Chapter 167

Chapter 167

 “The Luna’s Confession”

The Silver Pack Press had set up their equipment around the hall for another part of the interview. It wasn't the first official interview ever granted by Luna Camila and Alpha Marcus together—a story that every pack, elder, and alliance had long waited to hear from their own lips.

Reporters whispered in tones as the couple took their seats once again. The light from the windows streamed in. Marcus sat calm, his presence commanding even without a word. But all eyes turned to Camila, the Luna with the heaviest story to tell.

When she finally spoke, her voice carried an unmistakable authority that silenced every corner of the hall.

“Before peace,” she began, “there was betrayal. And before love, there was pain.”

The lead reporter moved closer, his recorder blinking red.
“You may have heard our legends twisted,” Camila continued. “But I will tell you the truth—not as a Luna, but as a sister, a woman, and a survivor.”

A heavy stillness settled as her eyes lifted toward the hovering lights.
 “Everything began with Caroline—my twin sister.”

A collective murmur moved through the press, for everyone knew the name. The twin who once stood beside her, identical in face but opposite in soul.

Camila's eyes glistened—not from weakness, but from memory.

“Caroline was the cause of everything you see today—the reason for the scars, the wars, the unity, and even the child who now carries light into both packs.”

She folded her hands together. Her voice wavered for the first time.
“We shared a womb, but not a heart. Caroline was beautiful, fierce, and bold. But jealousy… jealousy poisoned her faster than any venom. I was betrothed to Alpha Michael of the Silver pack—a union arranged by our father, Commander Jack, to strengthen our alliances. I was content, ready to serve as Luna.”

Her throat tightened, and Marcus instinctively reached out, resting his hand over hers. She steadied herself and continued.
 “But Caroline wanted what I had. She wanted the power, the crown, the attention of the Alpha who was never hers.”

The air grew dense as her voice darkened.
“On the night of the marking ceremony, she did the unthinkable. She poisoned Michael’s drink so that he would lose control—so that he would see me in her. That night, she wore my scent, my perfume, my colors. And under the haze of her potion, he marked her instead.

Camila’s fingers trembled.
 “The entire pack believed it was fate. That the Moon Goddess had chosen her. No one believed my cries. I was mocked, shamed, cast aside—called cursed by the same wolves who had once bowed to me.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she smiled through it.
 “I ran that night. Into the forest. I thought I would die there.”

A hush fell. Even the camera crew had forgotten to move.
“I was weak, betrayed, and carrying a secret I had not yet told anyone—my child. Michael’s child.”

Marcus’s lips tightened, his hand still anchoring hers.
“I wandered until my legs gave out near the old Moonstone River. And there, when I thought my story was over… the Moon Goddess sent me another beginning.”

Her eyes softened as she turned toward Marcus.
 “He found me.”

Marcus looked down for a moment, but his thumb brushed her knuckles as though to remind her he was real. “He was a newly crowned Alpha then,” she continued. "The council was pressing him to choose a Luna. His father had just passed, and his pack needed an heir, a mother figure, a leader’s bond. But Marcus did not mark for power. He rescued for love.”

A ripple of emotion swept through the hall.

“He carried me from that forest—mud, tears, and all—and instead of asking questions, he offered shelter. He fed me. He let me rest. And when he found out about the child, he didn’t turn away. He told me, ‘A child born in pain is still a gift from the Goddess.’”

Her voice cracked at that line, and several reporters lowered their pens, too moved to write.

“I gave birth to Mark, my son, under the silver moon. He was born with the mark of both packs—the first child to carry such a gift. The healers whispered that the Goddess herself had touched his spirit.”

She paused, then lifted her eyes to the reporters.

“But my story is not about pity. It’s about truth. Caroline—my sister—was punished, not by me, but by her own choices. She lived the rest of her days in service, chained to the healers’ quarters after she was caught in adultery with a pack guard named Ludo.”

Her words grew firm now, not bitter but resolute.

“I forgave her before she died. Because that’s what the Goddess teaches us—to rise higher than the pain others caused. But I also swore I’d tell her story as a warning. The world must stop betraying blood.”

She straightened her back.

“We’ve seen siblings destroy families for power. We’ve seen fathers betray sons for thrones, and Alphas break their Lunas for pride. The curse isn’t in the moon—it’s in betrayal. That’s what we must heal.”

Marcus’s deep voice joined hers, yet filled with pride.

“And healing begins with truth,” he said. “When Camila came to me, I saw not a broken woman, but the true Luna of heart. I didn’t save her; she saved me—from a crown that had no soul.”

The reporters scribbled faster now, the emotion in the room heavy.

Camila turned back to the cameras.
 “If my sister were alive, I’d tell her this—‘We were born under the same moon, but we chose different reflections. May your spirit find peace in the light you once tried to dim.’”

She smiled then, the kind that carried peace after storms.
 “And to those who hear my voice today, remember this: the Goddess may forgive betrayal, but blood never forgets it. Protect your kin. Love without envy. Because every wound you cause within your own bloodline… weakens the pack’s heart.”

There was silence. Not even a camera click broke it.

Then, Marcus squeezed her hand and added, his tone rich with authority:
 “When I found her that night, I thought the Moonlight Pack had lost everything. But she reminded me that even in the darkest forests, the moon still shines. Camila became the mother of my people, not by bond mark, but by courage. And Mark—her son—became the symbol of what unity between packs can achieve.”

Camila glanced at him, a tear glimmering in her lashes.
 “The world can call him whatever it wants—half-blood, blessed child, miracle—but to me, he’s proof that love born from chaos can still heal a kingdom.”

She stood then, her gown flowing like liquid light. The reporters rose.
 “The Silver Pack and Moonlight Pack are one because we refused to let betrayal define us. That is my message. That is Caroline’s legacy, and mine.”

She looked straight into the camera lens.
 “Stop betraying your blood.”

A hush lingered before a round of applause filled the hall. The interview had ended, but no one moved.

Marcus stood beside her, their fingers intertwining.
 “The past has spoken,” he said, “and the future has listened.”

They walked together toward the doors, where the light of the full moon spilled through the glass. Reporters whispered among themselves, some wiping tears.

Outside, the twin moons—symbol of Silver and Moonlight—hung side by side. Camila looked up, whispering to herself, “Caroline… may you finally find your peace.”

And Marcus, hearing her, whispered back,
“And may our packs never forget the price of betrayal—or the strength of forgiveness.”

The cameras faded, the hall dimmed, and in that silence, a new chapter of peace was sealed—not written in ink, but in memory.