When My Alpha Stripped Me of My Luna Rights

The silence that followed Dorothy's final breath was deafening. I remained kneeling beside her body, my hands still clutching hers, unable to process what had just happened. The banquet hall had erupted into chaos—pack members shouting, glasses shattering, chairs scraping against stone floors.

"Clara's mother collapsed!" someone yelled again, and Andrew was already moving toward the commotion, Eden clutched dramatically against his chest.

I tried once more to mind-link him. *Andrew, please! It's your mother who's dying!*

His mental wall slammed against me, so violent I physically recoiled.

"Stop being hysterical," he snapped over his shoulder. "Deal with your own family!"

The servant's door creaked open then, and a familiar figure stepped through, carrying a pitcher of water. My mother—very much alive—looked confused by the uproar.

"What's happening?" she asked, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. "I was just getting fresh water for—"

The room fell silent. Utterly silent.

Andrew froze mid-step, his arm still around Eden. Slowly, he turned toward the figure on the floor—the figure I was still cradling in my lap.

"Mother?" he whispered, his face draining of color.

In that moment, I expected him to rush to Dorothy's side. To fall to his knees beside me. To show some semblance of the grief that was tearing me apart.

Instead, his expression hardened into something I'd never seen before—pure, calculating rage.

"You," he snarled, advancing toward me with such fury that several pack members stepped back. "You did this."

I stared up at him, bewildered. "What?"

"You confused me," he spat, towering over me. "You let me believe it was your mother who collapsed. You failed as a Healer!"

The accusation hit me like a physical blow. Behind him, Eden's eyes gleamed with something that looked disturbingly like satisfaction.

"I tried to tell you," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I mind-linked you—"

"And I blocked you because I was dealing with an emergency!" Andrew roared, his Alpha aura flaring so violently that nearby pack members winced. "An emergency you fabricated!"

He turned to the assembled crowd, his voice rising to carry to every corner of the hall. "My Luna has failed in her most basic duty. She couldn't even identify who needed help!"

Murmurs rippled through the pack. I felt their eyes on me—some pitying, others accusatory.

"Eden," Andrew said, his voice softening instantly as he turned to her, "you're clearly traumatized by this... this incompetence."

Eden nodded, her lower lip trembling perfectly. "I just want to help," she whispered. "Let me comfort you, Alpha."

---

Hours later, I found myself alone in the preparation chamber, gently washing Dorothy's body for the funeral rites. The pack elders had given me this task—perhaps as punishment, perhaps because no one else wanted it.

"You deserved better," I murmured, combing her silver hair with trembling fingers.

That's when I noticed it—a faint, sweet scent clinging to the foam that had dried at the corners of her mouth. It wasn't the metallic smell of death I'd expected. It was something else entirely.

I leaned closer, inhaling deeply. My wolf stirred within me, suddenly alert.

*What is it?* she asked.

I closed my eyes, calling upon the knowledge Dorothy had secretly taught me over the years—the advanced herbal lore she'd shared when Andrew wasn't around.

"Midnight Aconite," I whispered, my blood running cold. "A modified wolfsbane."

My fingers trembled as I examined the residue more carefully. The modification was subtle—someone had combined the wolfsbane with sweetbriar to mask its bitterness. But they hadn't accounted for the distinctive scent it left behind.

This wasn't natural heart failure. This was murder.

---

"Andrew," I said firmly, pushing open his office door without knocking.

He looked up from his desk, where he sat with Eden. A half-empty bottle of whiskey stood between them, two glasses catching the lamplight.

"What is it now, Clara?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation.

"I found something," I said, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. "Dorothy was poisoned."

Eden's hand flew to her throat. "Poisoned?"

"Midnight Aconite," I continued, watching her reaction carefully. "Modified wolfsbane. I found traces in the foam from her mouth."

Andrew's expression darkened. Before he could speak, Eden burst into tears.

"She's trying to frame me!" she sobbed, clinging to Andrew's arm. "Because she's jealous of us!"

"Clara," Andrew growled, rising from his chair. "Enough."

"Andrew, please," I begged. "Just listen—"

"SILENCE!"

His Alpha command hit me like a physical blow, forcing me back a step. My wolf whimpered in pain at the assault.

"You are forbidden from investigating further," he snarled, his eyes flashing gold with Alpha power. "You will return to the Healer's wing immediately."

"But—"

"You're confined there until further notice," he continued, each word hammering into me with the weight of his command. "Perhaps some time alone will remind you of your place."

Eden's tears vanished instantly, replaced by a small, triumphant smile as Andrew placed a protective arm around her shoulders.

As I turned to leave, defeated by his command, my wolf's voice echoed in my mind: *We will find the truth. No matter what it costs.*