The Rogue Spirit Who Shattered the Luna’s Crown

I was born a vengeful spirit, waiting only for this life to end in tragedy so I could become a true demon. On the advice of other spirits, I reincarnated as a girl in this world, hoping to be drowned at birth if luck was on my side.

But I survived.

My mother, Evelyn, cherished me, and my father, Waylon, adored me like a precious gem. For thirteen years, their love softened the bitterness in my soul. Until my uncle’s crimes caught up with him, and my father, the second-ranked Delta, was forced to take the blame. My mother, too, was sentenced to death.

When my aunt threw me into the river, I didn’t resist. Only a single tear escaped my eye.

I had broken my promise.

I had promised my father I’d be good.

But now, no one would be spared.

==============================

The Lycan King’s decree arrived.

My father was sentenced to a brutal execution, and my mother would face the pack’s justice at dawn. The crime of selling forbidden weapons to rogue werewolves was pinned solely on my father.

To maintain control, the Alpha’s mate had forbidden my father from leaving the pack, yet she had swiftly cast him out when trouble arose. Now, there were two factions within the Red Pack, and everyone knew it was Waylon Cook, the second-ranked Delta, who had betrayed them.

The Lycan King had passed judgment on the exiled family, not on the Alpha’s inner circle.

I learned of this while locked in the pack’s storage room, hearing the news from the whispers of the Omegas.

When had this decree even been issued?

Though I was not yet a full-fledged demon, as a vengeful spirit, I had seen countless horrors.

What hadn’t I endured?

Yet my heart ached in a way I couldn’t explain.

Before, the suffering had always been mine to bear.

Why was this different?

When my uncle came that day, he didn’t even need to threaten me. He simply looked at me, and my parents gave in.

I heard my father say,

“I’ll take the blame.”

“But you must claim Harper as your own. She’s no longer my daughter, and she has no connection to me…”

My mother, her voice trembling but firm, added,

“If anything happens to Harper, I’ll haunt you, even as a ghost!”

Perhaps it was the body I inhabited, too young and fragile, but I cried.

Before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face.

Stupid mother.

Becoming a vengeful spirit isn’t easy. It takes enduring the torment of the spirit realm a thousand times over, clinging to your anger, to earn that chance.

I must have been mad.

Though I wasn’t truly a thirteen-year-old girl, I clung to my mother, refusing to let go until I felt her wince in pain.

My father coaxed me,

“Harper, your mother and I are just going away for a few days. We’ll come back for you soon.”

I knew it was a lie, but before I could react, I was fed a sip of drugged tea.

My father’s tears fell on my cheek as he whispered,

“Harper, if you get the chance, find Azalea Perry in the west district!”

Those were the last words I heard before everything went black. When I woke, I was locked in the storage room.

Another moldy piece of bread was tossed in, but I didn’t hesitate to devour it.

I refused to believe it.

I couldn’t have been unconscious for three days. If I escaped now, there might still be a chance.

My father had once told me the Lycan King was just and often listened to the pleas of his people. Maybe he’d hear me out.

What did it matter if the entire Red Pack suffered?

I’d rather see them all fall, every last one of them.

At least my father wouldn’t face that torturous death, and my mother wouldn’t be alone.