The Scarred Luna: Taming The Ruthless Alpha

JASELYA'S POV

"Brainless idiot" Luna Marilyne's voice cracked like a whip through the air.

Before I could even react, her hand slammed across my face with such force that my legs gave way. The ground slammed into my knees, then my shoulder.

A searing heat spread across my cheek. Trembling, I brought my fingers to the struck skin; it was still quivering from the blow.

No explanation was needed. This mark would stay visible for a long time.

"Useless creature!" She threw the words down at me, towering over me. "What exactly are you capable of?"

With painful effort, I gathered my strength to stand up. My palms pressed into the dust before I settled into a crouching bow of total humiliation before her. My entire body was shaking.

I lifted my gaze slightly.

She answered with a gob of spit.

The spit hit me square in the face. I froze, unable even to wipe it away.

"Consider this a favor," she breathed with contempt. "What you get from me is already more than you deserve. Thank me, wretch."

Tears escaped me despite myself.

"Thank you... Your Majesty," I whispered in a broken voice.

She clicked her tongue, irritated. "You can't even pronounce a sentence properly."

Her foot then slammed into my stomach. The air rushed from my lungs, and I half-collapsed, choking back a scream.

"The next time you get an order, you obey without thinking! Even if my daughter demands you crawl, you do it!"

I nodded, panting. "Yes... Your Majesty."

I had no other choice.

Luna Marilyne finally turned her attention away and moved closer to her daughter, Jessie, stroking her hair as if nothing had just happened.

"Anything you wish, just say the word, and this dog will do it," she declared softly.

Jessie wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I would hope so. But why even keep this one around? She's repulsive. And that scar..."

Those words pierced my chest like a blade.

Luna Marilyne answered with an ice-cold smile. "She knows her place. That's all that matters. She stays beneath our feet. You can command her as you see fit."

Jessie tilted her head slightly. "Even... make her disappear?"

I felt my blood run cold.

A brief laugh escaped Luna Marilyne. "Not yet. Your father is attached to her for some obscure reason. But it won't last. I'll handle it."

I stayed frozen, barely breathing.

They talked about me as if I didn't exist.

As if I were nothing but an object.

Jessie sighed, already bored. "Let her at least do my hair properly. Or else, I'll deal with her myself."

"She will do what needs to be done," her mother replied before turning away.

Their footsteps faded away, followed by their servants.

I was left alone with the silence.

My entire life had unfolded this way.

In the Moonlight Pack, being born here was considered a privilege. This is a land feared and respected.

But none of it had ever applied to me.

My birth was nineteen years ago, in the depths of the stronghold, to a woman reduced to slavery.

The rumors said that Alpha Balak had a forbidden affair with her.

His official mate, Marilyne, had endured his infidelities for a long time. But this time, he had crossed a line by refusing to cast my mother out.

Marilyne's rage had relentlessly descended upon her. Every time the Alpha was away provided an opportunity to break her.

When she fell pregnant, she was locked away even more tightly.

I was born premature, in pain and blood.

My mother didn't survive.

Upon his return, the Alpha saw in me only an unbearable reminder.

I was blamed for her death.

Fragile, sickly, I was expected to be a mistake that wouldn't survive.

But an old healer, Urélia, had taken me in secretly. She nourished me as best she could, until I somehow clung to life.

Against all odds, I didn't die.

But my survival changed nothing.

A scar had marked my face since childhood. I was branded a living curse. Alpha's illegitimate daughter. Useless and despised.

All I had ever known were the lowest tasks, beatings, and daily humiliation.

And above all, the obligation to serve those who hated me.

Jessie gestured to a servant. "After my service, have her taken to her third punishment."

I understood immediately.

My body seized up.

The third punishment was never given to pack members. Only to enemies or traitors.

That meant public execution... and thirty lashes. For a simple hairstyling mistake.

Someone threw me to the ground without an ounce of care.

Around me, the warriors in training had stopped. Everyone was watching.

The silence was oppressive.

I realized I would be the first of my kind to endure this.

Jessie, standing off to the side, looked satisfied.

She was looking at me the way one looks at a mistake being corrected.

Our blood ties had never mattered.

She had grown up in luxury. I, in the dust.

Two parallel existences that only intersected in cruelty.

The enforcer approached.

I instinctively shrank back. "Please..."

But he didn't listen.

He tore the fabric from my back.

The cold air bit into my skin.

An involuntary movement sent the rest of my clothes sliding down, exposing more of my body. The laughter began.

"Strip her completely," Jessie ordered in a cutting voice.

I stood paralyzed.

The fabric was completely ripped away.

I had nothing on underneath. Nothing to cover myself with.

I curled in on myself, arms crossed over my chest.

The first blow landed.

Pain exploded like a bolt of lightning.

The whip kept coming, again and again, lacerating my skin. The world shrank to just the burning, the blood, the dizziness.

I made out Urélia in the distance.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. But she couldn't intervene.

It was forbidden.

Each blow pushed me closer to collapse. Then the silence returned. I could no longer feel my legs.

Urélia rushed over the moment the punishment ended and held me tight.

"Breathe... I'm here..."

Her voice was the only steady thing in the chaos.

A strange warmth enveloped me then, as if something were shielding my body.

Jessie cut back in coldly, "Get her up. She has work to do."

Urélia straightened, furious. "She can't move in this condition."

"That's not my problem. My preparations for Luna's gala won't wait."

Urélia replied in a firm tone, "I'm taking her with me. I'll tend to her wounds."

Then she ordered that I be lifted.

Jessie protested, but no one really listened.

I was carried away from the scene.

The last thing I felt was the movement of the ground vanishing beneath me.

Then everything went dark.