Died as His Luna, Returned as His Nightmare

Elara's POV: "Why hasn't the prisoner in there been making any noise lately?" a muffled voice drifted through the heavy iron door.

It was Bree, one of the pack guards. "Who knows?" Skye, the other guard, replied, her tone laced with a mix of disdain and pity. "To think of how enviable she used to be... the way the Alpha doted on her.

Why did she have to lose her mind and try to murder Estella's child?" Leaning against the freezing stone wall of The Stone Quarters, I heard every word.

A profound, hollow sorrow washed over me. The cold of this damp, lightless prison was a physical thing, a creature with icy teeth gnawing at my bones.

It seeped through my threadbare dress and into the very marrow of my soul. I closed my eyes, and the image of his face flashed in the darkness. Alpha Hardin Preston. My fated mate.

My executioner.

I remembered the intoxicating happiness of our engagement, the warmth of his large hands holding mine as he made his unwavering vows. “I will protect you forever, Elara.

Nothing will ever hurt you.” But those sweet promises had morphed into a deadly poison. "I, Hardin Preston, reject you, Elara Gardner, as my mate." His voice, once the anchor of my world, had been an ice blade.

He had been so absolute, so ruthless. He would rather endure the agonizing, soultearing backlash of defying the Moon Goddess’s sacred law than remain bound to me.

The sheer coldness of his choice froze the very blood in my veins, leaving me utterly chilled. Then, another face appeared in my mind. Estella Monroe.

My supposed best friend, my sister of the heart. I remembered her gentle smiles, the way she used to care for me, gifting me that "calming incense" to ease my anxiety.

I didn't know it was laced with wolfsbane. I didn't know it was a meticulously crafted trap until that fateful day in the pack hall.

She had approached me with a sweet, innocent smile, offering me a cup of tea. But as she leaned in close, the warmth vanished from her face.

Her brilliant green eyes flashed with a venomous, mocking glint. "You know, Elara," she whispered, her voice a sickening purr that only I could hear. "Hardin never wanted a mate.

He just wanted an heir. And now that I'm carrying his pup... you're just a pathetic obstacle.

Watch how easily I make him throw you away." Before I could even process her malicious words, Estella threw herself backward.

The porcelain cup shattered violently against the stone floor. She collapsed, clutching her stomach, her face instantly contorting into a mask of sheer terror and agony. "Elara, no!

Why?!" she shrieked, her voice echoing through the hall, drawing everyone's horrified attention. "I know you're jealous, but why would you poison my baby?! It hurts!

Hardin, help me!" A lie. All of it. But Hardin burst through the heavy oak doors, his eyes wild with panic.

He dropped to his knees beside her, his large, battlescarred hands trembling as he pulled her into his arms.

The faint scent of wolfsbane—clinging to my clothes from the very incense she had gifted me—filled the air, damning me without a trial. "My baby..." Estella sobbed into his chest, a flawless picture of a heartbroken, terrified mother. "She couldn't stand that I was pregnant with your child..." I saw the exact moment Hardin's heart broke.

Raw, agonizing grief twisted his handsome features as he realized his unborn pup was slipping away. He held Estella tighter, his broad shoulders shaking with the weight of the loss.

Then, he slowly raised his head to look at me.

The love and warmth that used to reside in his eyes were entirely gone, replaced by a chilling, absolute disgust. "Hardin, I didn't—" I tried to step forward, my voice trembling with desperation. "She gave me that incense!

She set this up!" "Shut up!" he roared. His Alpha aura slammed into me like a physical blow, forcing me to my knees.

He looked down at me as if I were a monster, his voice dripping with profound disappointment and icy rage. "I never thought you could be so vicious, that you couldn't even tolerate an innocent child." What shattered me most wasn't just the betrayal, but the look in Estella's eyes when the matebond was severed moments later.

As I collapsed, coughing up blood from the divine backlash of his rejection, I caught a glimpse of her face behind Hardin's broad back.

The mask of the terrified victim slipped, revealing a twisted, triumphant smirk.

The stark contrast between her past warmth and that sickening smugness made my reality feel utterly absurd and tragically bleak.

Another violent cough tore through my body, shattering the fragmented memories in my mind. Hot, wet liquid filled my mouth. I tasted blood.

My fingers, numb and stiff, curled tightly around the small object in my palm—a wooden wolf I had carved for the pup I would never hold. That was my child. My dead child.

Dark blood spattered onto it, staining the pale wood a sickening red.

The loss of blood made my head spin, and looking at the wooden wolf in my palm, I suddenly felt like laughing out loud.

Hardin only saw that his mistress had lost her child, completely forgetting how painful it was for me to lose my child with him.

I once had his child too...I recall the joy of discovering it, that tiny life slowly taking shape inside me—those were the happiest times for Hardin and me.

He even carved two little wooden wolves for our unborn child, one for him and one for me. But I never got to hold my child in my arms. It died in my womb before it was born.

I loved my child so much, how could I possibly kill someone else's child out of jealousy? My life force was draining away like sand through an hourglass.

Months of neglect and the biting cold of this prison had allowed illness to ravage my weakened body.

My wolf had gone silent weeks ago. “I will never let you get hurt again.” Hardin’s past words echoed in my ears, mocking me.

A fierce, burning anger ignited through my agonizing pain. If there is a next life, I vowed to myself, my heart screaming in the silent dark, I will overthrow all of this.

I will tear down their lies and never let this happen again. I had to let go. To sever the final thread.

With the last of my strength, I pressed the bloodstained carving to my heart. Just as my vision began to darken, the heavy iron door creaked open.

The bleak twilight spilled in, casting the silhouettes of Bree and Skye.

Through my fading senses, I saw them step closer, realizing my time was up. "Is she...?" Bree's voice was a shaky whisper.

Skye let out a long sigh, the sound heavy with a pity that came far too late. "She's barely breathing. She won't make it.

Go... go inform the Alpha." My lips cracked as I formed the words, a whisper lost to the wind whistling through the stone walls. A final, tearing agony ripped through my soul.

I closed my eyes, losing consciousness as the world went blessedly, terrifyingly cold and silent. I lost consciousness, sinking into an endless, suffocating void.

And then, out of the absolute nothingness, I felt it. A pull. A violent, magnetic force yanking me backward through the dark.

I gasped, my lungs suddenly filling with sharp, freezing air. Carrying a soul full of burning unwillingness and profound hatred, my eyes snapped open.

Kaitlin's POV: I gasped, my eyes flying open. Air flooded my lungs in a burning, ragged torrent.

My chest heaved violently, and the frantic, rhythmic thud of a heartbeat echoed in my ears. I am breathing. The realization hit me with the force of a lightning strike.

I remembered the suffocating void, the absolute finality of my death in The Stone Quarters. I remembered my spirit fading away into nothingness at the graveyard.

Yet here I was, feeling the soft linen beneath my hands and the painful, undeniable throb of life in my veins. The Moon Goddess hadn't let me fade. She had sent me back.

I was reborn. But as I tried to sit up, a wave of intense dizziness washed over me. This body... it felt entirely alien.

It was a fragile, birdlike cage of bones, completely devoid of the muscular strength and vitality I had possessed as a Luna.

I swung my unfamiliar legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet hitting a plush rug.

The room around me was a blur of soft pink walls and a vanity table cluttered with girlish trinkets. It wasn't the damp prison I died in, nor was it the grand Alpha's estate.

Trembling, I used the edge of the vanity to pull myself up and stared into the ornate mirror. The face staring back at me confirmed my impossible reality. It was not my own.

It was a girl, no older than seventeen or eighteen. She was undeniably pretty, but painfully pale and delicate, like a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering.

Wide, frightened eyes stared back at me. This was not the face of Elara Gardner, the twentyeightyearold woman who had commanded respect and endured unimaginable betrayal.

I reached up, my trembling fingers brushing the stranger's cheek. I felt the touch. It was my cheek now.

Suddenly, a tidal wave of foreign memories crashed into my skull, so violent it drove me to my knees. I remembered... water. Freezing, dark water filling my lungs.

I had been in the garden. I was always weak, always sick. I had fallen into the pond. Names and faces that weren't mine flooded my mind. A life of quiet, pathetic suffering.

I was Kaitlin Padilla. I had a stern, distant father, Lord Victor, and a vain, cruel younger sister, Antonia.

Two lives, two souls, violently colliding and fusing inside this one frail vessel. The agony of Elara's rejection and death mixed with the suffocating terror of Kaitlin's drowning.

I cried out, clutching my throbbing head. "Miss! Oh, Goddess, you're awake!" The bedroom door flew open, and a young maid rushed in, her face a picture of absolute relief.

She dropped the towels in her hands and hurried to my side, helping me up with gentle, practiced hands. Through Kaitlin's newly integrated memories, I recognized her.

This was Willow Hayes, my personal maid. Her concern was genuine, a small, unexpected island of warmth in the chaotic sea of my rebirth. "I... I feel dizzy," I managed to whisper.

The voice that came out was thin and reedy. Kaitlin's voice.

Willow carefully guided me back to the bed, fussing over me and pressing a glass of cool water to my lips. "You gave us such a fright, Miss Kaitlin!

You've been unconscious for three whole days since you fell into the pond. The doctor said it was a miracle you survived!" Three days.

I gripped the glass, my mind racing. "Willow," I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "What... what is today's date?" She blinked, confused by the question, but answered quickly.

When she spoke the date, my blood ran icecold. It was the exact anniversary of my death. I had been dead for exactly one year. For twelve months.

After Willow finally left to inform my "father" that I was awake, I lay in the silence of the pink room, letting the pieces click into place.

I closed my eyes and reached deep inside myself, searching for the familiar, comforting presence of my wolf. Nothing. Absolute silence. This body was completely wolfless.

To any werewolf, I was the lowest of the low, a weak, scentless humanlike girl. A slow, dark smile crept onto my lips. It was a perfect disguise.

No one in their right mind would ever suspect a sickly, wolfless teenager of harboring the vengeful soul of their former Luna.

The grief, the despair, the agonizing pain of my past life... it was all still there, burning in my chest. But it was no longer a weakness.

It had been forged into a weapon of pure, glacial hatred. I pushed the blankets aside, stood up, and walked back to the mirror. I looked deep into the eyes of Kaitlin Padilla.

The frightened, fragile girl who had drowned in that pond was gone. In her place burned the cold, unyielding fire of Elara Gardner. I am back.

My lips didn't move, but the vow echoed in the deepest, darkest part of my new soul. Estella Monroe. Hardin Preston. I will take back everything you stole from me.

And I will make you pay in blood.

Kaitlin's POV: "Kaitlin." My father, Lord Victor Padilla, didn't bother with pleasantries.

I stood before his massive oak desk, the stifling scent of old parchment and his palpable disappointment thick in the air.

He didn't ask how I was feeling after nearly drowning three days ago.

Instead, his gaze raked over me like a merchant weighing a piece of damaged goods, calculating my remaining value now that I hadn't inconveniently died. "You are eighteen," he stated, his tone clipped and entirely devoid of paternal warmth. "It is time you contributed to this family." My physical heart—this new, frustratingly weak organ—gave a pathetic, nervous flutter.

But the soul inside was Elara's, cold and steady. "The Alpha is holding a selection for his new mate," he continued, his voice flat. "I have submitted your name.

You will go to the Alpha's Court." Hardin. The name echoed in my skull like a death knell. He was looking for a new Luna. A new mate to replace the one he had murdered.

A hysterical, bloodchilling laugh bubbled up in my chest, but I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste copper, forcing it down. Hardin's court.

The very viper's nest where I had been betrayed and condemned.

It was exactly where I needed to be, the perfect stage for my vengeance, but I couldn't let this calculating man see a fraction of my dark joy.

I immediately lowered my head, letting my dark hair fall forward to hide my eyes.

I forced my frail shoulders to tremble, playing the part of the terrified, sickly daughter. "Father, please... my health," I whispered, my voice quivering. "I am not strong enough for the court.

I would be so afraid." His brow furrowed in deep irritation. "This is not a request, Kaitlin. It is an order.

The Padilla name desperately needs this opportunity, and you will not ruin it with your cowardice." This was my opening.

I slowly looked up, allowing a pool of unshed tears to well in Kaitlin's wide, innocent eyes. "I can go, Father. I will do my duty. But...

I have one condition." He leaned back in his heavy leather chair, his eyes narrowing slightly.

I could see the surprise registering on his face at this rare flicker of defiance from his usually docile daughter. "Before I am... confined to the court," I whispered, letting my voice break artfully, "I wish to have the freedom to leave the manor.

To see the world outside these walls, just for a little while. Please." It was a simple, pathetic girlish request. A last taste of freedom before being locked in a gilded cage.

It was perfectly believable. I watched the cold calculation behind his eyes. To him, it must have seemed like a trivial concession to keep the merchandise compliant.

As long as I ended up exactly where he wanted me, he didn't care how I spent my final days at home. "Fine," he conceded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You have your freedom.

Until the summons comes." A small, crucial victory. I had my key.

As I stepped out of the suffocating study, I nearly collided with my stepmother, Autumn, and my younger halfsister, Antonia.

Autumn's smile was already in place, as thin and sharp as a shard of glass. "Finished with your chat, Kaitlin?" Autumn purred, her eyes darting over my face. "You look surprisingly pleased.

It must be good news." Antonia, dripping in gaudy, tasteless jewelry that made my former Luna sensibilities cringe, eyed me with open, venomous jealousy. "I hear my dear sister is off to the Alpha's Court.

What an absolute honor for us all," she sneered, her tone pure acid. I didn't flinch. I simply looked past them, my face a mask of serene indifference, and continued down the hall.

To a girl like Antonia, being ignored was a far greater insult than any sharp retort. "Kaitlin!" Autumn's voice snapped, stopping me in my tracks.

She glided over, her manicured hand landing heavily on my arm in a sickening show of false affection. "Tonight is the Blossom Moon Festival in the town square.

Since you're suddenly so eager to be out and about, you should take Antonia with you. A wonderful chance for you sisters to bond before you leave us." It was a blatant trap.

They wanted to use my newly won privilege to parade Antonia in front of eligible, highranking wolves, hoping she would catch an eye while I faded into the background.

But a trap could easily be turned into a tool. I desperately needed a loud, obnoxious distraction to slip away unnoticed tonight. Antonia was the perfect bait.

I turned back to them, forcing a small, fragile smile onto my lips. "Of course, Stepmother.

I would be delighted to take my sister." I watched Antonia's chin lift in smug triumph, her eyes gleaming as if she had just outsmarted me.

Autumn's smile widened, clearly convinced I was still the same pliable, foolish girl I had been three days ago.

They had absolutely no idea what kind of monster had woken up in this house.

Later that evening, as my maid Willow helped me fasten my simple, dark cloak, her brow was furrowed with genuine worry. "Miss, are you sure about taking her?" Willow whispered, glancing nervously toward the door. "She'll only make you miserable." I reached out and gently patted Willow's hand, my voice dropping to a low, steady murmur. "Don't worry, Willow.

I just need her to cause a distraction." In the carriage ride to the town square, Antonia chattered endlessly, her shrill voice filling the small space as she listed the wealthy lords she hoped to meet and the extravagant dresses she planned to wear when she inevitably visited the court.

I leaned my head against the window, closing my eyes and feigning a severe headache.

While she babbled about petty social climbing, my mind was a map of cold, calculated strategy, planning my exact route through the festival crowds.

Outside, the vibrant festival lights began to beckon through the glass. For Antonia, tonight was just a party. But for me, it was the first move in a war.