Reborn Luna: Reject My Unwanted Alpha

Kaia POV:

The pure silver bit into Ferne's flesh, and the sharp hiss of burning skin rose into the crisp air, accompanied by the acrid stench of scorched wolf blood.

Bryce let out a frantic, guttural howl, lunging forward to disarm her, but the wild desperation in Ferne's wide eyes froze him dead in his tracks.

"Don't come closer!" Ferne shrieked, pressing the silver deeper. "I'll carve my own throat out!"

Beatrice gasped, clutching her heavy velvet bodice with trembling fingers as she barked orders at her personal guards.

"Lower your weapons! Stand back, all of you! Do not provoke her!"

Tears carved clean tracks through the mud on Ferne's cheeks. She looked past Bryce's shaking hands, locking her frantic gaze squarely onto me.

"Sister, I am not asking for a title!" she cried out, her voice cracking with manufactured grief. "I don't need a ceremony! Just let me stay by Bryce's side, even as an unmarked servant in the kitchens! Just let me breathe the same air as my Alpha!"

A ripple of sympathetic murmurs fluttered through the gathering. Several elderly Beta lords exchanged troubled looks, their eyes drifting toward me with unspoken judgment, as though my refusal to accept her made me a heartless monster.

Inside my mind, a bitter laugh echoed.

In my past life, this exact performance had fooled me. I had swallowed my pride, accepted her humble plea, and watched helplessly as she slowly dismantled my life, poisoned my wolf, and stole my rightful seat as Luna.

I stood unmoving, my arms hanging loosely at my sides, watching her theatrical tragedy unfold without a flicker of pity.

Beatrice spun around and clamped her hand onto my forearm, her nails digging into the silk of my sleeve.

"Kaia, look at her!" Beatrice hissed, her voice trembling with barely suppressed fury. "Are you truly going to stand there and watch a young girl slaughter herself on your wedding day? The blood of kin will curse your name across every pack in the realm!"

I ripped my arm from Beatrice's grasp with enough force to make the older woman stumble.

I smoothed down the ruffled silk of my cuff, keeping my voice level and cold.

"A curse? Under the ancient Royal Code, any wolf who draws a silver blade to threaten their sovereign lord or lady is guilty of high treason. The law demands her head, not my pity."

The crowd erupted into stunned whispers. Bryce stared at me as if looking at a stranger, his mouth agape.

I pointed a finger at Ferne, turning my fierce glare back to the man who claimed to be an Alpha.

"Bryce Mendoza, you stand here as the lord of this pack, yet you allow a hysterical woman to hold you hostage with a silver blade. Where is your command? Where is your strength? Is this the pathetic excuse for leadership the Mendoza Pack offers its people?"

Bryce's pale skin flushed a deep, mottled purple. Stung to the core by the public assault on his pride, his fists shook, yet his feet remained glued to the earth.

Ferne saw the tide of public opinion wavering again. With a dramatic sob, she jerked her wrist, letting the silver blade bite half an inch deeper into her neck. Dark blood poured down her collarbone, soaking the white lace of her bodice.

"Alpha, please!" Chloe wailed from the grass. "Promise her! If this goes on, the silver poison will reach Miss Ferne's heart and destroy her Inner Wolf forever!"

Bryce's fragile composure shattered entirely.

He turned on his heels, his knees buckling under the weight of his desperation, and dropped heavily to one knee in the dirt right before me.

He reached out, his muddy hands grasping for the hem of my pristine gown.

I pulled back half a step, letting his empty hands hover in the air like a beggar's cup.

Bryce looked up at me, his grey eyes bloodshot and pleading.

"Kaia, I am begging you. Yield just this once. I swear to you by the moon, you will remain the only true Luna of this castle. She will be nothing more than a shadow in the halls. She will never challenge your rule."

Looking down at the man who had ordered my execution in another life, a wave of pure nausea churned in my stomach.

Beatrice stepped forward, adopting a honeyed tone of compromise.

"Kaia, child, if you nod your head today, our pack will forever honor your grace. We will even grant you an extra tenth of the annual trade tax from the southern valley. Think of the wealth you will control."

I looked at the mother and son pair, marveling at how easily they believed honor, dignity, and bloodlines could be bought with a few gold coins and false promises.

I took a slow, deep breath, allowing my words to cut through the stillness like a winter wind.

"You expect me to permit a woman who shares a secret, broken vow with my betrothed to dwell in my household as an unmarked servant?"

Bryce nodded frantically, a flicker of triumphant relief sparking in his eyes. He truly believed I was on the verge of breaking.

My lips curved into a razor-thin smile.

"And then," I continued, my voice dropping into a deadly, ringing register, "I am supposed to sit quietly while she uses the bastard growing in her womb to rob my future heirs of their rightful inheritance?"

The clearing fell into an absolute, suffocating silence.

Every single noble, guard, and elder snapped their heads toward Ferne's flat stomach.

Beatrice staggered backward, her hands flying to her mouth in horror.

Ferne's hand jerked violently, the silver dagger slipping from her slick fingers and clattering harmlessly against a rock. She stared up at me with sheer, unadulterated terror, as though looking at a demon who had torn her mind wide open.

"What... what are you talking about?" Bryce stammered, his eyes darting frantically between me and Ferne. "That's impossible... she isn't..."

"Doctor Arthur Miller," I called out, not sparing Bryce another glance. "When you hesitated to draw blood earlier, was it truly because you feared the silver—or were you terrified that silver toxicity would stop the fragile heartbeat of the child she carries?"