Rejected By The Luna's Twisted Virtue

My elder sister, Luna Estelle Adams, prided herself on her independence. She never begged for anything, least of all from a man.

When my brother Fletcher was falsely accused and imprisoned, my father went to the Lake Jade Packhouse, pleading with her to use her position to advocate for his release before Alpha Edward Castillo. But she stood there, righteous and unyielding, her voice cold and detached.

"A wolf must have pride," she said, her chin lifted high. "We should never stoop to begging. If Fletcher is innocent, the Alpha will release him. Justice will prevail."

When Miley Powell, the Delta, forced me to kneel for hours, causing me to lose my unborn child, I begged Estelle to intervene, to demand justice. But she simply shook her head, her expression distant and unfeeling.

"A wolf must stand on their own," she said, her voice calm but firm. "You are your own wolf before you are a mother. How can you fall apart over the loss of a pup? Be strong, Gwendolyn."

Later, when the Alpha demoted her to Omega and confined her to the Rogue’s Den, she knelt before me, tears streaming down her face, begging me to save her.

I fiddled with the silver bracelet on my wrist, my expression calm and detached, just as she had once been.

"But sister," I said softly, my voice carrying a hint of mockery, "didn’t you always say that a wolf must be independent? That she should never rely on another wolf?"

---

My elder sister, Estelle, was a paragon of self-righteousness. Not only did she refuse to vie for the Alpha’s favor, but she also constantly lectured me about it.

In her eyes, seeking the Alpha’s attention was akin to begging. She never begged, not even from the Alpha. She believed her time was better spent "realizing her own worth."

"A wolf must never depend on another wolf," she would say, her voice firm and unwavering. "Even if that wolf is the Alpha, we must always remember to stay true to ourselves. Seeking attention is beneath us, Gwendolyn. It’s degrading."

"Don’t you dare imitate those other Deltas and Gammas, always scheming and competing for the Alpha’s favor. It’s disgraceful."

But she was the Luna, the highest-ranking female in the pack, while I was just a lowly Gamma. She didn’t need to fight for survival—everything was handed to her. She didn’t understand what it was like for the rest of us.

If she wouldn’t help me, I had no choice but to seek the Alpha’s favor myself. Without his protection, how could I survive in this cutthroat pack?

Estelle had always had it easy. A word from our father, Antonio Porter, and she was named Luna without lifting a paw. But not everyone was so fortunate.

Like in my past life, when I was framed and had no way to defend myself.

Now, as the other Deltas and Gammas left after their daily report to the Luna, she ordered me to stay behind, kneeling on the cold floor as she delivered yet another lecture.

Her familiar words echoed in my ears.

I placed a hand on my still-flat stomach and immediately realized—I had been reborn. Reborn to the time before Fletcher was imprisoned, before I lost my pup, before my father died of heartbreak.

Everything could be changed now.

When she started her usual spiel about independence and self-worth, I didn’t argue as I had in my past life. Instead, I nodded along, agreeing with her.

"You’re absolutely right, sister," I said, my voice sincere. "In this pack, you’re the only one who truly understands what it means to be independent. The others are so shallow, always scrambling for the Alpha’s attention."

Her eyes lit up at my words, a rare smile gracing her lips.

"Finally, you understand," she said, her voice warm with approval. "I’m glad my words haven’t been in vain. You may rise now, Gwendolyn. Go back to your duties."

"Yes, sister," I said obediently, rising to my feet and bowing my head in respect.

If only I had known how easy it was to placate her in my past life, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time trying to make her see reason.