The Vengeful Return Of His Unwanted Luna

Julianna POV:

I pressed myself against the cool glass of the greenhouse wall, using the faint moonlight to navigate through the maze of exotic plants. The humid air, thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and damp earth, felt heavy in my lungs.

My bare feet made no sound on the stone path, but a dry twig snapped under my heel. The sound was like a gunshot in the night. The chirping of crickets abruptly ceased.

A blinding beam of light sliced through the darkness, hitting me straight in the eyes. I threw an arm up, momentarily blinded, spots dancing in my vision.

Three shapes materialized from the shadows, huge and menacing. They were Cameron's warriors, their forms blocking the only path to the outer wall.

And then, a figure stepped out from behind them.

Ana.

She was wearing a flowing silk robe, completely out of place in the damp greenhouse. The sharp click-clack of her heels on the flagstones was the sound of a predator approaching its cornered prey.

"Sister," she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Going somewhere?"

The time for words was over.

I didn't answer. I pulled the silver dagger from my coat. The blade caught the moonlight, flashing with a cold, deadly promise.

The warrior in front flinched, taking an instinctive step back. The fear of silver was bred into our bones.

Ana's sweet expression hardened into a vicious sneer. "Get her."

Two of the warriors roared, their features shifting in a partial transformation. Claws extended from their fingertips as they lunged.

I twisted, dodging the first swipe. The claws raked the air where my throat had been a second before. I brought the dagger around in a low arc, slicing across the back of the second warrior's arm.

He screamed, a high-pitched sound of agony as the silver burned his flesh. The acrid smell of seared skin filled the air.

The sound enraged his partner. He didn't attack from the front. Instead, he kicked out, his boot connecting squarely with my spine.

The force of the blow sent me flying. I slammed into a wrought-iron potting shelf, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. Pain exploded in my chest, and the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth.

Before I could even try to get up, Ana was there. She raised her foot, the stiletto heel of her shoe poised over my right hand, the one still clutching the dagger.

She brought it down.

A sickening crunch echoed in the greenhouse, followed by a wave of white-hot agony that shot up my arm. A choked gasp was torn from my throat as my fingers went numb. The silver dagger slipped from my grasp and skittered into the shadows of a fern.

Ana leaned down, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back. Her face was inches from mine, her eyes gleaming with triumphant hatred.

"I'm not just taking Cameron," she hissed, her voice a venomous whisper. "I'm taking everything. Your name, your title, your life."

Pain lanced through me, but my defiance burned hotter. I gathered the blood and saliva in my mouth and spat it directly in her face.

Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed into slits of pure fury. She wiped the spittle away with the back of her hand and snatched an electric stun baton from the belt of a nearby guard.

She swung it hard against my left arm. A jolt of electricity seized my muscles, and another crack of bone signaled the end of my ability to fight back.

Just then, heavy, purposeful footsteps sounded at the greenhouse entrance.

Cameron.

He stood there, silhouetted against the dim lights of the manor, a long, dark coat draped over his shoulders. His face was a mask of thunderous rage.

For one stupid, insane second, a flicker of hope ignited in my chest. He's my mate. He'll see the truth.

The hope died the moment his eyes met mine. He looked at me like I was something vile he'd found on the bottom of his shoe.

Ana immediately transformed. Her vicious expression melted away, replaced by one of terror. She scrambled into his arms, sobbing.

"She tried to kill me, Cameron!" she wailed, pointing a trembling finger at the silver dagger lying in the dirt. "She came at me with silver! She's gone insane with jealousy!"

Cameron's gaze shifted to the dagger, its blade stained with the warrior's blood. His expression turned murderous. He truly believed her. He believed I, his fated mate, would try to murder my own sister.

He strode toward me, his presence suffocating. He stood over my broken body, a judge about to deliver a sentence.

"You have attacked a member of this pack with silver," he declared, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion. "You have committed the highest treason. I strip you of your name and your standing."

I started to laugh, a broken, gurgling sound that turned into a fit of coughing. Blood splattered onto the white rose petals at my feet. "Are you blind?" I choked out.

He ignored me. He reached inside his coat and pulled out a long, slender blade. A silver hunting knife, reserved for executing traitors.

"This is for Ana," he said, his voice flat. "To protect her."

He raised the knife.

The silver blade sliced through the air with a terrifying whistle.

It came down on my right shoulder, where my arm met my body.

The pain was absolute. It was a fire that consumed my entire being, a white-hot agony that burned away thought, sound, and sight. A scream was ripped from my soul, raw and animalistic.

Blood gushed from the wound, a hot torrent that soaked my clothes and pooled on the ground, turning the white roses to a sickening crimson. My body convulsed, my vision blurring into a grey haze.

Through the fog, I saw him wipe the blood from his blade with a handkerchief. He turned, wrapped his arm around Ana's shoulders, and walked away, leaving me to die in a puddle of my own blood.

The guards followed, their footsteps receding into the night.

I was alone.

My life was draining out of me, seeping into the cold earth. I stared at their retreating backs, the image burning into my dying mind. The despair, the pain, it all melted away, leaving behind a single, pure emotion.

Hate.

It was the last thing I felt before the darkness swallowed me whole.

There was no pain. Nobody. Nothing.

Only a cold, silent darkness that stretched on for eternity. I was floating, a disembodied consciousness adrift in a sea of nothing.

Then, images began to flicker at the edge of my awareness, memories playing out like a disjointed film.

I saw Martha, my loyal Martha, trying to create a diversion for me. I saw Ana's guards catch her. I saw them beat her, her life ending on the cold stone floor of the servants' quarters because of me. A silent scream of grief and rage echoed in the void that was my soul.

Another memory surfaced. A blizzard, five years ago. The wind howled, and the snow was a blinding white curtain. I was wearing a heavy red cloak and a bronze tusk mask to hide my identity. I was dragging a half-dead Cameron through the snow, his blood leaving a dark trail behind us. I had just saved him from a pack of feral rogues, his body a dead weight against mine.

I saved him.

The regret was a poison, more painful than any silver blade. I had saved the man who would one day murder me. I had brought this viper into my life.

A pinprick of light appeared in the vast darkness. It grew, expanding into a soft, silver glow. A voice, ancient and powerful, whispered in my mind. It was not made of words, but of feeling-of warmth, of sorrow, and of a second chance. The Moon Goddess.

A powerful force suddenly yanked me downward. I was falling, tumbling through the darkness, the sensation of gravity returning with a nauseating rush.

I gasped, a real, lung-filling gasp, and my eyes flew open.

I shot up, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I was in a bed. My bed.