The Scarred Luna: Taming The Ruthless Alpha

JASELYA'S POV

I had never crossed the threshold of the throne room as anything other than an unseen servant, busy scrubbing the marble under absent gazes.

So when Urélia woke me to announce that the Alpha was demanding my presence, I felt as if I were being torn from an impossible reality.

She made me swallow a few remedies to soothe the burns on my back and handed me something clean, different from my usual rags.

Every step in the corridor, flanked by two silent guards, made my breathing heavier. The closer I got to the hall of power, the tighter my stomach clenched.

Why me?

A hidden execution? A verdict already decided?

The great doors swung open.

The room swallowed me whole.

They were all there.

Luna Marilyne, Jessie, and Abel stood near the throne, alongside an elder of the Council, Leman, a Lycan marked by the years.

And in the center, there he was.

Alpha Balak.

My gaze latched on, against my will, to the man who had given me life but refused to acknowledge it.

For the first time, his eyes didn't avoid mine.

I felt my throat tighten.

His voice fell, dry and blunt. "Your wounds... are they visible?"

I blinked, disoriented.

Was that really all this was?

"I... I could not tell, my lord," I breathed, lowering my head.

He gave a brief signal to the old man at his side.

Leman approached slowly. "Turn around," he ordered calmly.

I obeyed.

His fingers loosened the ties on my back. A reflex of panic made me flinch.

"Hold still," he murmured without harshness.

My heart was beating too fast.

The dress slipped slightly, revealing my scars without leaving me totally exposed, but the sensation was enough to turn me to ice.

A voice rose up immediately. "Let me do it," Abel offered, his insistence laced with a sweetness that rang false.

A chill ran through me.

I knew that voice. I knew that look even more.

Abel, the acknowledged son of the Alpha and my half-brother, had never hidden the sick obsession he harbored for me.

His eyes followed me through the hallways, lingering far too long on my body.

I still remembered the day he had walked into a room where I was working, tearing at my clothes before I managed to flee.

Since then, I had avoided him like a blade already drawn from its sheath.

"No," Alpha Balak cut in without hesitation. "Leman will handle it. Get out."

A heavy silence settled in.

Then, slowly, my back was laid bare for all to see.

The Alpha's voice hardened with disbelief. "Why aren't her wounds closing up?"

Leman observed carefully. "She is trapped in an incomplete state. No shifting has been triggered."

The words seemed to provoke an immediate irritation.

"Unacceptable..." Balak growled. "Bring me Urélia."

Rapid footsteps moved away.

I remained frozen, invaded by a pain older than my wounds: the pain of being ignored, again and always. Not even here, not even standing right before him.

He had never asked my age, my condition, or how I had survived. Nineteen years of existence meant nothing to him.

I felt their eyes on me, heavy as a collective sentence.

Leman spoke again, softly. "How old is she?"

No one looked at me.

"Answer," Balak ordered.

"Nineteen," I said in a low voice.

He relayed the information.

An even colder silence settled in.

"Can she heal properly?" the Alpha demanded.

Leman examined my back with caution, his fingers testing the wounds.

I stifled a flinch.

"There are signs of improvement... and traces of assisted healing. Urélia has used her own blood."

The doors opened again. Urélia entered without ceremony, as if titles meant nothing.

"You called for me?" Her voice carried no trace of submission.

Balak's gaze narrowed. "This girl... is she always like that?"

Urélia answered immediately, "Her wolf has not yet emerged. That's it." A brutal tension erupted in her reply.

"How is that possible?" He lost his temper. "Did I sire something incapable of shifting? Look at her hideous face!"

I felt my eyes burn.

Shame crushed me more surely than any blow ever had.

But Urélia stepped forward, firm. "She survived a birth that should have been impossible. Few would have lasted."

She gestured to me without reducing me to nothing. "And if you are finished, let her put her clothes back on."

She gently pulled me against her, adjusting my dress.

Balak's voice resounded, more tense. "If she remains like this, how am I supposed to deal with Xaeron and his army?"

The name hit like a stone.

Xaeron.

I couldn't understand.

Jessie burst out suddenly, "This is ridiculous! I'm supposed to bond with Dean! And now they want me to take another man?"

Her voice was breaking between rage and panic.

"There will be no marriage alliance," the Alpha declared coldly. "Dean went missing in the battle. Xaeron took him."

Jessie was silent for a beat... then screamed.

I no longer understood anything.

Everything was falling apart without logic.

"Time is short," Balak continued. "Urélia, your use of blood is an infraction. The laws forbid healing an incomplete wolf."

Urélia did not look away. "The laws especially condemn to exile those who don't shift."

I panicked.

Exile?

Me?

Gazes locked in a silence loaded with threat.

Yet, she didn't back down. Neither did he.

Finally, he exhaled. "Prepare her. They're arriving tonight. Marilyne will do what is necessary."

I stood motionless. "Prepare... for what?" I murmured.

Urélia, without letting go, fixed her eyes directly on the Alpha.

"You explain it to me yourself. What does all this really mean?"

No one spoke to him that way.

No one.

Balak's face hardened.

"We were defeated," he answered at last. "Xaeron is coming with the Council and his army. And he is demanding Jaselya as a prize."

The world seemed to warp around me.

A prize?

Me?

I stepped back slightly without realizing it.

Was Xaeron coming for me?

And what war had we lost without me even knowing?

I no longer had any grip on what was happening.

Nothing felt real.

"Dress her," the Alpha concluded in a cold voice. "Her future mate won't wait any longer."