The Betrayed Luna Returns for Vengeance

The door swung open without a sound.

The lamp by the bed was still on. It lit everything.

Seraphina was on top of him. Her bare back arched, her dark hair stuck to her sweaty skin, and her hips were still rolling. Alaric's hands gripped her waist. His fingers pressed into her the way they used to press into me.

The silver mating gown hung over the chair in the corner.

For a second, nobody saw me. Then Seraphina tipped her head back to moan, and her eyes landed on the doorway.

The moan turned into a gasp.

"Alaric," I said.

My voice came out flat, like it belonged to someone else.

He turned his head. The color drained out of his face so fast it was almost funny.

"Mara?"

"I wasn't dead." I held on to the door frame because my legs wanted to fold. "Rogues took me. Three months in a basement. Silver chains. They told me who paid them."

He went completely still.

Then he moved all at once. He shoved Seraphina off him so hard she tumbled sideways onto the mattress. He snatched his black coat off the floor and threw it over her body.

He covered *her*.

I waited for him to look at me. He looked at the coat instead, tugging it over her shoulders.

"Mara." He swung his legs off the bed and yanked on his pants. "Mara, how... we searched every..."

"You held a funeral," I said. "I heard."

"Alpha." Seraphina's voice cracked into a sob. She crawled across the bed and pressed herself against his back, clutching the coat closed. "Alpha, she's saying it was me. I know that look. She's going to say I did it."

"I haven't said your name yet," I said.

She flinched.

"You don't have to!" Tears spilled down her cheeks. "You always hated that he cared about me. I would never hurt you, Mara. You were like a sister to me. You *know* that."

"I sat with you the night your mother died," I said. "But you sold me to Kord for a place in my bed."

"That's a lie!" She buried her face against Alaric's shoulder. "Alaric, please. I've been here every day. I helped search. I *grieved* for her."

Alaric's jaw locked. He stepped away from her, toward me, and stopped halfway across the room. His nostrils flared.

"You smell like silver," he said quietly.

I peeled back the shredded sleeve of my shirt. The black burn circled my wrist like a collar. My thumb still sat crooked in its joint. Blood had dried in brown lines all the way to my elbow.

Then I turned around and pulled my shirt up.

"Look," I whispered. My eyes burned, and I hated it. I hated that they picked now. "Every night, salt water. Every morning, the whip. I called for you through the bond until Ember stopped answering."

I faced him again. The tears were running freely now.

"I crawled through a sewer to get home to you."

His gaze traveled over the burn, the welts, and the split skin at my ankle. Something cracked open in his face. For one heartbeat, he was the man who pressed his forehead to mine three years ago.

He reached for me.

"Alaric." Seraphina's voice was small and shaking. "Rogues lie. You know they lie. Anyone could have told her my name."

His hand dropped.

I stared at that hand, hanging empty at his side.

"Throw her in a cell," I said. "Tonight. Let the pack see."

"No."

The word landed soft.

"No?" I laughed. It came out jagged, and Seraphina actually shrank back from the sound.

"I'm saying not like this." He dragged a hand down his face. "You've been gone three months, Mara. You're half out of your head on silver. You show up in the middle of the night and accuse a member of my pack..."

"Of *our* pack."

"...and you expect me to sentence her before I know a single fact."

"You know me."

"I knew you." He swallowed hard. "I'll find out what happened. All of it. Then I'll decide what to do with Seraphina."

"Decide," I repeated.

Behind him, Seraphina lowered her wet lashes. The corner of her mouth twitched. It lasted half a second, but I caught it.

Alaric raised his voice. "Greta!"

The old housekeeper appeared in the hallway so fast she must have been listening. Her hand went to her mouth when she saw me.

"Luna..."

"Take her to the east guest room," Alaric said. "Get her clean. Get the pack healer."

"The guest room?" I said.

He didn't answer. He wouldn't meet my eyes.

Greta touched my elbow gently, like I might shatter. I let her lead me out. If I stayed one more second, I would have torn Seraphina's throat out with my bare teeth, silver or not.

---

The hallway was crowded now. People had come running at the noise. They were warriors and their mates, half-dressed, with wine still on their breath from the ceremony.

They parted for me. Nobody bowed.

"Goddess, look at her back," someone murmured.

"Is that really the Luna?"

"Was the Luna."

A woman near the stairs leaned toward her friend. She didn't bother to whisper very quietly.

"She looks like something that got dumped at the border. Like a feral dog somebody stopped feeding."

Her friend snickered. "Smells like one too."

Greta's grip tightened on my arm. "Don't listen, child."

"I'm not," I said.

I was memorizing their faces.

Behind us, Alaric's Alpha voice rolled down the corridor. It hit the hallway like a wall.

"Nobody goes near her. Not one of you. Not until I say."

The whispers died.

For one foolish second, my heart lifted. He was protecting me.

Then two guards stepped out of the crowd and followed us. Their boots thudded heavily on the wooden floor behind me.

---

Greta washed the blood off my arms with warm water. Her hands shook the whole time. The healer came, wrapped my ribs, set my thumb with a sharp pop, and left without a word.

Then Greta left too.

I heard the door shut. Then I heard a second sound, a heavy click.

I limped over and tried the handle.

It didn't turn. I pulled harder. The brass rattled in my hand, but the door stayed shut.

There was no lock on the inside. Someone had removed the knob plate. I could see the fresh screw holes in the wood.

"Hello?" I knocked. "The door's stuck."

A pause. Then a deep, uncomfortable voice came through the wood.

"It's not stuck, Luna. Alpha's orders."

"Orders to do what?"

"Keep you safe."

"Safe from *who*?"

He didn't answer.

I crossed to the window and shoved back the curtain. Rain streaked the glass.

Below, under a dripping pine, a third guard stood with his arms folded. He was looking straight up at me.

When he saw my face in the glass, he didn't look away.

I let the curtain fall.

Three months in a basement. One night home.

And I was back in a cage.

Deep inside me, so faint I almost missed it, Ember stirred.

*Mara,* she breathed. *The man at the window. Smell him.*

I pressed my nose to the cold glass and drew in a slow breath.

Under the rain and the pine, there was the faint, sour stink of cheap whiskey.