Naomi Reborn: the Luna's Vow

Tonight, the trees were swathed in silver light, and long, windblown shadows danced across the moonlit forest. Naomi Carter watched from the edge of Crystal Blue Pack's ceremony grounds, a long white cloak trailing behind her like a shroud of eerie fog. Tonight was Luna Moon. A special night when the moon goddess bestowed her blessing on the Luna spirit. At night she should have felt powerful. Naomi felt... cold. She clasped her hands and adjusted the quaking tinge, not the autumn night at the end of the crowd; just unforgiving eyes.

Where once they were devoted, they were now judgmental; where trust and loyalty now snaked suspicion. She has yet to grant her Alpha an heir. Perhaps the Moon Goddess is reprimanding her. A fierce Luna would have been preferable. Naomi's heart twisted at the last remark. Violent. Her best friend since childhood. The one who had been at her side as her mother and father died. The one who had laughed with her as they prepared for mating night. The one who now lay outfit-fit in a purple gown, her hand languidly wrapped around Damian's arm. That's my husband, Naomi thought with a snarl before smiling and gliding toward their direction. Damian didn't look at her. He was still standing tall and proud, but his lips were firm, his gaze disconnected. His eyes, the storm-tossed seas that had once been filled with so much adoration, were now... empty. "Naomi," he breathed, a twinge of disbelief morphing his expression. "My Alpha," Naomi said, trusting her voice steady.

Violent stepped forward, a sugary smile on her lips far too saccharine to be genuine.

"You look... pale," she said. "You OK, are you ready for tonight?"

"I was born ready," Naomi said, meeting her gaze. I see you, Violent. And I'll remember this.

She turned and made her way toward the stone altar in the center of the grounds. The moon was nearly at its zenith. The ceremony had to begin.

The pack circled around her. Their howls quieted. The Elder advanced with the cup silver, inscribed with old runes and extended it to Naomi.

"Drink, Luna," he said.

She picked it up with steady hands. She drank.

The potion tasted bitter wolf's bane, sage, bloodroot. It scorched her throat like flame and ice. She swallowed hard and bent her head down, anticipating the Goddess's warmth to encircle her like every Luna Moon prior.

But this time... nothing came.

A peculiar ache unfurled in her chest. Her vision blurred. Her knees buckled.

Then came the smell sickly sweet and acrid, like iron and decaying flowers.

Poison.

Naomi's body fell on the stone, her hands clawing at the cold earth. She looked up.

Damian didn't move. Not even a twitch.

But Violent smiled.

No. No, no...

Naomi cried out, pain tearing through her like talons.

"Damian..." she whispered.

He looked away.

Naomi's heart broke wide open. The betrayal. The silence. The truth.

She was dying.

A sob slipped from her lips; darkness tugged at the edges of her mind.

So this was the ending of her story?

Alone. Forgotten. Replaced.

No.

Not like this.

Her vision blurred, but in the final glimmer of moonlight she glimpsed her wolf gray and brown, fragile, bleeding at the feet of a blinding figure of light.

The Moon Goddess.

Do you still want to do battle, little one? the Goddess's voice echoed.

Naomi reached out with all that remained.

Yes.

The Goddess smiled.

Then rise again not as you were but as what you must become.

The universe erupted into stars.

Naomi awoke to the ash on her tongue.

Air flooded into her lungs, like shards of glass, alien and sharp. She coughed violently, her body shivering into hard, cold earth. Her sight faded dirt and grass, jagged tree shapes, the silver streak of dawn. But it wasn't her forest.

She wasn't in Crystal Blue territory now.

She was no longer ... Naomi Carter.

Panic flooded her chest as she struggled upright, each motion foreign, alien. She had longer limbs, tanner skin. Her fingers were calloused, raw. She touched her face - her jaw was sharper, her lips fuller, her hair a mass of black waves instead of soft auburn curls.

She ran for the nearby river, tripping barefoot over rocks and roots, wincing at the burn in her legs. When she got to the water, she sank to her knees.

And screamed.

The reflection looking back was not hers.

Wide amber eyes. A scar beneath her left cheekbone. Sunken cheeks. And rage rage that blazed so hot in the stranger's eyes that it almost smothered her.

"This is not me," Naomi whispered, her voice hoarse, deeper than she remembered. "This isn't my body..."

Memories started bleeding in memories that weren't hers. Running. Hiding. Hands that were dragging her along through mud. Screams in the night. Fire. Blood.

Miler, a voice sounding dimly in her memory.

In this lifeless body was one that called itself Miler. A rogue. A nobody. Someone that the world had forgotten about. And now Naomi had replaced her.

The Moon Goddess didn't save me... she gave me a second chance.

A second chance-to make the wrongs right. To expose violence. To reclaim what was hers.

As the first light of morning broke over the trees, the moonlight-glossed sheet of water rippled with Naomi's reflection. Her old life was gone. Her pack had fucking turned their backs. Damian... had let her die.

And then something within her hardened.

Let them think she was dead.

Let Violent wear the crown.

She would rise out of the ashes and set it all on fire."

The rustle of leaves broke her thoughts.

She sprang to her feet, heart pounding. Her new body was weak pooped. She couldn't shift, not yet. Her wolf sensed... caged, confused, a part of it also not comprehending what she had done.

Another rustle. Then footsteps.

"Easy," a deep voice boomed. "I'm not here to hurt you."

A tall man emerged from the trees. Dark blond hair, tousled. And broad shoulders, in a leather jacket. And then his smell washed over her earthy pine and storm clouds. Powerful. Alpha blood.

Naomi tensed.

He held up both hands. "You're bleeding. I watched you crumple by the river. I came to help."

Naomi's eyes narrowed. "I don't need help."

"You're limping. And your eyes keep darting like prey," he said, crouching several feet away. "So yeah you do."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the dizziness came back. Her vision tilted.

The man stepped forward to catch her just in time.

Her instinct screamed to push him off of her, but her body had hit its limit. Her arms went slack.

"I have you," he said quietly, his voice an odd solace.

Naomi didn't want comfort. She wanted revenge.

But she needed strength more right now.

When she next woke, it was to the smell of smoke and herbs.

She was sprawled on a cot in a wooden cabin. The room was small, but it was warm, and pelts covered the walls, and jars full of herbs and powders lined a shelf.

The Alpha sat watching her in silence, arms crossed.

"You sleep as man who is running from something," he said, not taking his eyes off me.

She sat up, painfully, and her body hurt. "What gave me away?"

"Your nightmares." He got up and crossed the room, putting a steaming mug of tea down on the side table. "Name?"

She hesitated. Naomi Carter was dead.

"...Miler," she said finally. It was the truth now. The only truth she had.

The Alpha nodded. "Alex. Alpha of Golden Ash."

Her heart skipped. She'd heard of him. A warrior pack. Fierce. Untamed. The type of Alpha that slashed out with instinct and iron.

"I'm sorry, but why were you near our borders?" he asked.

"I don't remember," she lied.

He studied her. "You're different from other rogues. You don't smell of death or madness."

"I'm not like other rogues," she said softly, before adding, "Thank you. For helping me."

Alex gave a small nod. "You can stay. For now. But no secrets. In this pack, secrets will get you killed."

Naomi looked at him, steadiness in her voice. "I've already died once."