The Loathed Luna: A Sister's Substitute

KATARINA “What the hell!” The shriek tore through the room just as I stumbled into my husband’s bedroom, and everything inside my chest collapsed at the sight that welcomed me--my right-hand woman, my confidant… my friend, in my husband’s bed with the sheets tangled around her bare legs, her hair wild. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe as my organs rushed to my throat. “Wha-wha-t” My words tripped over each other as I staggered forward. “What's going on? Why are you here? Why are you in my husband’s bed? WHAT IS THIS?” The answer was obvious as my eyes darted around the room, but I couldn't let myself believe it. Her clothes lay strewn all over the room, undergarments tangled and scattered as though I had walked in after a reunion between two long-lost lovers. My stomach clenched so hard I thought I might be sick. And her eyes found mine, resentful as they held them before laughter spilled from her lips, just as cruel and mocking. Spitting coldly, she asked. “What does it look like I’m doing?” Before adding. “I just finished sucking your husband's d**k. I swallowed too, if you must know.” My hands flew to my stomach, memories crashing into me all at once--our memories. I recalled her whispered reassurances when I’d been pouring my heart out to her about my marital problems--how I never wanted to discuss my marriage until she kept assuring me that I could trust her, that she was on my side, that she cared. I remembered the nights she sat beside me, telling me I wasn’t alone, but all along she was sleeping with him behind my back. My vision blurred as I stumbled backward, my pulse roaring in my ears. And just then she spoke again, snapping the thread holding me together. “Oh, please don't act so innocent! You're f*****g his brother too! You're the disgusting whore.” “You sick b***h!” I screamed. “You pretended to be my friend! I trusted you!” I didn’t remember crossing the room. One moment I stood frozen, the next I was on the bed, throwing myself at her, rage tearing out of my chest. “Get off me!” she shrieked. “You stupid w***e! Who the f**k do you think you are laying hands on me?” We spilled off the bed in a violent tangle of thrashing arms and legs and hit the floor hard. But I barely felt the impact, determined to gouge her eyes out before rough hands seized me from behind. I was yanked back so violently my body slammed into the opposite wall, and stars exploded across my vision. The room dissolved into chaos, her screaming, words spilling from her mouth about how I knew exactly what I was--how I needed to remember my place, and how my husband needed to put me in my place. But her voice came and went. I was floating somewhere far away until a blow to the face sent me falling on my side. Pain cracked across my face, blinding as I crumpled to the floor with a gasp before warmth slid down my neck… blood. Hands fisted into my collar, dragging me upright… my husband’s hands. His face twisted with fury as he screamed down at me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His grip tightened. “How dare you lay hands on my mate!” My mate… the words echoed inside my skull, hollow and so cruel I didn’t even register the impact as he threw me to the floor like I was nothing. The dizziness returned in waves as I tried to crawl back up, and I barely heard him yelling for help, even as his voice boomed through the room. The next thing I felt were softer hands on my back, trembling and desperate, before a voice just as desperate followed. “Come, Luna. Please,” the old woman pleaded. “Come with me.” But my rage wasn’t over, and I tore myself away from her, lunging forward again as I screamed his name, demanding answers, and asking him what I had ever done to deserve this. Why did he hate me so much? Why would he do this to me? “I never asked for my bloodline! The gods made me what I am! Why do you punish me, Greyson Thornfield?!” But he shoved me away. “Get her out,” he snapped. “Now!” he turned to the old woman. “Get her out before I lose it.” The old woman clung to me, crying now as she begged, “Please, Luna. Think of the baby.” “Stop calling me that!” I screamed, thrashing against her hold. “I’m not your Luna! I never was!” My throat tore as the words spilled out of me. “Just end it! Take my life so you can be free!” I tried to run back to him, but the guards rushed in, and their hands seized me from all directions, lifting me off the floor as I screamed his name. He didn’t look at me, and he didn’t say a word as he slammed the door shut, leaving me to bleed to death. And even through the thick wood, I swore I could hear the sound of his disgust. I collapsed in the guard’s hands, looking up at the gods who cursed me. “Please kill me. Please!”