Luna's Dark Rebirth

"Father will definitely summon you later," Freya said. She is two years younger than Keira. Her death felt like a scene from a tragic movie replaying in my mind. Four years from now, Ronan allowed this sister to marry into another pack, which ultimately led to her death. I must have looked pale, for Freya's brow furrowed with worry. "Are you alright?" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a sleek, square device. Freya tapped the glass screen, lighting it up, and spoke into it, "Vivian, bring some medicine for Keira. She's looking unwell." "Right away, Freya!" The device responded, causing me to jump back in shock. "It—it talks!" I exclaimed in horror. "What kind of sorcery is this?!" Freya's frown deepened. "It's not the device talking, Keira. It's Vivian, our pack healer. She's speaking through the phone. Stop messing around!" For shifters, experiencing headaches during form changes is a common occurrence, and healers are well-versed in the remedies for such ailments. S

"You've got a lot to say, Keira!" the redhead spat, rising to her feet. "What now? Think you're invincible just because the elders claim Queen Nameria's spirit lingers in you?" "That's right! And look at you—still a trainee at twenty-one! You can’t even make it as a pack warrior!" “You are lucky because Alpha Heron doted on you too much!” another voice sneered. I narrowed my eyes, my claws itching to pull out my silver knife and silence them for good. One swift strike, and their irritating voices would be nothing but a memory. “Keira, no!” I heard Freya’s voice urgently through the mind link. She was still sitting on the grass, her attempt to maintain control evident in her strained expression. She’s right! I knew better! In this era of relative peace between packs, killing pack members would only lead to accusations of murder, and even Alpha Heron wouldn't be able to protect me from facing the families of these three fools. I had to restrain myself, no matter how satisfying let

In her previous life, Keira had caused a scene, demanding to know why Ronan was doing this to her. Her eyes blazed with fury as they locked onto the she-wolf Ronan was so eager to toy with, while her heart shattered as she looked back at Ronan. Keira punished Olivia after this incident, pushing Ronan further away in his frustration. But Olivia was no fool. She knew exactly what she was doing, expertly playing her cards to provoke Keira, stirring her jealousy just enough to earn sympathy and favor from the future alpha. But now, with me in control of Keira’s body, I approach the scene with calm amusement, raising an eyebrow and watching them all. Ronan, who looked at me expectantly, seemed relaxed, almost smug, as if he believed I was here to apologize for the trouble Keira had caused. He thought I’d come to grovel at his feet, to restore his reputation as the next alpha after embarrassing him in front of the elders. Not just him, but everyone in the room seemed to share that ass

My vision blurred as a familiar, harsh smell filled the air. It was the unmistakable scent of rogues—werewolves who had strayed from their pack and sanity. I felt the weight of three pairs of eyes on me: two men and one woman, all staring with a predatory intensity. The rogues’ appearances were haggard and wild. Their eyes were bloodshot, with dark, puffy circles beneath them, hinting at nights of restless wandering. The stench emanating from them was nauseating. “We heard you’re the Lycan King’s mate!” one of the men growled, his lips curling into a twisted grin that revealed yellowed fangs. How could they know about my connection to the Lycan King? Had they been following me? The idea made my skin crawl, and I suddenly felt vulnerable under the pale moonlight. “Attack her and bring her head to the Lycan King!” the other man shouted, his eyes shining with madness and cruel excitement. He was tense, muscles coiled and ready to spring at any moment. The woman stepped forward.

All the Lycans in the grand hall were looking intently at the tall, imposing man as he was the last one questioned by the man in his forties, whom I thought was the Lycan King. Seeing this mysterious Lycan, Bryn's eyes sparkled with excitement, and her cheeks flushed, perhaps because he was so captivating that Bryn had momentarily forgotten her mistakes. "Kick her out, Vera!" Theron, the Lycan King, commanded the stern-faced woman who stood beside him, her long, straight black hair reaching down to her waist. "Understood, Alpha Theron," the woman replied, I should've known that the mysterious Lycan was none other than the Lycan King himself. The way he carried himself with such poise and authority, the way he had swiftly seized and killed the female rogue in the forest without uttering a word, and the way he gave commands so effortlessly—it all pointed to his true identity. "Y-you're the Lycan King?" Bryn stammered, her voice shaking with both awe and fear. Theron's lips curved