Alana's POV
They've locked me in my own home.
The grand halls I once roamed freely now feel like a suffocating prison, yes he has rebuilt the castle but to his own taste.
Guards stand outside my door, not my people but his. Loyal to the one who spilled the blood of my parents, our warriors, and anyone who dared to resist.
The Alpha, that's what they call him now. A nameless monster wrapped in a cloak of command. But I know what he truly is, he is a beast who destroyed everything.
To me, he will always be Pack the rogue I dragged in from death's grip, the one I stupidly saved.
And he repaid me with this.
My chamber, once warm with books, silks, and the scent of lavender from my mother's garden, now smells of ash. There's a quiet that settles into my bones, too heavy to shake off. I sit on the edge of my bed, fingers trembling, vision still stained by the sight of their blood.
They were gone, just like that, and I did nothing to save them because I stupidly ran away, I couldn't stop him.
I should've not left so I would have attacked him and screamed my wolf out, fought tooth and nail.
But even after everything all I could still do was just to watch him, frozen like a coward as he stood before the remaining council, his body slick with blood that wasn't his.
They were all terrified, too afraid to challenge him, including me. He didn't need to threaten them. His mere presence was enough, his eyes like wildfire and his voice was like thunder.
"I am your Alpha now," he said. No one denied him. Cowards. All of them.
And I? I am just crying here, now having power to do anything because now, he has already stripped me of my title, my crown, my dignity, I am nothing but a prisoner in silk but masking in the name of being his Luna.
They've confined me to these walls, no longer the Princess of Mooncrest but a relic of the old regime… The Alpha's Luna.
I was supposed to lead after my father even though he disagreed. I trained and studied. I bore the weight of responsibility since I could walk. But it meant nothing now, not against him.
There's a shift in the air as the sun rises beyond the glass window. I drag myself toward it, pressing my forehead against the cool pane. Down below, I see the survivors, what's left of my pack.
Some were carrying wood, and some were training, no one dares to look toward the tower where I'm kept. It's like I've been erased, a ghost they fear acknowledging.
I can't blame them, they kneel to him now.
They call him Alpha, not knowing his name, not knowing where he came from. Only that he's powerful, merciless, and capable of tearing a warrior apart with his bare hands. And he did, I saw him do it.
But what they don't know is that I saw the man beneath the blood and dominance. The one I found dying in the forest. The one I saved.
Why didn't I let him die?
The door creaks open, and I turn sharply, heart lurching. A girl walks in with a tray of food. Warm bread, a bit of cheese and soup. She bows her head quickly, not meeting my eyes.
"You don't have to be afraid of me," I whisper.
She freezes but doesn't respond. She sets the tray on the table and backs away like I'm something cursed. Maybe I am.
"Wait.. what's your name?" I ask softly, stepping closer.
She hesitates, eyes flicking toward the door. "Mira," she whispers before fleeing.
Mira. Even her name sounds afraid.
I return to the window, watching them move like pieces on a board. Everything is changing, and I have no say. The council members, the ones who survived walks with lowered heads. They speak with hushed voices, afraid of being overheard. He watches them from his high platform a position that once belonged to my father.
He doesn't speak often, but when he does, they obey.
I once saw a man fall to his knees after speaking out of turn. Just a glance from him sent the man groveling. Whatever power he has, it's beyond physical. There's something ancient about him, and something felt so wrong. Like his soul is stitched from darker things.
I wonder if anyone else feels it or am I the only one who sees past his eyes and into the abyss that lies beneath?
I wrap my arms around myself and sit on the edge of the bed again. I don't want to eat, the food sits untouched. I've lost time, lost count of the days since the massacre. I hear whispers outside my door sometimes, a few servants speaking of a coronation. An official crowning of the new Alpha.
As if he needs it. He's already taken everything.
But they're surviving, aren't they? That's what they tell themselves. It's better than death, better than rebellion, better than another slaughter.
I close my eyes, and all I see is blood.
A knock breaks the silence, I didn't answer.
The door opens anyway. I hear boots, a calm, heavy sound. My breath catches in my throat, I immediately knew it's him before I even turned.
It was Pack, he didn't speak.
I meet his gaze and hold it, my jaw tight.
"What do you want?" I ask, voice cold.
He tilts his head slightly. "You're still not eating."
"Maybe I don't want to feast while my parents rot in the ground."
His eyes narrow, but he doesn't retaliate. He steps forward, and I flinch despite myself.
"Stop pretending to care," I snap.
"I don't," he says flatly. "But I don't want a dead princess haunting my halls."
"Then let me go."
His lips twitch. "You don't get to leave because you belong here now."
"I belong to nothing," I hiss.
He steps closer, and suddenly the space feels too small, the air suddenly becomes too thick. I see something flicker in his gaze, that's wishful thinking.
He lowers his voice. "Get used to this, Luna, because you are not going anywhere."
Then he turns and leaves, door closing behind him like a tomb.
I didn't cry this time, I just sit there, burning with rage.
One day, I will take it all back.
And when I do, he'll beg for the mercy he never gave me.