Playworks from the ground up. If I hadn’t dragged myself through the mud with you back then, none of this would’ve survived.”

The tension snapped tight. Rigel cut in before sparks turned to flames.

“Enough. Mum, stop. Don’t bring up the past. Andromeda, please understand—Mata Hari needs time to recover. Try to… keep things positive, okay?”

Positive energy? Bloody hell—you’re the one who dragged that darkness into our pack with this pathetic little theatre act.

Back in my room, I sat in silence, piecing together the fragments of what was and what’s to come.

It didn’t take long for Mata Hari to snake her way into South Hallow.

Athena’s death paved her path—how tragic is that?

My hand drifted to my belly—the home of the Alpha’s true heir.

“Mummy will protect you, little one. Even if it costs me my life.” A tear traced down my cheek. “I’ll get you out of this hell.”

If my pup was going to be strong, then I had to be stronger.

Beta Roland summoned me for dinner—a formality I’d avoided since Athena’s funeral.

But tonight, I’d endure it. For appearances. To make Rigel believe I was still the dutiful Luna, all smiles and grace.

The meal was torture. I barely spoke, just chewed and swallowed, ignoring Mata Hari’s endless monologue about her tragic past and how noble Rigel was for saving her.

That must’ve stung her pride—because the next thing I knew, she gave a little gasp and “accidentally” spilled red sauce all over her own gown.

“Oh no, my dress!” Her voice trembled, a flawless act of helpless victimhood. “Luna Andromeda… I know you’re still upset with me, but—”

I shot her a cold look. “I didn’t even touch you.”

But Rigel whipped round, his voice sharp. “Luna Andromeda! You’re the Luna here. Control yourself. Mata Hari is always spotless—she wouldn’t do this on purpose.”

Something inside me cracked.

“I said I didn’t touch her. Keep accusing me and I swear I’ll walk out that door.”

“You—”

The slap came hard and fast.

Rigel’s hand struck my cheek. His eyes softened a heartbeat later, regret flickering in their depths.

“You hit me?” My voice was quiet. Broken.

“Andromeda… you should understand Mata Hari’s situation. She’s a she-wolf, like you. Neither of you wants to be hur—” He stopped, choking on his hypocrisy.

Hurt? You bloody hurt me the moment you marked her.

I curled my fingers into fists, nails biting my palms, stopping myself from clawing Mata Hari’s smug face.

“Alpha, I don’t want to cause any more trouble,” Mata Hari murmured, rising with a saintly sigh. “Perhaps I should stay at a hotel instead.”

Rigel gripped her arm instantly.

“No, Mata Hari. You’re staying here. I promised your father I’d keep you safe.”

Anger and despair fused into one bitter taste that coated my tongue.

I turned and walked out without a word.

Rigel didn’t stop me.

Not long after, he came to my room—wearing guilt like a second skin. He begged me to accept Mata Hari and Oasis.

What a joke. The universe really is playing me, forcing me to tolerate the woman who stole my mate.

“Andie, please. I promised the late Alpha Timothy I’d protect her. She’s been through hell with an abusive mate.”

“Do whatever you want. You’re the Alpha. I’m tired. Close the door on your way out.”

“You’re not angry anymore?” He looked at me like an idiot.

“I said I’m tired. I need rest.”

“…Alright. I’m sorry for what I did earlier.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

A text from an unknown number lit up the screen:

It’s time you learned who you really are, Andromeda Nielsen—Daughter of Alpha King Richard. If you want the truth, don’t block this number. You deserve your legacy.

I stared at the message, my heartbeat slow but heavy.

Was this real—or just another cruel joke to swallow?

Then came another image from the same sender.

A photograph of a Winchester Claw medal—the symbol of the oldest pack in existence—hanging around the neck of a one-year-old pup cradled in his parents’ arms.

Andromeda

Chaos in the pack house was spiralling out of control. Margareth sharpened her sarcasm like a blade, slicing me apart with every comparison to Mata Hari.

And Alpha Rigel? He flaunted his betrayal at every corner, as if he wanted to shove me out of South Hallow piece by piece.

Earlier today, when I went to retrieve Athena’s photos from her room, I heard them—Rigel and Mata Hari—mating with those disgusting noises.

In my daughter’s room.

And I stood there, powerless, outside that door.

The only thing I could do was record it all on my phone—evidence I’d one day throw in Alpha Rigel’s face when I finally walked away.

The weight of betrayal pressing on my chest only eased when my gaze dropped to my stomach, my hand resting softly on the life inside me.

I returned to my room and buried myself in work—gathering evidence of Athena’s death.

My fingers danced across files: videos, voice recordings, chat logs. Every trace of Rigel’s movements over the past two weeks, every whisper of deceit.

I would use it all during Athena’s memorial ritual.

I was focused on downloading CCTV footage from Golden Glee Park when the door swung open without so much as a knock.

Mata Hari stepped in—her movements rehearsed, her body the stage.

Her eyes glinted with smug delight, like a cat dangling its prey.

“Nice room,” she purred, scanning every corner. “No wonder you’ve been hiding in here.”

I didn’t look up. “Leave. I don’t have time for you.”

Her smirk curved like a dagger. “Did you like the little photo I sent?”

My fingers stilled above the keyboard. But I forced them to move again.

Maybe annoyed that I wasn’t rising to the bait, she nudged the glass by my laptop. Water spilled, flooding the keys.

“Oops… clumsy me,” she murmured with fake regret.

“Get out,” I said flatly. “Or better yet—go spread your legs for Alpha Rigel all day long.”

She laughed, wicked and shameless. “Thanks for the advice. Already did. Didn’t even need a reminder.” Her grin was pure devilry.

“Then what more do you want? My blessing?” I tilted my head. “Seems like you’re still worried I might ruin your little fairytale, Mata Hari.”

Her fingers gripped my chin, nails digging in. “I gave you eight years, Andromeda. Eight years. Now it’s my turn to take what’s mine.”

I stared at her, my hand sliding to my phone, tapping the recorder. I needed her confession—her sins carved in her own voice.

“Take him. I don’t care,” I spat. “Save your energy for pleasing Rigel. After Athena, he’s nothing to me.”

Her lips curled. “Ah, that brat…” she whispered, leaning closer. “When I told Rigel to send that mad hunter to kill you—for me and Oasis—I felt alive again.”

My pulse thundered. “You… it was you?”

Her smile was venom. She gripped my chin, forcing my face up. “Of course. Rigel does whatever I want. You were just a pawn. Athena was collateral damage.”

The world narrowed. My breath came ragged. I shoved her hand away, rage burning through my bones.

“You—shameless witch!” I drove her back, step by step. “You think the world spins around your body? You think I’ll just stand here after you crushed my pup’s life?”

She smirked. “You won’t do a thing. You’re weak.”

My hand cracked against her cheek. The sound split the air. She froze—then her eyes gleamed with something darker.

“Oh… this will be fun,” she whispered.

Before I could move, she darted back, whipping a silver blade from her pocket.

Smoke hissed as it seared her palm. She slashed her own thigh, then tumbled down the stairs, screaming.

Voices erupted below. Footsteps thundered. Alpha Rigel burst in, Margareth at his side—Oasis trailing behind, wide-eyed.

“What did you do to her, you vile bitch?!” Margareth shrieked, cradling Mata Hari as she feigned unconsciousness.

I stood frozen at the top of the stairs, my chest heaving. “She—”

“Shut up!” Alpha Rigel’s voice cut like steel. “I’ve had enough, Luna Andromeda.”

Margareth glared at me with pure loathing. “First you kill your own child, now you try to kill my grandson’s mother? You have no shame!”

“She’s lying! She threw herself—” My voice broke. No one cared.

Oasis clung to Margareth, sobbing, his eyes staring at me like I was a monster.

Alpha Rigel stormed up the stairs, his hand crushing my shoulder before I could step back. “You’ll never touch Mata Hari again.”

His shove sent me tumbling. My back slammed the steps, pain igniting like fire, my skull pounding as the world spun out of focus.

Through the blur, I saw him scooping Mata Hari into his arms, carrying her out—leaving me sprawled at the foot of the stairs like trash.

**

When I woke, antiseptic burned my nostrils. The harsh glow of pack hospital lights stabbed my eyes.

An IV pierced my arm, morphine flowing warm into my veins—laced with wolfbane, heavy and cruel.

I tried to lift my hand, but strength deserted me.

“What did you do to her, Luna Andromeda?”

AlphaRigel’s voice—cold, merciless—dragged my gaze to him. He didn’t even care enough to ask if I was okay.

“What I did?” My throat was raw. “You should be asking what she did to me—to our daughter!”

Alpha Rigel loomed closer, his jaw clenched tight. “You’re always like this. Blaming everyone else when it was you who failed Athena.”

The words shattered me like glass.

He still painted me as the mother who killed her child.

“I carried her. I birthed her. I—” My voice cracked. “And you dare make it look like I murdered her?”

“I lost her too!” Alpha Rigel roared. “But I’m not wasting my life whining and pointing fingers.”

“You didn’t lose her, Alpha. You were too busy fucking Mata Hari—building your perfect little family!” My throat burned as tears carved hot paths down my cheeks.

Alpha Rigel moved in with slow, predatory steps, until his breath was fire against my skin. His fingers gripped my jaw, forcing me to meet those storm-grey eyes I once thought were my sanctuary.

“Watch your mouth, Luna Andromeda!” he murmured, voice like a blade wrapped in silk. “You’ve got no proof. And you should be grateful Mata Hari survived. Tomorrow—she becomes my lady.”

“Your lady?” My chest heaved, fury pulsing in every word. “Take her, then. Take all your lies, all your betrayal. I’m done.”

“You’re going nowhere, Andie. Not while I’m still your Alpha.” He leaned closer, his thumb brushing the tears from my cheek—mocking tenderness in a grip that could break bone. “You’ll see what a real Luna looks like… and a true heir for South Hallow. That prophecy? I’ve erased it.”

“Just reject me, Alpha!” My voice ripped from my throat, raw and shaking.

His gaze darkened, possessive and venomous. Then came the whisper, low and lethal, the kind that binds chains around your soul:

“Never.” His lips hovered at my ear, each word dripping with obsession. “I still love you, Andie… but not the way I love Mata Hari.”

My heart slammed against my ribs, my wolf trapped in a burning cage.

He called this love. For Moon Goddess’s sake—this twisted, diseased, bleeding.

He barked for the doctor, ordering a heavier dose of morphine and wolfbane.

My body turned to lead as darkness dragged me under.

**

When I woke again, a voice—low, unfamiliar—slipped through the silence.

“Finally awake, Andromeda.”

A he-wolf sat in the shadows by my bed, his face cloaked in dim light.

“Who… are you?” My voice was a rasp.

He leaned forward, eyes glinting like steel. “A loyal man of Winchester. Alpha Altair sent me to get you out of Alpha Rigel’s grip.”

He unclipped the IV from my arm, smooth and precise.

From his jacket, a golden badge caught the faint light—the Winchester Claw.

“Alpha Altair says you’ve got five days to leave South Hallow. Tomorrow night, when the full moon peaks—I’ll come for you.”

Andromeda

“My pup?” Instinctively, my hand went to my still-flat stomach.

A cold spike of fear stabbed through my chest, stirring memories I’d buried deep—the pain of loss.

I couldn’t bear the thought of laying my pup to rest again.

The figure before me turned slowly, his shadow stretching long across the floor.

“He’s fine,” he said flatly, though something in his voice hinted at secrets I wasn’t ready to hear.

His eyes glinted in the dim light, unreadable.

“Alpha Altair sent me,” he continued, his tone low, almost reverent, “to make sure that pup survives—to protect Winchester… and you.”

My breath caught. “He knows?”

The man’s lips curved—not quite a smile.

“Yes,” he murmured, each syllable deliberate, heavy with unspoken meaning. “He always knows.”

I didn’t quite believe him, but I trusted Altair somehow—they anchored me just enough to keep from shattering.

Even in the wreckage, it seemed there was still something worth fighting for.

I pushed myself upright, my limbs heavy from the wolfsbane still dragging through my veins.

But the Moon Goddess had granted me resilience—for me, and for the life I carried.

On the bedside table sat a neatly wrapped box, still sealed. A note rested on top:

Your phone’s broken. Use this so I can reach you. All the data you need has been transferred.–AG

By the next morning, I was out of the hospital.

In the corridor, I overheard omegas whispering that Alpha Rigel was busy preparing the ritual to mourn Athena.

I doubted it was purely grief—more likely, a performance. A way to convince the pack, and himself, that he’d truly lost his heir.

Back at the pack house, I began packing my things, and Athena’s.

Among Athena’s things, I found a small scrap of paper, scrawled in her big, uneven handwriting:

On my fifth birthday, I want Mum and Dad to take me to the funfair.

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them.

Such a simple wish—yet not a single grown werewolf around her had been able to make it come true.

That was the last time I would allow myself to cry.

From this moment on, only vengeance would burn in my heart.

I sent one of my most trusted omegas to keep the note safe, along with the moonstone ring Alpha Rigel gave me on the night of our Mating Ceremony.

Both will be returned to him during the final ritual—the day we honour Athena’s death.

I packed away the rest of Alpha Rigel’s gifts in a box—the letters, the perfumes, the trinkets that once whispered promises. My intention was clear: burn every last one.

In the back garden, flames danced hungrily in the metal drum, devouring gemstones, dresses, handbags, shoes—every fragment of a love that had rotted long ago.

The blood-sealed parchment from our Luna bond ceremony went in last, curling to ash under my gaze.

The heat was nothing compared to the fire simmering inside me.

Footsteps crunched the gravel behind me. “What are you doing?” Alpha Rigel’s voice was sharp, coiled like a whip.

I didn’t turn. “These are old. Taking up space.”

He stepped to my side, eyes on the blaze as if trying to read it. “You could have told me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” I said, voice cool. “You’ve got Alpha duties to attend to.”

Like keeping Mata Hari warm at night.

His sigh was low, practiced—designed to sound tender. “Luna Andromeda… about yesterday, I lost my temper. I’m sorry.”

A hand settled on my shoulder, light as a spider’s web, and just as empty. “Let me make it up to you,” he murmured. “I want to give you the Carlson villa—”

“Give it to Mata Hari.” My tone sliced through his words, cold and clean. “She’ll like it more.”

He paused, brows knitting, as if the rejection was a puzzle.

The villa—perched high in the mountains—was the kind of gift most she-wolves would kill for.

Not me. I hated the thin, biting air, the suffocating pine. I’d always craved the sea—a quiet cottage where the tide sang me to sleep.

He studied me for a long beat, eyes searching for cracks. “And… I want you to swap rooms with Mata Hari. She needs the space—”

“Fine,” I cut in, flat as stone.

No fight. No spark. Just silence. My heart had sunk to the bottom of a black lake—cold, heavy, immovable.

“There’s something else,” he ventured, careful now. “I’m naming Oasis as my successor. You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” I said smoothly. “You’re the Alpha. I can’t give you an heir, after all.”

His head snapped toward me, fury flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?” His voice sharpened, the mask cracking. “You’re… different.”

I gave him a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “I’m just making peace with reality.”

His jaw worked as silence stretched between us. Then he stepped closer, voice dropping into that poisoned velvet tone he wore like a crown.

“I promise, Andie, you’ll always be first in my heart. Even if Mata Hari stands beside me.” His thumb brushed my cheek as if sealing a vow. “She may carry Carlson Hallow’s heir—but you… you’re the one I’ll always come back to.”

A sweet venom of a promise. First, but never only.

“I’ve always loved you, Andie. You know that.”

I didn’t flinch when his hand cupped my face. Love? It was obsession wrapped in the velvet of false tenderness.

When he leaned in, I turned away, voice cutting like ice. “I want to visit Athena’s grave.”

He stilled, searching my profile for something—pain, surrender, anything he could use. Finally, he nodded.

“Alright,” he said softly. But his tone held an edge, like a leash drawn tighter.

When he left, I pulled the new phone from my pocket and texted Altair, confirming the form I’d sent via email.

His reply came fast: Got it. Everything’s in order.

I made one call, and he picked up.

“Hello…”

“Are you ready?” Altair’s voice was deep, almost hypnotic.

“Yeah. Three hours. I need to finalise an investment withdrawal and… dismantle Nebula’s firewall.”

Minutes later, an email arrived—my one-way e-ticket. Destination: Athens, Greece.

I stared at the screen, the confirmation like a key in my hand… or a blade ready to sever my last tie to this place.

Outside, the fire in the drum had died, leaving only ash and the warped metal shell of one of Athena’s toys.

I turned away without looking back.

I rolled my suitcase out of the pack house, the air around me feeling lighter with every step.

Through the taxi window, the pack house blurred into the distance.

At the airport, my inbox chimed with confirmation of the investment withdrawal.

With a single tap, my virus began quietly tearing through Nebula’s firewall.

The sound of the telly blurred out the bitterness clawing at my memories.

The newsreader’s voice broke through, reporting a massive pile-up at the Oxford Circus junction in central London.

Cars were all crushed together, twisted up and swallowed by the flames. A bus was sprawled across the road, having flattened a taxi almost flush with the tarmac.

A list of the dead rolled out almost instantly.

The name Andromeda Carlson came last on the list of victims—dead at the scene, her face unrecognisable.

Altair had pulled it off flawlessly, and I couldn’t help the smile that curved my lips.

I, Andromeda Nielsen, sever my bond with the South Hallow Pack. I am no longer their Luna.