Chapter 8 CHAPTER EIGHT

Hellen’s POV

They called me Luna, but in that moment, curled beneath the furs, I felt more like prey. The word echoed in my head, a hollow crown pressing into my skull. Luna. A title meant for strength, for dominance, for a woman who stood at her Alpha’s side without trembling. But what was I, if not a shadow in his chamber, weak and fading while others whispered of my replacement?

Their voices still rang in my ears, sharp as blades.

“She grows weaker by the day,” the healer had muttered.

“Good,” Laura had answered, her tone honeyed with malice. “The Alpha deserves a Luna who can stand beside him, not one who drags him down.”

I clutched the blankets tighter, willing my heart to slow. Every beat thundered in my chest, a frantic drum that threatened to give me away. Replace me. The words burned, carving themselves into my bones.

I should have confronted them. I threw open the door and demanded answers. But my body betrayed me, heavy as stone, every muscle screaming with exhaustion. Even worse was the truth I had no strength to deny: they were right. I was weak.

But weakness did not mean silence.

The fire snapped in the hearth, spilling a wash of gold across the room. My reflection in the mirror glared back at me, pale, hollow-eyed, a Luna in name only. Yet in the flicker of the flames, I swore I saw the other version of myself again. The woman cloaked in silver light, with eyes like a blood moon. A ghost of power that both terrified and tempted me.

“Who are you?” I whispered into the silence. My own voice sounded foreign, cracked, and raw.

The mirror, of course, did not answer.

The door creaked. My body stiffened.

Paul slipped inside, quiet as a shadow. His broad frame nearly filled the doorway, his presence grounding and solid in contrast to the storm raging in my head. His eyes softened when they fell on me, and for once, pity wasn’t what I saw there. It was something warmer, something that felt dangerously close to hope.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low so it wouldn’t carry beyond the walls.

I nodded, pushing myself up despite the protest in my chest. “Was it… loud?”

Paul’s gaze sharpened, and I knew he understood what I meant. He closed the door behind him, stepping closer. The scent of earth and steel clung to him, Beta through and through, a warrior shaped by loyalty.

“I heard enough,” he admitted. “And you’re not wrong to be wary of Laura. She’s been… overstepping.”

“That’s one word for it,” I muttered, bitterness slipping through. My lips trembled, but I bit them until they stilled. “She wants me gone, Paul. And the healer is helping her.”

His jaw flexed. For a moment, silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken truths. Finally, he lowered his voice further. “Then you can’t let them see your fear. Not now. Not ever. They’re circling like vultures, waiting for you to crumble. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

I let out a shaky laugh that wasn’t laughter at all. “You speak as though I have a choice. Look at me. I can barely sit without trembling.”

Paul’s hand hovered, then settled gently on mine. His touch was grounding, steady. “Then let them underestimate you. The deadliest blade is the one they never see coming.”

The words struck something deep inside me, something raw. For the first time in weeks, the gnawing fear inside me shifted and reshaped into something fiercer. Not strength, not yet. But a spark.

Later that night, when Paul slipped away, I stayed awake. My body begged for rest, but my mind refused. Every creak of the floorboards outside my chamber made me flinch. Every howl in the distance made me wonder if it was mourning me before I was even gone.

When the moon climbed higher, I forced myself out of bed. The floor was cold beneath my bare feet, sending shivers up my spine. I moved to the window, leaning against the wooden frame, and let the night air wash over me.

The pack was awake. I could feel it, the bond thrumming faintly in my chest like a thread pulled too tight. Wolves moved in the shadows below, their howls carrying across the darkened forest. Once, that sound had been my comfort. Now, it was a reminder.

This was my pack. My people. And I was letting them slip into the hands of a woman who would see me buried.

The days that followed bled together, each one a performance. I forced smiles when Laura brought me meals, but bit back retorts when she let her fingers linger against Matt’s arm in the hallways. Every time the healer pressed a vial of bitter liquid into my hands, I pretended to sip but poured it into the crack of the stone hearth when no one watched.

The first time I skipped the potion, I expected to collapse. To weaken further. But something strange happened instead. The tremors in my hands slowed. The fire in my chest burned steadier. It wasn’t strength, not yet, but it was enough to make me wonder if my sickness wasn’t the curse I thought it was.

By the third night, suspicion curdled into certainty: they weren’t healing me. They were poisoning me.

And if I didn’t act soon, they would succeed.

It was at the gathering, a week later, that the mask nearly slipped.

Matt stood tall before the pack, his voice carrying like thunder as he addressed them. He looked every inch the Alpha commanding, unyielding, untouchable. I should have been at his side, radiant and firm, a Luna to match his power. Instead, I sat draped in silks that weighed heavier than chains, fighting the urge to sway where I stood.

I felt Laura’s eyes on me. Felt her smirk cut sharper than any blade.

“The Blackthorn Pack stands unbroken,” Matt declared, his gaze sweeping over the sea of faces. Cheers rose, howls splitting the night. My heart swelled with pride for him, but also with dread because I could see the doubt flickering in the eyes of my people when they looked at me.

Too pale. Too fragile. Too silent.

Laura leaned in, her whisper a serpent’s hiss in my ear. “They deserve a Luna who can keep up with him. Do you really think that’s you?”

My nails dug into my palms until they drew blood, but I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure.

That night, when the hall emptied and Matt disappeared to speak with his guards, I caught Laura and the healer again.

In the courtyard, beneath the half-moon, their voices carried just enough for me to catch the edge of their plot.

“She won’t last much longer,” the healer said.

“Good,” Laura replied smoothly. “When she’s gone, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces. The Alpha won’t fight what’s inevitable.”

I staggered back, heart hammering so violently I thought it might burst from my chest. The shadows around me thickened, pulsing in rhythm with my panic. And just like before, the world bent.

The moon above turned crimson, and for a heartbeat, I wasn’t myself. I was her, the woman of silver light, the blood-moon shadow. Power surged through me, wild and uncontainable.

The earth trembled beneath my feet.

The torches in the courtyard flared, flames roaring higher as Laura and the healer spun around, their eyes wide with shock.

And then just as quickly, it was gone.

The strength drained, leaving me crumpled in the darkness. My breath came ragged, my body weak again.

But their faces. I’d seen the fear in their faces.

They knew I wasn’t as broken as they thought.

I dragged myself back to my chamber, every step a battle. My mind whirled, torn between terror and exhilaration. Whatever haunted me, whatever lived inside me wasn’t done yet. And if I could harness it, maybe I wouldn’t just survive.

Maybe I’d rise.

I collapsed onto the bed, the taste of iron still on my tongue, my body trembling. The door creaked open softly, and I jolted, thinking it was Laura.

But it wasn’t.

Matt stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on me, unreadable. Shadows cloaked his features, but the weight in his eyes pinned me where I lay.

“You’re hiding something,” he said, his voice low, dangerous.

My heart froze.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

And if he pressed further, if he uncovered the truth before I was read, then the secret inside me might destroy us both.