The Luna's Redemption

Your life never flashed before your eyes. Your heart has never been squeezed so hard that you could hear the sound of its shatter. Freya felt this and much more at that moment. Today was her long-awaited wedding, the wedding of the century; all the historians of the Vermillion pack would scribble it down that her wedding was the most splendid, most beautiful, most breathtaking, and most loving union ever, but that wishful thinking was slowly shattering before her red-rimmed eyes.

How did she get here? 

Only thirty minutes ago, she sat in the bridal room, and her best friend had stood behind her with a smile;

"The moon goddess indeed blesses you, Frey," Ophelia had whispered, her eyes trained at the mirror.

"You bet, Philly, you bet." Freya smiled sweetly into the mirror. She was donned in her white dress, dolled up before a mirror. The maidens had just added finishing touches to her bridal beautification, and as if they got the hint, they got the hint and left the two best friends alone in their hearty conversation.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Frey," Ophelia drew a deep breath as she carefully adjusted the hand of the home.

"You silly! I'm not leaving the pack; I'm just getting married to Silas.." Freya put her hand over her friend's, which was on her shoulder, in a comforting way.

"But you shall become Luna, and you will live in the tall pack palace halls, with more of pack members to care for, and to become the mother of the pack, you shall not be free to entertain the frivolities of girly gossip and picking of flowers any more." Ophelia smiled and leaned her jaw on the crook of Freya's neck.

Freya's eyes softened even more; she looked at both their reflection in the mirror before them, "You know I will never forget you; we will still share our little gossips and definitely pick flowers, I'll show you this garden I discovered after this wedding,"

"Whatever you say, let's get you married, shall we?"

Freya laughed heartily.

There was a knock immediately at the door, followed by a creek. A raven-haired girl shot her head through the door, " Sister, you have to make haste!"

"Yes, Ciri," Freya smiled at the other girl at the door.

"Come on, Cirila. Now that you are here help me get our bride to her groom." Ophelia winked at Cirila, who had already walked into the room and toward her sister.

You wouldn't know they were sisters if you didn't look so closely. Freya had silver and straight hair, and her facial features were ethereal yet kind, upright, and intriguing. Cirila, her younger sister by just a season, had raven black hair she got from their father. She had a coquettish and shy prettiness that contrasted Freya's proud and confident demeanor. 

"Of course," Cirila excitedly took Freya's hand and helped her get to her feet. 

"Sister, you look stunning, you really do," Cirila gushed.

"Oh stop it, Ciri, you flatter me."

Fast-forward to the ceremony, the big wedding held under the full moon, at the peak of the season, before every single Man-wolf of the pack. Freya stood at the elevated altar with Silas facing her directly, their hands in each other's.

Now, she was standing in front of the mate of her dreams, not the boy she played with because his mother and her mother were best friends, and they had been together since nappies. She didn't see the boy who helped her pack her head into a bun for the first time or the boy who helped her cover up her nakedness when she had turned into her soul form of a wolf for the first time under the full moon; she saw the man that she could spend her entire life with, the Alpha to her Luna, the father to her children, and most trusted man in her world— well except her father. 

She looked at his handsome and breathtaking face, the one she had trailed her fingers through at night, lost in wonder about his perfection, but he seemed tense.

Was he tense because he was nervous?

Nervous is good, and nervousness is romantic; it wasn't just her who was anxious then.

His jaw seemed to be ticking; he always did that when he was deep into his thoughts.

He must be thinking of their future together. She didn't know whether to feel proud since Silas was never nervous, but he was anxious for her.

The priestess held their hands under the full moon before the entire Vermillion pack, their parents, and their friends; she could see her best friend smiling wistfully at her. Her sister... well, she could not glimpse Cirila; where did she wander to? Anyway, her heart was filled with butterflies, so she held his hands tighter and flashed him a shy smile, but his smile was very forced, tight, and strained.

Then it hit.

Something was wrong. She was lovestruck, not shocked, and she knew Silas like the back of her palm. He had a charming smile and the most confident demeanor she had ever seen, yet he wasn't showing any sign of his usual self.

"Silas," she leaned closer to him, eyes shut, while the priestess said incantations. "Silas, are you good?" 

"Yes," His voice came off rough. Too rough and gruff, making her scrunch her nose invisibly.

"Mhh." She nodded and leaned away. She'd ask him when the ceremony was over.

The priestess seized her incantations and sharply opened her eyes, flicking them in Silas' direction. "You may take the oath under the heavens and before the people."

Butterflies erupted in Freya's stomach. This was the moment of her dreams, the moment she had waited for so long. They would take their vows beneath the moon, under the watchful eyes of Goddess Selena.

Silence.

Utter silence.

Silas stood stoic, his jaw ticking away. Ticking jaws. Silas did that when he was deep in his thoughts and conflicted.

She rubbed his hands softly against hers; maybe this was too overwhelming for him. Silas was never overwhelmed. She knew him like the back of her palm; he was Decisive, bold, calm, and kind. He was a walking box of overflowing confidence.  

They had figured that they were mates three years ago when she had just turned eighteen, and Silas had been so happy. Their bond had been so strong, and this was only to cement their relationship and make it easy for him to ascend the throne as Alpha instead of leading as an Alpha Prince. 

Still silence.

The silence was so threatening that even the pack members began to whisper. Freya could see their unsettled frenzy element. They had started to whisper among themselves. A great trepidation crawled up her back as she looked expectantly at Silas.

She was very sure now that there had to be something wrong. She had noticed that Silas had been 'not himself for six nights.' He had been lost in thought and a little bit cranky. He usually told her what went wrong, but he did not open up to her this time, so she felt he would come around.

But today? What was worrying him must have been so serious that he couldn't concentrate on their wedding. Was he spacing out? Why?

Was the pack facing strong opposition?

Where are the members of the council on his neck?

"I, Silas Creek, Alpha Prince  of Vermillion pack, do reject you, Freya Lancaster as my mate, I swear this by the breath of the goddess of the moon, our eternal mother and protector, Selena."

Finally, he did speak—

What?

How? Impossible!

Freya finally registered his words; at the drop of his oath, there was a loud clap of thunder across the sky and a wild eruption of noise among the crowd. It was utter chaos.

"You..." Her voice trailed as pain punched heavily on her gut. Her hands slipped away from his, and she staggered back, clutching her chest. Her ears were bleeding, her nose and her eyes poured painful streaks of blood down her face. Her chest felt like a thousand daggers had stabbed it. She immediately clutched her chest.

"I'm sorry, Freya, I love you,but I have an heir already. Cirila is pregnant with our child."

Freya fell that instant. Dumbstruck! Cirila? This must have been a joke, but finally, she knew her mate was losing it.

"What's this joke, Silas?" Her voice came out like a whisper, too shaky and scared. "And Don't you dare bring in my sister!"

The audacity. He could play a prank on her, but bringing her sister into it was a sick joke she wouldn't tolerate. She was protective of her sister, whom he knew so well.

"Silas, stop!" A meek and shy voice that Freya could identify, even if she was deaf, spoke loudly at the arena.

Freya turned slowly to the girl running up to the altar of matrimony. 

Cirila.

Cirila 

Freya had never felt so relieved to hear her sister's voice. She didn't entertain the thought of what Silas said being the truth, but it didn't mean she was not scared of the possibility. 

Her loving and shy sister would never betray her like that; why would she even think that?

"No, Ciri, I can't hide it anymore, we can't!" Silas' eyes softened. In a vulnerable way. The way she had seen before, the most intimate way. 

Freya stood still.

Silas was only Vulnerable before her and always saw Ciri as a younger sister... Right?

"Please," Cirila cried now as she held his hands in a way that seemed out of habit.

Her mate's hands.

"Cirila—" Freya's voice hitched. 

"Sister," Cirila's eyes widened with innocence. She hurried towards Freya with her eyes red like a wounded rabbit's. 

"Sister, it was a mistake..."

Her head exploded.

Freya refused to think. She refused.

"... Sister, who knew I would get pregnant, but I don't plan on keeping the pregnancy, sister, I will do that for you!"

Freya pushed Cirila's hand away from hers and staggered back in disbelief.

"Ahhh." Cirila fell to the ground at the prying of her hand.

"Freya, why are you malicious?!" Silas hurried towards Cirila and helped her up carefully. 

Freya's eyes widened in disbelief. She had just watched her sister push herself to the ground after she pried her hand from hers.

"I didn't..." Freya started, "I know you are angry, but I was the one who made her do it, I was the one who seduced her, it is me you should be angry at! She even begged me to go on with the marriage for your sake even after finding out about our baby, yet you treat her this way?" Silas scolded.

Freya had never been so flabbergasted in her entire existence. She hadn't even processed what was happening; things were moving too fast.

"No, it's not Sister's fault, it's mine, I shouldn't have..." Cirila cried out.

"No, you shouldn't apologize for our love, Cirila; I'll sort this out for you and our baby."Silas held Cirila in his embrace like she would break any moment, and he then turned to Freya, who had stood still since the chaos.

"Please, let us go. I love you so much, but as a friend, Cirila made me discover this. I have deeper feelings for her, and by the goddess, I tried to kill it, but here we are. Maybe the moon was wrong about this match. 

I am now a father, and you always told me to take responsibility for my actions. This is me taking responsibility." 

Disgust slid through Freya's veins, along with disbelief. The scandal was already causing a big uproar in the pack. The murmurs and exclamations were loud enough.

"What is happening here, son?" She heard Alpha King Gérald's voice thunder as he walked towards the altar of matrimony, and she heard footsteps approaching her. She also saw her mother and father approaching the altar, as did Ophelia and ...

Chaotic.

Everything sounded very chaotic.

"Father..." She couldn't hear the rest of Silas's words to his father because the voices became distant. She could feel the thick, warm wetness of blood trickle down her ears instead. 

The rejection curse was taking place.

She could hear the Priestess' voice rise in high tempo in the distance.

She heard voices hovering over her head—her mother, her father, her best friend, and her other friends. Were they calling out to her? She didn't know. All she could think of was her mate's voice when he rejected her a moment ago, her sister's teary face, and the uproar of the pack members below.

Why was Cirila behaving weirdly? Why was she biting her lip so pitiful? 

This was a nightmare, a prank she hoped was going to end. She could swear on her life that it wasn't real. He loved her; he told her so. They had spent most of their lives together; she could not believe he would betray her. A child? An heir? Cirila! Cirila confused her; what was Cirila saying? Was she having an affair with Silas?

Were they in love?

Love?

Now, it made sense; it all made sense. The floral scent a few times, the over-friendliness he exhibited towards Cirila when he visited her parents' cabin with her, he had always regarded Cirila from a distance before; she only thought he was already assuming the role of a brother to Cirila. Even when she had always been in pain on most nights in the few seasons, she had told him about the scorching pain that woke her at night due to their bond; he had lied that it was normal. But it wasn't.

She was in pain on the nights Cirila was curled up daintily in his arms because he was trashing their bond.

Cirila was pregnant.

A scornful laugh erupted in the air. It was hers. She flipped her blurry eyes open and mustered strength from her rage to get up.

And she shakily did.

Rejection always ruined the rejected; It could cripple them or, worse of all, kill them, and Silas knew so well. The curse was always very dangerous.

"I, Freya Lancaster, of the Vermillion pack accept your rejection, under the oath of the goddess of the moon." She spat out. 

Under the bright moon, Freya lost her balance. Under the bright moon, she saw Silas' stoic and indifferent face. She saw Cirila rush into his arms, the field meant for their wedding in a frenzy. It all made sense to her at that very moment. She thought she was planning a wedding with her loved one beneath the full moon, but he was planning a rejection party under the full moon because a rejection could only be done under the full moon.

She refused to think of Cirila; it would break her to think of the possibilities. Had they laughed at her behind her back? Cirila must have thought about her stupidity when she saw her in her wedding dress, which was already dyed red with her blood.

She refused to think of Cirila.

Her eyes rolled back, and her body gave way; a single bloody tear rolled down her eyes.

She heard screams of her name, but they felt distant until it was pitch black. 

A loud, painful howl resounded around the Vermillion pack that faithful night, and it was the cry of a wounded werewolf. 

Later on, Freya flipped her eyes open but shut them immediately due to the sharp light that hit her eyes.

She hissed in pain when she tried to get up.

Her body felt like she had been thrown repeatedly at a tree; she felt highly sore all over her head... She felt it throb painfully.

"Easy there, Frey. "She heard a soft voice—her best friend. 

She moaned painfully but opened her eyes slowly and carefully this time. "Ophelia"

Her voice came out as a crooked and scratchy whisper. Her throat felt patched up and swollen.

"Easy there." Ophelia held Freya's arm, helping her sit up. "You are still weak."

"What happened?" Freya touched her head and asked. She looked around her, which was strange, albeit. "And where is this? Am I dreaming?"

Ophelia smiled calmly, "one question at a time."

"My body feels so sore all over, it hurts so bad, and... How did I get here? I can't recall— " Freya hissed painfully.

"Don't stress it Frey" Ophelia rushed to her side and supported her against the bed frame.

Ophelia searched her friend's face for any trace of pain, anger, or realization, but there was nothing but a blank and lost look, coupled with the body pain she felt.

"Don't worry about what happened yesterday; Elena and Garvin are taking care of it," Ophelia carefully said, testing the waters.

"What happened?" Freya scrunched her brows.

Ophelia's eyes widened for a millisecond, but she covered it up immediately; Elena was right after all.

"Not to worry. I will tell you, but for now, I shall get you some water. You must be really thirsty," Ophelia pecked the crown of Freya's head softly. "Oh," Freya nodded.

Ophelia gave Freya one last careful look before leaving the room. She shut the door tightly behind her and turned to face the anxious group of people outside.

If Freya had been here to see the stunning middle-aged woman with green eyes and silver hair and the tall raven-haired man standing beside her, she would have known they were her parents.

"She is awake, but she remembers nothing," Ophelia sighed. She remembers us but has no recollection of him, like she had wiped him out of her memory.

"Oh, my dear cub, poor child." The silver-haired woman sniffed into the man's chest.

"I'm going to make that good for nothing pay for what he did to our daughters!" The man's voice was resolute.

"Garvin, you have to calm down," Elena cooed.

"You were right, Elena; we shall go with the idea. She would appreciate the change of environment as soon as possible; she will remember on her terms, but if she never remembers, then all the better.

After she had passed out in unconsciousness, she had assumed her wolf form and had howled so painfully that it resounded, but she was too wounded and paralyzed. The Priestess said she was in shock.

She had whimpered painfully as her loved ones rushed her to see a physician, but they only had to go outside the pack to find the right elixir for her. She may never be able to summon her soul form (which is the wolf form). 

The Priestess they had met had only nodded and said she was an injured one. Her mind was in shock; she couldn't process what had happened. It was a miracle that she was awake even. 

Ophelia wished to hide her best friend away from any more harm there could be. 

"Thank you, child," Elena said, holding Ophelia's hand softly.

"It's nothing; she is my friend." Ophelia sniffed back the tears that had been threatening to fall since she had left the room.

"I'll get her some water and call the priestess," Ophelia said.

Elena nodded, "Very well."

……….

"Mother, Father." Freya saw the two middle-aged people walk into the room and immediately recognized them.

 

"My sweetest Cub," Elena rushed towards her daughter. While Garvin stood silently by the side, his bloodshot eyes indicated care. 

"Mother, why am I here in this strange place? What happened? Ophelia won't tell me," Freya inquired. She wondered why she couldn't remember anything. Her memory was very hazy and cloudy, but she surprisingly felt empty and sad inside. She didn't like the feeling at all. Besides, she had a few injuries around her body. How come?

"Freya, your soul went berserk during the full moon. Your wolf was injured so we had to take you to a priestess outside Vermillion pack. You shall be fine soon."

What?

Berserk? Freya wondered. She remembered cultivating the strengths of her soul, which formed somewhere in her memory. She must have pushed past her limit when she was practicing.

Makes sense.

Ophelia reappeared into the room with a jug of water, which she poured into a cup. Elena had fed Freya.

After a few hours, her parents left the cabin, saying that the Priestess had told her to seclude her for recuperation, which was why she couldn't come home immediately.

It was just that she and Ophelia finally left the cabin.

"Philly," Freya called out to Ophelia, who was busy painting away on a makeshift table.

"Hmm?" Ophelia turned to face her best friend, concern, and guilt etched in her voice.

"What happened?" I can tell that you are lying to me. You haven't looked me in the eyes since I woke up. Mother is lying, too. Her eyes were guilty, and she was rambling. Dad didn't speak. He is too frank to even lie," Freya asked.

Ophelia sighed. "How can I forget that you are too observant for your own good?"

Freya sighed. "I can't recall why I'm here, but then I couldn't have gone berserk, I know it in my core, something bad happened. I feel sad, I feel empty, like my heart is ripped out. Did any one die? Tell me."

She really didn't feel good emotionally. 

"I can't, you have to remember it yourself and frankly I don't want you to." Ophelia sighed.

She had been sighing a lot of late.