Three Years Later
The Silver Moon Pack was gathering for the full moon run when the forest went silent.
Every bird stopped singing. Every insect stilled. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Then came the footsteps—light, measured, confident. Two sets. One adult, one child.
Beta Garrett was the first to see us emerge from the treeline. His face went white.
"Impossible," he breathed.
I smiled, feeling his terror spike through my gift—though now it didn't overwhelm me. It simply flowed through me like water, noted and released. "Hello, Garrett. Miss me?"
Three years had transformed me. Gone was the fragile Luna who collapsed at strong emotions. Selene's training had taught me to weaponize what I once saw as weakness. My silver hair now held threads of gold—mark of a Prime Luna, one who'd mastered her gift. I wore white leather that moved like silk, ancient runes of power etched into the material.
But it was the child holding my hand who made wolves drop to their knees.
Luna, my daughter, three years old and already commanding. Her silver-gold hair caught moonlight like a crown. Those violet-gold eyes saw everything, felt everything, and when she smiled...
"Mama," she said sweetly, "the scared wolf smells funny."
"That's guilt, baby. Remember what we practiced about guilty wolves?"
She nodded solemnly, then looked directly at Garrett. The Beta, who'd never knelt to anyone but his Alpha, crashed to his knees as she pushed a single emotion at him—shame. His own shame, reflected and amplified until tears streamed down his face.
"Luna! Aria!" Morgana's voice cracked as she pushed through the gathering crowd. The old healer looked exactly the same, though her emotions were a storm—joy, regret, desperate hope. "You're alive. You're both alive."
"No thanks to the pack." I kept my voice level, though inside, old wounds ached. "Hello, Morgana."
"ARIA?"
That voice. Even after three years, it hit me like a physical blow. Marcus stood at the edge of the crowd, and time had not been kind. Dark circles, hollow cheeks, the look of a wolf who hadn't slept well in years. Our eyes met, and I felt him try to reach for a bond that no longer existed.
"Alpha Thornfield." I inclined my head mockingly. "I see you remember me. Though last we met, I was just the 'defective Luna' you rejected while in labor."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. New wolves who'd joined after I left. Young wolves who'd only heard whispers. They stared between us—their powerful Alpha and the Luna he'd thrown away.
"You were pregnant?" a young she-wolf whispered. "He rejected you while—"
"While I was giving birth," I confirmed. "Bleeding on the floor of the great hall, begging for my child's life. Yes."
Luna tugged my hand. "Is that the bad wolf who hurt you, Mama?"
Every eye turned to my daughter. This tiny thing who radiated power like a miniature sun.
"Yes, baby. That's your father."
Marcus staggered like I'd punched him. His emotions crashed against my shields—regret, longing, desperate hunger. Three years of searching. Three years of his wolf howling for what he'd lost. And now, seeing Luna...
"My daughter," he breathed, taking a step forward.
Luna's power flared, and Marcus froze mid-step. She didn't force him to kneel—she did something worse. She showed him exactly how his rejection felt. Every ounce of pain, betrayal, and abandonment I'd experienced hit him at once.
The Alpha of Silver Moon Pack collapsed screaming.
"Luna, enough." I touched her shoulder gently. "We don't torture wolves. We teach them."
She pulled back her power, leaving Marcus gasping on the ground. "Sorry, Mama. He just made me mad."
"I know, sweetheart." I addressed the pack, voice carrying. "I've returned for one reason. To collect what's mine."
"You can't be here," Garrett managed, still fighting Luna's residual shame. "You were banished. Rejected. You have no claim—"
"I have every claim." I smiled, cold as winter. "You see, there are laws older than pack politics. A Luna rejected without true cause? She can challenge for justice. And a child rejected before birth? She carries the right of blood vengeance."
Silence. Even the wind stayed still.
"You have no proof of conspiracy," Garrett tried. "No evidence—"
"Jonas kept a journal," I said conversationally. "Hidden in a place only an empath could find—beneath emotions so dark even he couldn't face them. Would you like me to share what he wrote? About your orders? About the four wolves you sent to their deaths to frame me?"
His terror spiked so hard several wolves stepped away from him.
"Or perhaps," I continued, "we should discuss the rogues you've been meeting. The ones you promised territory to once Marcus took a new Luna. Oh, Garrett. You thought killing witnesses would hide your secrets. But the dead speak loudly to those who can feel their final moments."
"Lies!" But his voice cracked. Around him, pack members were backing away, puzzle pieces clicking into place.
Marcus forced himself upright, staring at his Beta with dawning horror. "Garrett... tell me she's lying."
But Garrett's emotions had already convicted him. The guilt, the fear, the rage at being exposed—it all bled through, too strong for shields.
"You destroyed my mate bond," Marcus's voice dropped to deadly quiet, "killed our own wolves, made me reject—" He couldn't finish, couldn't voice the magnitude of what he'd done.
"For the good of the pack!" Garrett snarled. "She was weak! Defective! She would have—"
Luna laughed.
The sound was pure sunshine, a child's genuine amusement. But her power rode with it, and suddenly the entire pack was feeling what she felt—how utterly ridiculous it was to call us weak. The sheer cosmic joke of rejecting the most powerful Luna born in centuries.
Wolves began laughing helplessly, tears streaming, unable to stop as the absurdity hit them. They'd thrown away a gift. Believed lies. Nearly killed their own future for fear of something different.
Only Marcus didn't laugh. He stared at Luna—at our daughter—with naked hunger. "She's perfect."
"Yes," I agreed. "She is. And you'll never know her."
"Aria, please—"
"Save your begging." I turned to address the pack. "I'll return tomorrow night for the formal challenge. Justice for the wrongly rejected. Unless, of course, the pack would prefer to avoid bloodshed?"
The threat hung clear. A Prime Luna with my power against wolves who'd already shown they could be manipulated by simple lies? It wouldn't be a fight. It would be a massacre.
"What do you want?" Marcus asked, defeated.
I smiled, showing teeth. "Everything you took from me. And then some."
With that, I turned to leave, Luna's hand in mine. But my daughter, my beautiful, terrible daughter, looked back at the father she'd never known.
"Bye-bye, bad wolf," she said sweetly. "Maybe next time don't hurt Mama."
Then she pushed one final emotion at him—the pure, unconditional love a child should feel for their father. What he could have had. What he'd thrown away.
Marcus Thornfield, Alpha of Silver Moon Pack, fell to his knees and sobbed.
We disappeared into the forest, but I knew we'd be back. The game was just beginning.
And this time?
I held all the cards.