TheBanished Luna'sAwakening

Selene didn’t speak at first.

She simply stood there, her expensive heels planted firmly in my line of vision, the faint scent of her rose perfume cutting through the damp, soapy air of the laundry room. I kept my head down, my raw fingers still moving mechanically over the last sheet, scrubbing even though my arms felt like lead.

I could feel her eyes on me.

“Leave us,” Selene said softly to Sara and Clara. Her voice was smooth, almost gentle, but it carried the unmistakable weight of command.

The two maids didn’t hesitate. They rose quickly from their knees, murmuring respectful farewells before hurrying out of the room and closing the door behind them with a soft click. The sudden silence felt heavier than their mocking laughter.

Only then did Selene speak again.

“Look at me, Lara.”

My hands stilled in the water. For a long moment, I considered ignoring her. But defiance would only make this worse. Slowly, painfully, I straightened my aching back and lifted my gaze to meet hers.

She looked radiant. Her skin glowed with health, her hair perfectly styled, and her clothes expensive and immaculate. The complete opposite of how I must have looked — drenched in sweat and dirty water, eyes swollen from crying, fingers red and cracked.

Selene smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “You’ve had a long morning, haven’t you?” she said, tilting her head slightly. “Working like a common maid on your first day. How… humbling.”

I said nothing. My throat was too dry, my body too exhausted to form words that wouldn’t shake.

She took a slow step closer, her heels clicking once against the tiled floor. “The elders have made a decision. As you know, I’m carrying the Alpha’s child. But the pregnancy has been… difficult. The healers say I’m physically weak. My body needs strength to nourish the future heir.”

Her eyes dropped deliberately to my collarbone, where my high collar had slipped slightly during work, revealing just the edge of the large, ugly birthmark I had spent years hiding.

“They believe a blood transfusion… would stabilize me.” Her smile widened, sweet and poisonous. “And since you’re still here for a few more days, the elders have decided that you will donate what is needed.”

My stomach dropped.

Blood. They wanted my blood.

The room seemed to tilt. I gripped the edge of the washbasin tightly, my swollen fingers protesting at the pressure. They couldn't get rid of me last night, so they decided to drain my blood to slowly kill me?

“Why… why my blood?” I whispered, my voice hoarse and cracking.

Selene let out a soft, pitying laugh. “Because the healers believe it will be effective. And because Matteo has already agreed. He said it was the least you could do for the pack after… everything.”

The words hit like a fresh slap.

Matteo had agreed.

Of course, he had.

I thought of all the nights he had held me, whispering that I was enough, that we would find a way despite my wolflessness and the mark on my skin. Now he was willing to drain me to strengthen the woman carrying his child. Something inside me cracked wider.

“I… I’m already weak,” I said quietly, my eyes burning with fresh tears I refused to let fall. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I’ve been working for hours without rest. Taking my blood now…”

“Will you refuse the Alpha’s order?” Selene interrupted, her voice turning sharper. “After everything this pack has given you? After you failed to give us an heir? After you brought shame upon us with your… defect?”

She stepped even closer, lowering her voice to a whisper that felt like venom sliding into my ear.

“Or would you rather I tell the pack that you’re refusing to help the future Luna and her unborn child? That the wolfless, marked girl is still trying to be difficult even in banishment?”

My hands trembled violently. The exhaustion, the hunger, the humiliation — it all pressed down on me until I felt like I was drowning.

I hated her.

I hated Matteo.

But most of all, in that moment, I hated how powerless I truly was.

Selene straightened up, smoothing down her perfect dress. “The healer is waiting in the infirmary. Sara and Clara will escort you there once you finish those last sheets. Don’t keep us waiting too long, Lara. We wouldn’t want you to cause any more trouble before you leave.”

She turned gracefully on her heel and walked toward the door, pausing only at the threshold.

“Oh, and one more thing,” she added without turning around. “Try not to faint. It would be terribly inconvenient.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me alone in the heavy silence.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the murky water in the basin. My vision blurred again, this time not just from exhaustion. The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over, mixing with the sweat and grime on my face.

I had thought the rejection and banishment were the worst things that could happen.

But this… this was something else.

They weren’t just throwing me out.

They were going to bleed me dry first.

With trembling hands, I forced myself to finish the last three sheets. When I was finally done, Sara and Clara returned, their smirks wider than before.

The door finally opened again.

Sara and Clara stepped inside, their faces twisted with smug satisfaction.

“Done already?” Clara mocked. “How hardworking of you, former Luna.”

“Time to go,” Sara added, grabbing my upper arm roughly. “The healer is waiting.”

They didn’t give me a chance to wash my hands or change my damp, dirty clothes. They simply dragged me out of the laundry room and through the familiar halls of the packhouse. My wet shoes squeaked against the floor with every exhausted step. My vision kept blurring at the edges, and my legs felt dangerously unsteady.

By the time we reached the infirmary, my breathing was shallow and ragged.

The room was brightly lit and coldly sterile. The healer — an older woman named Mira who had once treated my minor injuries with kindness- now avoided my eyes completely. On a neatly arranged tray lay syringes, tubes, and several empty blood bags.

Selene was already there. She sat comfortably in a padded chair, looking every bit the delicate, precious Luna the pack now worshipped. Her hand rested lightly over her stomach as if protecting her baby.

Matteo was nowhere to be seen.

“Strap her down,” Selene ordered calmly. “We don’t want any accidents.”

Sara and Clara shoved me into the cold metal chair. They fastened thick straps around my wrists and upper arm with unnecessary force. The rough fabric bit into my already aching skin.

Healer Mira hesitated for a brief second before inserting the large needle into the crook of my arm. The sharp sting made me flinch. “Try to relax,” the healer murmured, almost too quietly for anyone else to hear.

Relax.

As if that were possible.

The machine began its steady work. I felt the pull immediately — the slow, continuous draw of blood leaving my body. Drop by drop. Bag by bag. At first, it was just discomfort. Then came the coldness. A deep, creeping chill that started in my arm and spread through my veins. My heartbeat echoed loudly in my ears. The room grew dimmer.

Selene watched with quiet fascination, occasionally sipping from a glass of water as if she were attending a casual gathering.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours.

My head grew heavier. My thoughts became sluggish. The hatred burning in my chest was the only thing that still felt sharp. I remembered Matteo’s arms around me. His promises. The way he once kissed the birthmark I hated so much and told me it made me unique. All of it felt like a cruel joke now.

With every drop of blood that filled the bag, that old love twisted further — burning, rotting, transforming into something dark and unbreakable.

Hatred.

Pure, ice-cold hatred.

My breathing grew shallower. Black spots danced across my vision. My lips felt numb.

“Enough,” Selene said eventually, waving a graceful hand. “We don’t want her dying before she leaves the territory. That would be… messy.”

The healer removed the needle and pressed a cotton pad against my arm. Blood continued to seep slowly through it — my body too weak to clot properly.

They unstrapped me.

The moment I tried to stand, the world spun violently. My knees buckled. Sara and Clara caught me before I could collapse completely, laughing under their breath.

“Pathetic,” one of them whispered.

They half-dragged, half-carried me out of the infirmary. My body felt hollow. Empty. Like they had taken more than just blood — they had drained away the last remaining pieces of my dignity, my hope, and my strength.

I was so weak I didn’t even notice we’d passed the maids’ headquarters. Everything was a blur. Only when I heard the loud, rusty creak of the huge back gate did it finally hit me—they were taking me away from the pack. Dragging me off like I was nothing.

They tossed my limp body on the ground and just walked away.