When My Alpha Stripped Me of My Luna Rights

The afternoon sun streamed through the kitchen windows as I helped Dorothy prepare for tonight's Harvest Banquet. Her hands moved with practiced precision, chopping herbs with a rhythm that had become as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.

"Clara, dear, could you check the moonflower infusion?" Dorothy asked, her voice carrying a strange tension I couldn't quite place.

I nodded, moving to the small glass vials lined up on the counter. The kitchen smelled of sage and lavender—Dorothy's signature scents that had become synonymous with healing throughout our pack.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, noticing how she'd stopped mid-chop, her eyes fixed on something beyond the window.

Dorothy's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Just nerves, I suppose. The Harvest Banquet is always important."

She reached for a leather-bound journal hidden beneath a stack of towels, quickly tucking it into her apron pocket when the kitchen door swung open.

Andrew strode in, his Alpha aura filling the space with a suffocating pressure. Behind him trailed Eden, her Beta intern uniform perfectly pressed, a tray of rare herbs balanced in her hands.

"Mother, you're still working?" Andrew's voice held an edge of irritation. "You should be preparing for the ceremony."

"I'm almost done," Dorothy replied, her shoulders stiffening slightly.

Andrew's gaze shifted to me, his eyes narrowing. "Clara, you're in the way. Go check on the decorations or something."

I bit back a retort, feeling my wolf stir restlessly inside me. *He never speaks to you like that anymore,* she whispered. *Something's wrong.*

"Actually," I said, straightening my spine, "I'm helping Dorothy with the ceremonial herbs."

"It's fine, dear," Dorothy intervened, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "You should go rest before tonight."

But Andrew was already at Eden's side, examining her tray with exaggerated interest. "These moonshade blossoms are exquisite! Where did you find them?"

"Northern ridge," Eden replied, her voice honey-sweet. "I remembered you mentioning they'd enhance your... special touch."

The way she emphasized those words made my stomach twist. Andrew beamed at her, completely ignoring both Dorothy and me.

"Perfect for tonight's dish," he said, lifting one of the delicate purple petals. "My Golden Tongue creation will be legendary."

Dorothy's expression darkened momentarily. As Andrew led Eden away, discussing measurements and timing, Dorothy leaned close to me.

"Beware the wolf who smiles with too many teeth," she whispered, her eyes darting toward Eden's retreating form.

Before I could ask what she meant, Andrew returned, practically pulling his mother from the kitchen. "Come on, Mother. You need to change into your formal attire."

---

The banquet hall glittered with candlelight, the long tables adorned with autumn foliage and golden accents. Pack members mingled with visiting dignitaries, their excited chatter filling the space with anticipation.

I stood to the side, watching Andrew take center stage. He'd changed into his ceremonial Alpha robes, the silver embroidery catching the light as he gestured grandly toward the large silver pot on the main table.

"Tonight," he announced, his voice carrying across the hall, "we celebrate not just the harvest, but a new chapter for our pack!"

Murmurs of approval rippled through the crowd as he continued, "I have prepared a divine creation—a broth blessed by the Moon Goddess herself!"

My wolf stirred uneasily. *Something's wrong,* she insisted. *Our bond feels... strained.*

I pushed her concern aside, focusing on Andrew as he ladled the steaming liquid into an ornate bowl.

"This first serving," he declared, "goes to the woman who taught me everything I know—my mother, the former Luna!"

Applause erupted as Dorothy stepped forward, her smile gracious but tight. Andrew presented her with the bowl, his eyes gleaming with pride.

"To the Silver Moon Pack," he toasted, "and to my mother!"

Dorothy raised the bowl to her lips, her eyes meeting mine briefly. Something flickered there—warning? Fear?

She took a sip, then another. For a moment, everything was still.

Then her smile froze. The bowl slipped from her fingers, shattering against the stone floor. Dorothy's hands flew to her throat, her eyes wide with panic as foam gathered at her lips.

"Andrew!" I screamed, rushing forward. "Your mother—"

But he wasn't looking at her. A commotion near the servants' quarters had caught his attention.

"Clara's mother collapsed!" someone shouted.

Andrew's face paled. "What? My Luna's mother?"

He turned away from Dorothy's crumpled form, moving toward the disturbance. Eden suddenly clutched her chest, gasping dramatically.

"Eden!" Andrew caught her as she swayed, pulling her against him. "Someone help her!"

I knelt beside Dorothy, frantically checking her pulse. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, her skin ashen.

*Andrew!* I mind-linked him desperately. *It's your mother! She's dying!*

His response was a violent block, so forceful it sent a shock of pain through my temples.

"Stop being hysterical, Clara!" he snapped aloud, not even looking at us. "Deal with your own family!"

Dorothy's eyes locked with mine, her lips moving soundlessly. I leaned closer, catching her final breath as it rattled past her lips.

"Betrayal," she whispered, her gaze drifting past me to where Andrew comforted Eden.

And then she was gone.