The Luna's Rejection

The floor felt as rough as gravel under my palms, and the chill seeped into my skin. Above, the storm whipped through the night, its roaring winds rattling the windows. Outside, bolts of lightning crashed against the backdrop of a full moon, bathing the room in flashes of eerie light.

I wasn’t any ordinary werewolf, helpless under a full moon. I had the rare strength to control my shifting, bending the transformation to my will. Yet, for all my power, I was still locked away in this house, ruled by a cruel father and a vicious sister.

The door suddenly burst open, and my sister, Elena, stormed in. Her face twisted with disdain as she threw down a bowl and a candle onto a nearby table. “Happy birthday,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

My ribs felt like they were being crushed. My heart pounded, fast and frantic, every beat pulsing with the fear coursing through me. I held my breath as my father appeared in the doorway behind her, his eyes blazing. “How many times have I told you to stay away from that table?” he shouted.

But it wasn’t about the table. It was never about the table. His hatred for me was rooted in something far deeper, something that had festered ever since my mother’s death the day I was born.

“I didn’t take her life,” I whispered through my tears, the fear making my voice crack. I could feel his rage simmering, ready to spill over. My muscles tightened, bracing for the worst.

“Don’t talk back!” he yelled, and his fist swung hard across my face. The impact sent me to the ground, the floor scraping painfully against my hand as I struggled to rise.

Blood seeped from my lip as he continued his tirade. “You’re worthless! My love is dead because of you, and I’ll never forgive you for it!” His words hit as hard as his fists, but before I could fully absorb them, he grabbed his mug and hurled it at me. The hot liquid scorched my skin as it shattered against my cheek.

Through my blurred vision, I saw him walk away, calling for a maid. When she arrived, there was no kindness, only indifference as she yanked me to my feet, ignoring my muffled cries.

“You insufferable brat! Now I have even more work to do!” she hissed, her grip rough and unforgiving. There wasn’t a soul in this house who cared if I suffered.

As I lay there afterward, weak from the blows, my tears spilled over. Despite my vow to stay strong, I couldn’t hold them back. This was my life: a prison of hatred, bruises, and empty silence.

**************************When I finally woke, pain throbbed across my head like a drum. I opened my eyes slowly, taking in the faint light filtering through my room. Groaning, I raised a shaky hand to my forehead, clenching my teeth as I tried to sit up. The clock on the wall showed it was already evening.

A bitter taste lingered in my mouth, and my face still stung from yesterday’s scalding attack. I glanced down to find myself in clean clothes, although I didn’t remember changing. My stomach twisted with hunger, my last meal a fading memory. The door creaked open, and Elena sauntered in, carrying a tray with a pleased smile.

I sighed internally, dreading whatever trick she had planned this time. I could smell the aroma of food wafting toward me, rich and inviting, making my stomach clench even tighter. Was she actually bringing me something to eat?

“Look at you, looking so helpless after fainting. You had me *so* worried, you know?” Her face morphed into an exaggerated expression of sympathy as she set the tray on the bed.

I looked at the plate: a generous serving of spaghetti and meatballs. I hadn’t had anything like it in ages. I glanced up at Elena, suspicious but desperate.

“Oh, come on, I wouldn’t hurt you on your birthday, would I?” She gave a deceptively sweet smile, watching me closely.

With a sigh, I reached for the fork, hesitating before taking a bite of the fragrant spaghetti. I looked back at Elena one last time, but her face remained serene, so I put the bite in my mouth.

The moment I tasted it, I coughed, spitting the pasta back out. My throat felt like it was on fire, the wolfsbane burning as it scraped down my tongue. Elena’s laughter filled the room, a high-pitched cackle that echoed off the walls.

I gagged, trying to breathe as the wolfsbane seared my throat. Desperate, I grabbed the water from the tray, but the pain only intensified as I realized she’d spiked that too.

“You witch!” I coughed, the words slipping out between gasps. I saw her smirk, eyes narrowing as she looked at her stained dress.

“How dare you ruin my clothes after the lovely meal I made for you!” she shrieked, lifting the plate and hurling its contents at my face. The tainted water followed, scalding my skin as it soaked through my shirt.

I screamed in pain, clutching my face as the burns intensified. Elena’s cruel sneer was the last thing I saw before she stalked out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

“Nina! Nina!” she called mockingly, her voice fading.

The room fell silent, and my tears came in a rush. Painfully, I looked down at my skin, now red and burning. For a moment, I sat there, holding back sobs. They ruined every one of my birthdays, each one more miserable than the last.

Moments later, Nadia, the only maid who sometimes showed me kindness, appeared in the doorway. Her eyes flickered with sympathy as she took in the disaster around me. But even she had to be cautious, her kindness hidden when my father or Elena was near.

“There’s some food tucked away in the back cupboard, bottom left,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder. I gave her a grateful nod and started to move past her, but she stopped me, her hand light on my shoulder.

“Get yourself cleaned up, and don’t waste time. Your father’s expecting you to fight in the pack contest tonight,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She knew well that even whispers could carry in a house full of werewolves.

Nodding, I moved down the hall, keeping to the shadows, hoping to avoid both Elena and my father. My clothes were stained and soaked, but hunger gnawed at me relentlessly. In the kitchen, the other servants cast disdainful glances my way as I approached the cupboard Nadia had mentioned.

Just as I reached it, one maid “accidentally” bumped me aside, causing me to stagger. I caught myself on the counter, but another servant swung her knife dangerously close to my hand. Instinctively, I jerked back, losing my balance and hitting the floor as they all snickered around me.

Humiliated, I forced myself up and opened the cupboard, pulling out a plate of cold, leftover spaghetti. I stayed crouched by the cupboard, shoveling bites into my mouth as fast as I could. Right now, this food was all that kept me from collapsing.

I had barely finished when my father’s bellow echoed through the halls. “Nina!” His voice was thunderous, each syllable like a warning shot.

“Nina!” he yelled again, his footsteps heavy as he approached. My heart raced as he appeared in the doorway, glaring at me with burning eyes.

What had I done this time?

My father stalked into the kitchen, fury blazing in his eyes. The room went still; every maid fell silent, not daring to draw his attention. His gaze landed on me, scanning my torn, stained clothes, his expression twisting in disgust.

“What are you wearing?” he demanded, his voice slicing through the silence.

“I…I…” My words caught in my throat, my mind scrambling for an answer.

“The pack contest starts soon, and you will be competing,” he snapped, barely masking his disdain. Nadia had warned me, but I could hardly stand, let alone fight. How was I supposed to participate in my current state?

“But I didn’t know—” I managed to stammer, but he was on me in an instant, his hand swinging and slapping me hard across the cheek. My head spun, and I caught myself on the sink, gripping its edge to keep from falling.

“Never talk back!” he roared, his voice echoing through the kitchen