Alpha’s Secret Heir: The Hidden Blood Moon Luna

SELENA

~•~

I was upstairs, shoving my last few books into the corner of my bag, when Aunt Clara’s voice rang out for the third time.

“Selena! Are you ready yet? We’re going to be late!” she shouted from downstairs, her tone hovering somewhere between impatient and concerned.

I groaned under my breath, zipping up the bag with more force than necessary. “Almost!” I yelled back, knowing full well she wouldn’t consider “almost” a good enough answer.

“You’ve been ‘almost’ ready for twenty minutes!” she fired back.

I bit back a smile despite myself. Aunt Clara could be persistent when she wanted to be, and right now, she was in full-on mom mode. Tossing my hoodie over my shoulder, I stole a quick glance at the mirror on my dresser. My midnight-black hair shimmered under the sunlight streaming through the window, the silver streaks glinting like they were daring anyone to look away.

Grabbing the hoodie, I pulled it on, shoving the hood up over my head to cover the strands of silver. It wouldn’t make them disappear, but it would stop the staring—for a little while, at least.

“Selena!” Aunt Clara called again, her voice rising like she thought I might’ve forgotten she was down there.

“I’m coming!” I yelled as I grabbed my bag and bolted for the door. I took the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping on the last one. Aunt Clara was waiting in the living room, keys in hand and a frown etched across her face.

“You’re going to make us late,” she said, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder.

Her expression softened almost immediately. “You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

I hesitated, fingers tightening on the strap. “Yeah. Just… nervous, I guess.”

Aunt Clara’s eyes softened. She placed the keys down and walked over, resting a hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s hard,” she said gently. “But you’ll be fine, sweetheart. College is a fresh start. A chance to meet new people, try new things.”

“Or a chance for people to stare at me like I’m a freak,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

She sighed, her grip on my shoulder tightening. “Selena, you’re not a freak. You’re—”

“Different,” I cut her off, lifting my head to meet her eyes. “I know. You’ve said it a million times. But it doesn’t change the fact that people don’t know how to deal with… this.” I gestured toward my head, the silver streaks barely hidden beneath the hood.

“They don’t matter,” Aunt Clara said firmly. “You hear me? What they think doesn’t matter. You’re smart, you’re kind, and if they can’t see that, then that’s on them, not you.”

I wanted to believe her. I really did. But I’d heard it all before.

She sighed, brushing a strand of hair off my face. “Just give it a chance, okay? For me?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.”

“Good,” she said, grabbing the keys again. “Now, come on. Let’s get you to Ashwood before we’re both late.”

And with that, I followed her out the door, the pit in my stomach growing with each step closer to the car.

Aunt Clara drove at a careful speed until we got to Ashwood University where she dropped me off to begin my first day of college. As her car disappeared down the street—her hand waving out the window, my stomach dropped. That all-too-familiar feeling settled over me again, I was completely and utterly on my own. 

I stood there for a moment, tugging my hoodie tighter over my head. The weight of my bag pressed against my back, and I stuffed my hands into my hoodie pocket, willing myself to move forward.

The campus was busy with students walking in clusters or rushing to get wherever they needed to be, and conversations blended together in a dull hum, but I didn’t look around. I didn’t care to. My only focus was getting to the right lecture hall without drawing attention to myself.

That voice in my head whispered softly, as it always did, nudging me in the right direction. I’d been hearing it ever since I turned eight years old. Most people would call it a conscience, but I knew better. It wasn’t just my inner thoughts, it felt like someone else, someone connected to me in a way I couldn’t explain.

I found the lecture hall without much trouble—thanks to the voice—and standing outside the door, I took a deep breath and pulled the straps of my bag tighter. I didn’t want to do this. My fingers hesitated on the handle, but I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever.

The moment I stepped inside, all eyes turned toward me. My chest tightened, and I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. My instinct was to turn around and walk right back out, but the door had already shut behind me.

“Well, look who decided to join us, and late too,” the lecturer said, his tone light and dripping with sarcasm. “Come on in mystery girl, don’t be shy. Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

I froze, my pulse pounding in my ears. The last thing I wanted was to stand in front of the entire room, but I knew refusing would only make it worse.

I forced my legs to move, keeping my head down as I walked to the front of the room. The lecturer handed me the microphone with an amused grin, like this was all some kind of joke.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Let us know who you are.”

My grip on the microphone was shaky as I stared at the floor, trying to steady my voice.

“Um… I’m Selena Cross,” I said quietly, barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning.

“That’s it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “No fun facts? No hobbies to share?”

“No,” I said quickly, handing the microphone back.

“Fair enough,” he replied, waving me off. “Welcome to the class, Selena. You can take a seat now.”

As I turned to walk down the aisle, my senses picked up a faint whisper from the far end of the room.

“Oh my God,” the voice said. “That’s Selena Cross. I went to high school with her. She’s such a f*ck*ng creep.”

I didn’t have to look to know who it was. Faith Stevenson. Her voice was unmistakable, sharp and condescending.

“She seriously still wears that hoodie everywhere?” Faith continued, laughing with the girl next to her. “What a freak.”

My fists clenched inside my hoodie pocket. My steps faltered, but I forced myself to keep walking, my head still down. My heart was pounding, not just with anger but with anxiety. Faith had made my life a nightmare in high school, and now she was here, in my college class, picking up right where she left off.

I found an empty seat near the middle of the room and slid into it, keeping my hood up. I could still hear Faith laughing softly, her voice carrying despite the lecturer beginning to speak.

I stared at the blank page in my notebook, gripping my pen so hard my knuckles turned white. All I wanted was for this class to end. I needed to get out of here, away from this suffocating room where I was breathing the same air as Faith.

The thought of seeing my boyfriend Ken after this was the only thing keeping me grounded. He was the only one person who made my life feel even remotely normal. And as soon as this class was over, I was going to go him. I needed to breathe, and Ken was the only person who ever made that feel possible.

As soon as the class was over, I got out of the classroom and hailed a cab that was going to take me to Ken’s building. The cab ride was quick-five minutes, tops-but it felt like an eternity. My fingers hovered over my phone, rereading the text l'd sent Ken. "On my way, baby." He hadn't replied, but that wasn't unusual. I told myself he was probably busy.

When I stepped out of the cab and walked up to his front door, something immediately felt off. The door was slightly open, not enough to see inside, but enough to make my stomach twist. The flowerpot that was supposed to sit neatly by the door was knocked over, soil spilling onto the welcome mat.

I hesitated, my heart starting to race.

"Babe?" I called out softly, pushing the door open wider.

I stepped inside cautiously. The house was eerily quiet, but the mess in the living room told me someone had been here recently. I spotted a jacket draped over the back of a chair and a pair of shoes kicked off near the couch.

"Hello?" | tried again, louder this time.

Still no response.

When I reached the kitchen, I froze. The place was a disaster. Pots and pans were scattered on the floor, ingredients spilled across the counter, and two empty wine glasses sat side by side near the sink.

He's here, I thought. He has to be.

I sighed, deciding l'd help him clean up later. First, I just needed to see him. I locked the front door behind me, slipped off my hoodie and jeans, and tossed them onto the couch. The hoodie felt heavy in my hands, but I didn't want to carry it upstairs. We were finally going to do all those nasty things we talked about in our texts.

As I climbed the stairs, my heart pounded harder with each step. Something felt wrong, though I couldn't put my finger on it. My palms were clammy, and I had to wipe them on my shirt before I reached his bedroom door. It was open, just a crack enough for me to see the edge of the bed.

I pushed the door open.

And there he was.

Ken was naked and he wasn't alone.

Faith was beneath him, her nails digging into his back, her head tilted back as she let out loud, breathy moans, her voice ringing out in pure pleasure

I couldn't move. My brain refused to process what I was seeing and for a second, I felt like I was floating outside my own body, watching from a distance.

Ken turned his head, his face paling when he saw me standing there. "Selena," he stammered, scrambling to pull away from Faith.

Faith didn't even flinch. She just smirked, brushing her hair back casually as if she hadn't just been caught. "Well, this is awkward," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

I blinked, my body finally catching up to the moment. "What the hell is this?" My voice came out quiet, shaky.

"Selena, wait," Ken said, grabbing a blanket to cover himself. "I can explain—"

"Explain?" | interrupted, my voice rising.

"Explain what, Ken? That you're screwing her?" I pointed at Faith, who was now sitting up, completely unbothered.

Faith shrugged. "Oh, come on, Selena.

Don't act so surprised. Did you really think a weirdo like you could keep someone like Ken interested forever?"

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I turned to Ken, hoping—praying—that he'd defend me, that he'd say something to make this nightmare go away.

"Selena, please," he begged, taking a step toward me. "It's not what you think. I—I wasn't thinking straight-"

"Don't," I snapped, holding up a hand.

"Don't you dare try to justify this."

Faith laughed, low and mocking. "Guess he finally got tired of the freak show."

That was it.

Before I knew what I was doing, I lunged at her. My hands grabbed her shoulders, and with a strength I didn't know I had, I flung her across the room. She hit the wall with a thud, her smirk replaced by shock.

Ken shouted my name, but I didn't care. I didn't even look at him. I turned and ran out of the room, my vision blurred with tears.

I threw on my clothes and bolted out the door, not stopping until I was in the cab heading home.

The ride was quiet except for the sound of my own breathing. My tears were hot and relentless but I wiped them away furiously, refusing to let myself break down completely.

When I got home, my hands shook so badly that I fumbled my keys. It felt like forever before I managed to unlock the door. I stumbled inside, up the stairs, and into my room before collapsing onto my bed, letting the burning tears that I held in for so long spill over.

My phone buzzed. It was Ken: "Please come back Selena. Let's talk. I'm sorry."

I stared at the screen, my chest heaving with silent sobs. Then I blocked his number. "B*st*rd," I muttered.

That's when the voice came again, louder than ever before with an echo to it that made my head ring. "Go back to your roots. You'll find solace there."

I didn't know what got into me, but I found myself pack my suitcase immediately, shoving in the little collection of trousers and clothes I had.

Before I left, I sent Aunt Clara a text: 

"I'm going home. I’m going home to Silverpine Valley. I need to start over in a place where I actually belong."

SELENA 

~•~

The “Welcome to Silverpine Valley” sign came into view, and my stomach twisted. It wasn’t nerves—I didn’t get nervous like normal people. It was something else, like reality was sinking in all at once. I had no plan, no family waiting to greet me, no friends in town, just me and my bag of hastily packed belongings.

Even if I stayed in a motel tonight, I couldn’t keep hopping around. Silverpine wasn’t some tourist stop for me; it was my new life. I was here to stay and there was no going back to Ashwood. Ever.

My phone buzzed again in my lap, and I sighed. Aunt Clara. She’d been spamming me with messages since I left.

“Selena, tell me you’re joking!”

“Did something go wrong? We can talk about it!”

“What the hell were you thinking, leaving just like that?! It’s not safe in Silverpine!”

I put my phone on silent and shoved it into my pocket. What was her deal with Silverpine? Her