Rejected Luna's Revenge

LUNA'S POV

"You need to end this now, Luna. Victor will never truly see you. Breaking the mate bond is your only escape," my wolf whispers in my mind, her voice a mixture of sorrow and determination.

Before me stands Victor Wolfe, Alpha of the Dark Pack, cradling Vanessa's bleeding form in his arms. His eyes, once filled with false promises, now burn with hatred as he glares at me.

"Your blood," he snarls, fingers digging into Vanessa's shoulder. "Your heart. That's what it will take to heal her."

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "You want my heart? You never valued it when I offered it freely."

His jaw clenches. "Fix what you've done, Luna."

"I'll fix something alright." I straighten my spine, drawing power from deep within. "I, Luna Vasquez, reject you, Victor Wolfe, as my mate. Now and forever."

Disbelief flickers across his face before hardening into contempt. "You cannot reject me. Only I have that power."

"Is that what you believe?" I tilt my head, feeling something ancient stir within my blood.

The mate bond—that cursed chain that has bound me for months—begins to crack. With each fracture, I feel lighter, stronger, until finally, it shatters completely. For the first time in half a year, my lungs fill completely. Freedom tastes like the sweetest wine.

Victor staggers backward, clutching his chest. "What... what have you done? How did you break our bond without my consent?"

I turn my gaze skyward. "Moon Goddess, I, Luna Vasquez, answer your call. I embrace my destiny as the Blood Priestess."

Power surges through me. I glance at Henry, watching as silver flames dance around my white wolf. Crimson light bathes everything in blood-red brilliance.

When I face Victor again, my voice carries the weight of ancient power. "Kneel or perish. The choice is yours."

Six months earlier.

The transport van reeks of fear and unwashed bodies. My wrists are raw from the silver-lined restraints, and my face throbs where the last guard struck me. Through swollen eyelids, I can barely make out the shapes of other captives—rogues, they called us—huddled in misery.

Despite everything, hope flutters in my chest. We're approaching the Dark Pack territory—where he waits. The man whose voice has haunted my dreams since our first phone call. My mate.

The van lurches to a stop. Metal doors screech open, flooding the space with harsh daylight that sends pain lancing through my skull.

"Move, rogues!" A guard's voice cracks like a whip.

Rough hands seize my arms, dragging me from the van. My legs, numb from hours of confinement, buckle beneath me. I hit the pavement with enough force to split my lip, blood pooling on my tongue.

"Stand up, filth!" A boot connects with my ribs, forcing what little air I have from my lungs.

Through the haze of pain, I catch it—that scent. Rich and compelling, like cedar after rainfall. The mate bond sings in my veins, confirming what I already know. He's here.

I struggle to lift my head, desperate for a glimpse of him. Through the curtain of my matted hair, I see polished shoes approaching. Black suit pants. Strong hands clasped behind a straight back.

"Victor," I try to call, but my parched throat produces only a rasp.

The guard's boot finds my spine this time. "Silence, rogue!"

I curl into myself, tasting dirt and blood, fighting to stay conscious. If I could just make eye contact, just let him see me...

"Is this the entire capture?" His voice—the same one from our phone conversations—sends shivers down my spine despite my circumstances.

"Yes, Alpha," a guard responds. "Sixteen rogues total, captured near the eastern border."

"Take them below for questioning. I want to know who sent them."

No! I need to tell him who I am!

I summon my remaining strength, lifting my head. "Victor, please—"

The guard's fist silences me, sending stars exploding across my vision.

"This one's trouble, Alpha. Keeps trying to address you directly."

Through blurred vision, I see Victor's face—handsome and cold, with no recognition in his eyes as he glances at me.

"Then make sure she's questioned thoroughly." He turns away, dismissing me as easily as swatting a fly. "I want to know what she's hiding."

The guard yanks me upright. "You heard the Alpha. Special treatment for you."

As he drags me toward a stone staircase leading downward, desperation claws at my throat. I am Luna Vasquez, sister to Alpha Felix Vasquez of the New Arctic Pack. I am Victor's betrothed, his destined mate, sent here with my brother's blessing after weeks of diplomatic negotiations.

But the convoy was ambushed three days into our journey. In the chaos, I was separated from my guards and captured by rogues. When Dark Pack patrols found us, they assumed I was one of them—a rogue, the lowest of our kind.

"Wait." Victor's command freezes the guard's movements.

Hope blooms in my chest. Has he sensed it? The mate bond?

Victor approaches, his gaze clinical as it sweeps over me. "This one seems different."

The guard tightens his grip on my arm. "Sir?"

"She's too defiant." Victor's eyes narrow. "Rogues like her are dangerous—they inspire others. Make her interrogation... memorable. I want every rogue who passes through our territory to hear what happened to her."

My heart shatters as the guard grins. "With pleasure, Alpha."

The staircase seems endless, each step jarring my injuries. The scent changes as we descend—damp stone, old blood, and despair. The dungeon of the Dark Pack is infamous among werewolves, a place few leave intact.

The guard stops at a cell, unlocks it with a key from his belt, and shoves me inside. I collapse onto cold stone, my head striking the floor with a crack that sends darkness creeping into my vision.

Blood trickles down my temple. The wolfsbane they forced down my throat earlier prevents healing, leaves me vulnerable as any human. I try to call my wolf, but she's silent, suppressed by the poison.

Time loses meaning in the darkness. I drift between consciousness and oblivion, until icy water shocks me awake, sending needles of pain through every nerve.

"Rise and shine, princess." A guard I haven't seen before stands over me, empty bucket in hand. "Time for your special session."

I try to push myself up, but my arms tremble and give way.

The guard sighs dramatically. "Not cooperating? Shame." His boot slams into my stomach, driving the air from my lungs. I gasp, curling around the pain.

"Forget it," another voice says from the doorway. "The Alpha's on his way down to observe. Just drag her to the chamber."

Terror grips me. Victor is coming to watch my interrogation? Will he recognize me then, or will he stand by as they break me piece by piece?

The guard grabs my hair, using it to lift my head. "Hear that, rogue? The Alpha himself wants to see what makes you tick. Should I clean you up a bit first?"

His companion laughs. "Why bother? She'll be a mess again soon enough."

As they haul me to my feet, a single thought sustains me: Victor will see me. Really see me. And when he does, this nightmare will end.

It has to.