Chapter 108
AYLA'S POV
I watched from the window as Jonas and Lydia walked down the driveway, their figures fading into the soft glow of twilight. My stepmother, Sarah, stood at the doorway, waving them off with that practiced, sugary smile she always wore around guests. The moment the car disappeared, the smile dropped, and I knew what was coming.
The only thing Sarah hated more than me staying in her house was the burden I represented. My father had died just a few months ago, and already, she was itching to be rid of me.
“Ayla,” she called, her voice thin and edged with impatience.
I stayed silent, gripping the edge of the curtain. How had it come to this? How had my life unraveled so completely?
It wasn’t like I didn’t know. I’d been cursed—or at least, that’s what everyone whispered behind my back.
The day I met Ashton was supposed to have been the happiest day of my life. I remembered it like it was yesterday.
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It was the Jacaranda Festival, the streets alive with music and the air filled with the scent of flowers. I’d just turned eighteen, the age every werewolf dreams about, the moment the Moon Goddess reveals your mate.
And then I saw him. Ashton.
Tall, golden-haired, and smiling like he already knew the secret to the universe. When our eyes met, it felt like the world tilted on its axis.
I couldn’t stop smiling as we talked for hours beneath the falling jacaranda petals. He was funny, kind, and everything I’d ever dreamed of. That night, I couldn’t sleep, replaying every moment in my head. I was so sure my future had finally begun.
But the next day, it all came crashing down.
Ashton was dead, someone told me, their voice trembling with shock. A car accident, they said. A freak tragedy.
The news shattered me. I remember screaming, sobbing, begging the Moon Goddess to undo it. What had I done to deserve this? What had Ashton done?
I cried for months, isolating myself from everyone. When I couldn’t bear the pain anymore, I tried to end it. But even death wouldn’t take me. My family intervened, sending me to therapy, where I spent a year talking to people who couldn’t possibly understand the depth of my loss.
When I came back, the world was gray. Five years later, it still was.
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Now, with my father gone—the only man who had ever truly understood me—I was adrift. Floating. Surviving, but not living.
I barely noticed Sarah bustling around the house until she paused beside me, fake concern etched on her face.
“Are you even listening?” she snapped, shattering the fragile quiet.
I blinked at her. “What?”
“Sit down, Ayla,” she ordered. “I have something important to discuss with you.”
Her tone sent a chill down my spine. I reluctantly sat at the dining table, staring at the breakfast she’d laid out. The sudden display of kindness was unsettling.
“I’ve found you the perfect match,” Sarah announced, her tone bright and triumphant. “You’re going to be the next Luna!”
I froze.
“What?”
Sarah beamed, clearly proud of herself. “You’ll be mated to Alpha Jake. His pack needs a Luna, and you...well, you need to stop wallowing in your misery and move on with your life. It’s a perfect solution.”
“No,” I said firmly, the word leaving my lips before I could stop it.
Sarah’s smile vanished. Her face darkened, the sharp edges of her personality emerging. “Excuse me?”
“I said no,” I repeated, standing. My voice shook, but I wouldn’t back down. “I’m not interested in being someone’s Luna. You can’t just trade me off like some kind of...property.”
Sarah slammed her hand on the table, making me jump. “You don’t have a choice, Ayla. This is already decided. The council approved it. You should be grateful! Do you know how many women would kill for this opportunity?”
Grateful? For what? Being forced into a life I didn’t want? With someone I didn’t know?
“I don’t care what the council says,” I said, my voice rising. “I’m not doing it.”
Sarah glared at me, her eyes cold and calculating. “Your father spoiled you, letting you mope around like a broken doll. But he’s gone now, Ayla. And it’s time you faced reality. You’re twenty-three, cursed, and useless. This is the best you’ll ever get.”
Her words hit me like a slap, but I refused to let her see how deeply they cut. Instead, I turned on my heel and stormed upstairs.
That night, sleep didn’t come easily. It hadn’t for months.
The dreams started shortly after my father’s death. At first, they were vague—a voice calling out to me, urging me to protect something. But over time, they became clearer. More urgent.
Two babies, always the same, with bright green eyes and innocent faces. Their cries echoed in my mind, and a voice—familiar yet unrecognizable—whispered, *“Protect them.”*
I jolted awake, my heart racing and my skin clammy with sweat.
The dream had been more vivid than ever. I could still see their faces, hear their laughter. It felt real, like I’d been standing there with them.
“What the hell is happening to me?” I muttered, dragging myself to the bathroom.
I splashed cold water on my face, staring at my reflection. My blue eyes were dull, shadowed by dark circles from countless sleepless nights. My once-neat bob had grown into a wild tangle of black curls that I no longer bothered to tame. It hung past my waist now, a physical reminder of how much I’d let myself go.
I sighed, running a hand through the mess of curls. I barely recognized the woman staring back at me.
By morning, Sarah was back to her usual chipper self, but I wasn’t fooled. Her pleasant demeanor was a mask, and I could feel her simmering resentment beneath it.
“Good morning, Ayla,” she said, placing a plate of toast in front of me.
I eyed it suspiciously. “What’s this?”
“Breakfast,” she said sweetly. Too sweetly.
I sat down, wary of her sudden generosity. She didn’t waste time getting to the point.
“I know last night’s news was a lot to take in,” she began, sitting across from me. “But I’ve spoken to the council again, and they’re all in agreement. This match is what’s best for everyone.”
“For 'you', you mean,” I said bitterly.
Sarah’s smile faltered. “Ayla, don’t be selfish. This isn’t just about you. It’s about the pack. About stability.”
“I never asked to be part of this pack,” I shot back. “And I never asked to be someone’s Luna.”
“You’re acting like a child,” Sarah snapped, her patience wearing thin. “This isn’t up for debate. The arrangements are already in place. Alpha Jake will arrive next week to formalize the bond.”
My stomach churned at her words. “You can’t force me into this.”
“I can, and I will,” she said, standing. Her eyes bore into mine, cold and unyielding. “You’ve spent five years wallowing in self-pity. It’s time to grow up, Ayla. You’ll thank me for this one day.”
I pushed back from the table, my appetite gone. Without another word, I turned and left the room, her voice ringing in my ears.
Back in my bedroom, I collapsed onto the bed, my mind racing.
Was this really my life now? A pawn in someone else’s game?
I thought of the dreams again, of the twins and the voice that urged me to protect them. The memories of their faces felt so vivid, so real.
For the first time in a long time, a spark of something flickered inside me. Defiance.
Sarah could try to control me all she wanted, but I wasn’t going to let her—or anyone else—decide my fate.
Not again.
And as I stared out the window at the rising sun, I made a silent promise to myself: I would find a way to take back my life, no matter what it took.
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