Avenging Luna

Prologue:

Leila had always lived in the shadows. From a young age, her father, the Alpha of the Moonshine Pack, forced her into hiding, stripping her of any sense of identity. She was forbidden from playing with the other pups and never once allowed to call her parents "mother" or "father." Instead, they were Luna and Alpha—nothing more, nothing less. To the world, she was just a lone pup the Alpha had rescued after her real parents were killed in a rogue attack. That was the lie she was made to live.

Close members of the pack, like the Beta and his mate, knew the truth—that she was the firstborn of the Alpha. But they played along with the deception, refusing to acknowledge her lineage. Their silence burned deeper than the lie itself.

The day her younger brother was born was the day her world shattered completely. He was celebrated as the true firstborn, the future Alpha. The love and attention that should have been hers were showered upon him. Leila watched as her mother cradled him with tenderness, a tenderness she had never known. Her mother, who should have been her protector, never missed an opportunity to remind Leila of what she was—a mistake. Her father, the Alpha, looked at her with nothing but contempt, calling her an embarrassment and a disappointment.

As she grew older, Leila learned the twisted truth: firstborn Alphas were always male, destined to inherit the title and rule the pack. A female as the firstborn was unheard of, shameful even. Her father had hidden her identity out of fear and scorn, leaving her to be treated like an outcast by the pack. The abuse from the other pack members was constant and relentless, and her father did nothing to stop it. They worked her to the bone, forcing her to clean, cook, and bear the brunt of their cruelty. She tried to gain her father's approval by training in secret, pushing herself to become strong, but when he found out, he forbade her from fighting and ordered her back to the chores.

Then, at eighteen, everything changed. The Moonshine Pack found itself in debt to the ruthless Blood Moon Pack after a deal went sour. When Alpha Vanvil, the leader of Blood Moon, came to collect what was owed, he demanded Leila as part of the payment. Desperate, she begged her father not to send her away, promising she could be useful, but he dismissed her like she was nothing. In that moment, any hope she had left in her heart shattered. That was the moment Leila's heart hardened. As she was handed over to Alpha Vanvil, she swore vengeance against the Moonshine Pack.She left with nothing but the bitterness in her soul and the hatred burning in her heart.

Yet, she had no idea that the true nightmare was just beginning. she was trading one hell for another. Under Alpha Vanvil's rule, she suffered tenfold. She was nothing more than a slave, forced to clean the entire packhouse and cook for the pack members without ever tasting the food she made. Most days, she survived on scraps or nothing at all. She bathed once a week, wore the same tattered clothes, and lived in the filthy basement among rats.

The pack treated her like a toy, something to be used and abused for their own amusement .The children of the pack were no better, little sadists who delighted in watching her heal from the wounds they inflicted. To them, she was nothing more than a plaything, a pet to be tormented. The teenagers were worse, spitting on her, mocking her, and running to Alpha Vanvil with every fabricated tale of rebellion.

And Vanvil... he was the worst of them all. He forced her into the dungeons, making her torture prisoners as he loomed over her, reminding her that it was either their lives or hers. The first time, she wept as she spilled blood. The second time, her tears dried. By the third, she had learned to shut off her humanity entirely, becoming a hollow shell of the girl she once was. She did whatever was asked of her and cried herself to sleep in the cold, dark basement. Her bed was nothing more than a pile of old cardboard, her mind a battlefield of plans for revenge.

Leila's POV:

I killed him! I fucking killed him! Damn, it felt great. I cherished the moment I saw those wicked eyes of his loosing their life. He was shocked. Died surprised that little me could do it. I bet he never saw it coming. He never ever imagine I would be the one to end him.

How the mighty has fallen. As much as I felt relief after killing him I think I left him off easily. I should have made him suffer for everything he has put me through. Any way its now over, I hope he rot in hell for all eternity.

Little did I know I've just open a pandora's box which should have never been opened. But first things first we should run before they see us. We should hide. They won't immediately suspect that I've killed their Alpha, which should buy me enough time to escape. As they scramble to find the culprit and piece together what happened, I should be long gone—far from these barbarians, far from their horrid clutches.

I moved carefully out of the Alpha's chamber, grateful to find the corridor empty. Taking a path known only to me, I slipped through the shadows with practiced ease. Each step was a calculated risk, but I had planned for this moment meticulously. My heart pounded, not just from the adrenaline but from the anticipation of freedom. To achieve that freedom, however, I had to adhere to my plan with unwavering precision.

Mentally ticking off my list: Conceal my scent—check. Sneak into the Alpha's room unnoticed—check. Eliminate the bastard—check. Escape—check.

With each successful step, my confidence grew, but I knew I couldn't relax yet. The true test lay in waiting for the aftermath of the Alpha's death. The pack would soon react, their confusion and grief providing the perfect cover for my escape. As I anticipated, the first signs of commotion erupted as pack members began to notice the anomaly, rushing in a frenzy toward the pack house. Their collective unease and the palpable sense of loss would mask my departure, giving me the opportunity I needed to slip away unnoticed.

 From my vantage point, I watched as the once-organized pack devolved into a scene of chaotic despair. Members scattered in every direction, their panic almost comical in its intensity. I couldn't help but feel a dark satisfaction. They deserved every ounce of this turmoil. Their Alpha's death was a bitter dose of justice, and now it was my time to vanish into the night.

As I observed the frantic pack members, moving about like headless chickens, a grim promise formed in my mind. I vowed to return one day, to come back and finish what I had started. Every single one of them would pay for their arrogance, for their cruelty. None would be spared.

I shifted into my wolf, Layla, feeling the familiar surge of power and instinct take over. Without hesitation, we bolted into the night, our paws pounding against the earth as we sprinted away from the pack. I urged Layla to run faster, the urgency of our escape gnawing at me—soon, they would notice our absence, and the hunt would begin.

We ran without looking back, our only focus on putting as much distance between us and them as possible. Just as we crossed the borders, I heard it—the howls of the pack, signaling the start of the chase. They knew. They were hunting me.

"Goddess, forbid they find me," I whispered to myself, though I knew Layla could hear my thoughts. She growled in response, determined and fierce. 'They will never capture us again,' her resolve echoed in my mind. 'Never again,' even if it means we die in the attempt. I would rather embrace death than face the horror of being captured once more.

We zigzagged through the dense forest, weaving between trees to throw off our pursuers. Layla moved with such grace and precision, her instincts guiding us effortlessly through the thick underbrush. We ran until the sounds of the pack faded into the distance, until the only noise was the rustling of leaves and our own labored breaths. Finally, our strength waned, and we collapsed onto the forest floor, the cool earth welcoming our exhausted bodies. As darkness began to claim my consciousness, a single thought lingered in my mind: 'So this is what freedom tastes like.

Before I opened my eyes, I sensed something was off. The floor beneath me was too soft, far too comfortable for the forest floor I had last felt. Had I somehow ended up in heaven? As I blinked awake, I found myself in a room with a scent that drove Layla, my wolf, into a frenzy. The fragrance was alien, confusing, and unsettling. One thing was clear—I had not expected to wake up in a soft, cozy bed. The last thing I remembered was the cold, unforgiving forest floor.

Wait a minute—where were my clothes? Panic surged through me as I realized I was clad only in my panties and sports bra. Someone is going to pay for this, I thought fiercely.

Just then, the door creaked open, and instinct took over. I sprang from the bed and launched myself at the intruder, not caring in the slightest about my state of undress. My adrenaline-fueled fury was all that mattered.

"Woah... chill out, mate!" the intruder exclaimed, raising their hands in a gesture of surrender. "No need to be so aggressive."

"I didn't know you were that desperate," he quipped, a smirk playing on his lips. "At least not at the doorway." The teasing lilt in his voice was unmistakable. It was only then that Layla, my wolf, alerted me to the truth—I had just attacked my mate. I quickly released my grip from his neck, which I had been seconds away from crushing.

'Shit,' I thought, suddenly realizing the full extent of my situation. I was practically naked. Scrambling to my feet, I darted to the bed, snatching the bedsheet and wrapping it around myself in a poor attempt to preserve my dignity.

"Oh, so now you're shy?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "After nearly molesting me at the door? Hush, don't cover yourself. I was just starting to enjoy the view."

The tall, attractive man, whom I now realized was indeed my mate, flashed me a grin that was equal parts charming and infuriating. My cheeks flared with heat, and I desperately needed a distraction.

"If I may ask, where am I and what's your name?" I stammered, hoping to steer the conversation away from my recent embarrassment.

"Mmmh," he mused, as if savoring the sound of my voice. "Well, mate has a pretty voice," he murmured to himself, almost as if forgetting I was standing right there. 'Great,' I thought, 'I'm mated to a lunatic.'

His gaze met mine, and for a moment, I felt an overwhelming pull, a magnetic force drawing me into uncharted waters I wasn't sure I was ready to navigate. His eyes were filled with an intensity that made my heart race.

"Okay, so apparently you're in my room," he said, gesturing to our surroundings with a casual sweep of his hand. "And as for my name, I'm Drake, but my wolf's name is Gile. Though, to be honest, we'd both prefer if you called us something more...endearing, like honey, babe, or whatever that pretty mind of yours can conjure up."

One thing was clear from this ordeal: I was mated to a sweet-talking charmer. As much as his wit and good looks might have swayed another, I knew better. Drake was a distraction, and distractions were the last thing I could afford right now—not until I had exacted my vengeance, not until everyone who had wronged me was dead by my hand. I couldn't allow myself to fall for him. Happiness, love, and all those lovey-dovey feelings weren't in my future. They simply weren't meant for me.