The chosen Luna

They fully accepted me into their small group, taking me as one of them.

Dara apologized for referring to me as a stray. She narrated her experience with other pack wolves and I wouldn't blame her if she had still refused to take me in.

Riven was relentless, pushing me beyond my limits. Every morning, before the sun even broke through the trees, he forced me into drills — striking, dodging, countering. If I hesitated, he knocked me down. If I make mistakes, he makes me start over.

“Pack life makes you soft,” he said after slamming me into the dirt for the third time that day. His breath was steady, while mine was ragged. "Out here, you have to be sharper, faster. You can't hesitate. Else you die.”

He kept using the word, die, like it's some kind of situation he often encounters.

I spat blood and dirt from my mouth and stood up, “I am not soft.”

He smirked. “Then, prove it.”

So I did.

Day by day, I learned to move faster, to strike harder, to anticipate rather than react. Riven never let me give up, but neither did I. The bruises covering my body became badges, proof that I was no longer the sheltered Luna they had cast out.

Dara, meanwhile, made me disappear. She showed me how to move through the forest without a sound, how to mask my scent, how to become the hunter instead of the hunted. “Most wolves rely on brute strength,” she said one night as we crouched in the underbrush. “But the best way to survive is to never be seen at all.”

She taught me how to track, how to listen—not just to the obvious signs, but to the whispers of the wild itself. A bird suddenly taking flight, the absence of crickets, the way the wind carried unfamiliar scents. “The forest always tells a story,” she said. “You just have to listen.”

She's like the heart of the group, her encouraging words and entertaining tales keeping us moving.

Silas was the quietest of them all, but his lessons were the most practical. He taught me how to build shelter from the elements, how to set traps for food, how to find my way when I had nothing but the stars. “You never know when you'll be alone,” was all he said, and the look in his eyes made me wonder just how many nights he'd spent surviving on his own.

It was tough. I failed more times than I succeeded. But I kept going.

And then came the night that changed everything.

It started with a scent.

Dara stiffened first. The air smelled wrong—tainted with sweat, steel, and something else.

“Move,” she whispered.

We scattered just as the first arrow sliced through the air. It stuck itself in the tree behind where I'd been standing a second earlier. My heartbeat increased.

Rogue hunters.

They were mercenaries, hired by packs to track and eliminate exiled wolves. They fought with silver and fire, and they didn’t take prisoners.

Riven was already shifting, his bones snapping as he dropped to all fours, his wolf dark and massive. Dara melted into the shadows, while Silas pulled a long blade from his belt.

I should have run.

The old Selene—the one who had been betrayed, exiled, left to die—would have.

But I didn't.

The moment one of them lunged for me, my body reacted on instinct. I ducked under his swing, moving so fast I barely recognized my movements. He was fast, but I was faster. Riven had made sure of that.

I slammed my elbow into his ribs, making him stumble. Before he could recover, my claws were out, slicing through his flesh.

He choked, his eyes wide with shock as he crumpled to the ground.

Another hunter charged. I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and wrenched it at the wrong angle.

The fight was intense. I lost track of how many we took down, how many more ran away into the night when they realized they were outmatched.

Riven wiped a hand across his bloodied lip, grinning at me. “Not bad,” he said. “Not bad at all.”

Dara gave me a nod. Silas didn't speak, but when he met my gaze, I could tell that he was impressed.

I exhaled slowly. My hands were still shaking, my body aching with exhaustion.

Riven nudged one of the bodies with his leg, frowning. “This wasn’t just some random hit squad. They knew what they were doing. Someone paid real money to make sure you didn’t walk away from this.”

Dara wiped a streak of blood from her cheek. “And they’re not done. Whoever sent them won’t stop.” Her sharp gaze flicked to me. “They want you dead, Selene.”

Silas crouched next to one of the fallen mercenaries, yanking something off his belt. A worn metal emblem with a wolf’s head split by a blade. His expression darkened.

“Night bane Order,” he muttered.

Riven let out a low whistle. “Well. That’s just fantastic.”

I frowned. “Who the hell are they?”

Dara tucked her knife away. “Pack-funded mercs. They don’t do clean-up jobs, Selene. They do execution.”

I glanced at the bodies, the blood soaking the dirt. A piece of paper lay in the dirt and I picked it up to see an image. It wasn't exactly drawn to perfection, but there was no doubt, this was, Silas.

“They came here for you,” I said in a low tone.

“I guess he never gives up, doesn't he” Riven sighed.

I looked confused.

“The night bane order have tried once to have him killed, but we just ended up running away and finding another place to stay.” Dara said.

“What do they want with, Silas?”

They looked at each other as if hesitating before Silas spoke.

“My brother wants me dead. They will surely be back.”

“Then we don’t wait for the next attack. We will take the fight to them.”

Riven gave a sharp grin. “Now that's what I like to hear.”

Dara smirked. “She’s finally thinking like a rogue.”

Silas said nothing, just gave a single, approving nod.

Riven rolled his shoulders. “You keep this up, and we might just start calling you Alpha.”

I snorted. “I don't think I'm fit for that.”

Riven smirked. “Nah, I’m serious. You’ve got that whole ‘vengeful, badass leader’ thing going on. Kind of hot, actually—”

Dara hit Riven on his shoulder and he winced in pain.

“You hit on her, and I won't hesitate to rip out your skull.” She threatened.

I chuckled watching them, despite everything they've gone through, they still find a reason to smile.