The Luna’s Return
The packhouse loomed in the distance, its sturdy walls illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. Draven led the group in silence, his body taut with tension. Isla stayed close behind him, her mind racing. The confrontation with Tobias had only added to the weight of her return, and now, with the forest alive with unseen threats, her resolve felt fragile.
Kael trudged a few paces behind her, his presence an uncomfortable reminder of everything that had gone wrong. Alaric brought up the rear, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings.
When they reached the packhouse, the silence was shattered by the sound of raised voices coming from within. Draven’s face darkened as he pushed the doors open, his commanding presence silencing the commotion instantly.
Inside, the gathered pack members turned to face him, their expressions a mix of shock and relief as their eyes landed on Isla. But the tension in the room didn’t ease. At the center of the crowd stood Susan, her arms crossed, her gaze icy.
“Alpha,” she said, her tone sharp. “You have some explaining to do.”
Draven’s wolf growled low in his chest, but he remained composed. “What is this about, Susan?”
Susan’s gaze flicked to Isla, then back to Draven. “You’ve been gone for days, and in your absence, the pack has been left in the hands of someone who isn’t who they claim to be.”
The room buzzed with whispers, and Isla’s stomach churned. She stepped forward, her voice steady despite the chaos swirling around her. “Susan, what are you talking about?”
Susan’s eyes softened as she looked at Isla. “I’ve served this pack long enough to know when something’s wrong. The woman who’s been standing in your place, claiming to be you—it isn’t you.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd as all eyes turned to Isla. Draven’s face darkened, his jaw tightening. “Explain,” he demanded, his voice cold.
Before Susan could respond, the doors to the ceremonial wing opened, and Seraphine stepped into the room. Her painted crescent mark gleamed under the torchlight, her posture regal as she met Isla’s gaze.
“I see you’ve returned,” Seraphine said, her voice calm but venomous. “But you’re too late, sister. The pack has already accepted me as their Luna.”
The room erupted into chaos, the pack’s voices blending into a cacophony of disbelief and anger. Draven stepped forward, his body vibrating with barely contained fury. “Enough!” he roared, silencing the room.
His gaze locked onto Seraphine, his voice a deadly whisper. “You have five seconds to explain yourself.”
Seraphine’s lips curled into a sly smile. “It’s simple,” she said. “I am Isla. And I have the mark to prove it.”
Draven’s gaze shifted to Isla, his wolf growling low and dangerous. “Then who,” he asked, his voice trembling with fury, “is lying?”
