Chapter 8 Meeting The Luna II
I had flashbacks. Flashbacks of my stepmother and my father. My stepmother—the former Beta Luna of Scout Pack, banished for plotting against the Alpha and his sister—would always bend me over on my knees like this, sit on my head, and remain there until my muscles were paralyzed for days.
Now I was back in the exact same position, only this time the Luna wasn't even sitting on me. She did it effortlessly, as if folding a piece of paper. Meanwhile, the pain was unbearable, spreading like fire across my muscles, crawling from my back into my spine.
Hot tears brimmed in my eyes.
I had never cried when my stepmother did this. Back then, I knew I wasn't at fault. But this? This was my fault. I should have opted out when I had the chance. Instead, I stayed… and worse, I dared to let the Alpha sleep with me.
I knew I was going to face a fate far crueler than this dreadful pain. What I felt in my spine was nothing compared to what awaited me once the Alpha found out.
Finally, the Luna released her grip and stepped back, but I couldn't straighten up. My body refused me. I was paralyzed… again.
Tears slipped free as I stayed bowed down, helpless.
I heard her settling onto the couch, her stare burning into me.
"What wing are you from?"
"E-East wing, Luna."
She paused. "East wing? Are you Sable's quarter mate?"
She knows Sable?
"Y-y-yes, Luna," I stammered, my voice trembling.
"So, you are really a low-life Omega?"
I nodded, swallowing hard.
Why isn't she calling the guards? Why isn't she having me dragged out for execution?
"You, a low-life Omega," she spat, her tone laced with venom, "dared to pose as an elite werewolf and sleep with the Alpha?"
"P-please, please, Luna. I-I-I—I'm so sorry. Please," I begged, more tears streaming. My back was on fire, but the sharper pain was in my chest, stabbing at my heart.
"The Alpha lasted quite a while with you, unlike the other three women. I heard he even spent the night." Her voice dripped with disgust.
"How lucky you must feel, little Omega. The Alpha actually enjoyed how you fucked him. Isn't that right?"
Her heels clicked against the tile as she rose. I heard her pace to the far end of the office and return. I couldn't see what she carried—until I felt it.
"So, tell me," she continued, hovering over me, "what style did you give him? Did he moan your pathetic name? Did he reach his climax and…" She paused deliberately.
Then, agony.
A sizzling hot liquid poured onto my back, soaking through the soft chiffon fabric and searing my skin. I screamed, writhing, unable to move as the steam burrowed deep into me.
It had been years since I last felt this particular torment. My stepmother had once "accidentally" poured boiling water on me. Everyone said it was a mistake. Nancy and I knew the truth.
Now… here I was again.
"He probably decided then and there that you'd be his breeding mate."
My nails dug into the floor. My eyes flickered yellow. It always happened when the torture was unbearable. My fangs and claws began to emerge—only during the aftermath of such pain. Just like the time my stepmother branded my hand with hot iron.
The Luna dropped the kettle carelessly, then returned to the couch.
"I'm sure you know by now that I don't plan on handing you over to the Pack's committee for a harsher punishment."
Wait—what?
"My tutor once told me something in high school. He said the best dog is the one who knows his bone belongs to his master and no one else." Her tone was cold, calculating. "Since I now know you're a low-life Omega scheming your way into becoming the Alpha's breeder, I'll keep you. You'll be my lapdog for future use. I have a very special project coming, and my gut tells me you won't mind doing the dirty work."
She rose again, her manicured fingers trailing down my back. Instantly, the paralysis ebbed away. My muscles loosened as if nothing had ever happened.
Through blurred vision, I saw her perfectly composed while I sweated and wept. She hooked her manicured finger under my chin, tilting my face up to hers.
"You should be grateful I'm choosing to make you useful instead of letting them behead this pretty face of yours."
"Yes, Luna. Thank you," I gasped.
"The Alpha didn't catch your scent because the scent of his arousal overpowered it last night. Mr. Ronald only recognizes the scent of high-ranked wolves. You're lucky. So far, only I have come across your scent as an Omega."
I nodded weakly, dreading the aftermath of the hot water she poured on my back.
"I can help adjust your scent."
My voice cracked. "H-how?"
"None of your business," she cut in coldly. "All you need to know is that I'll erase your filthy Omega scent. Is that understood?"
I nodded again.
Her manicured hand pressed gently to my head, her eyes blazing an electric blue.
Something inside me shifted—like a part of my very being had been torn out. I gasped sharply, my body trembling, and then it was over. She withdrew her hand.
"If the Alpha asks why he can't sense your scent, simply tell him you weren't born in this Pack."
I nodded.
She stood tall, gaze sharpened like ice. "I have rules. I'll give them to you after you're sealed as the Alpha's breeder. But the most important rule is this: never look into the Alpha's eyes when you speak to him. Never address him outside your bedroom. On full moon nights, when he mates with you, do not respond. Do not moan. Do not move. You will lie there like a log and let him take what he wants."
Another tear slipped down my cheek.
This was hell. But better this… than being exposed and executed by the committee.
"Am I understood?"
"Yes, Luna."