Page 178 of Unforgivable

Lyri

I look up as my friend, the sun, rises. It's MayDay, the start of the new year for us. Typically the pack would be preparing for the contests, the races, the potluck supper, Ezra's baking competition. Celebrating. The joy.

This year they will be watching a bitch die.

Luna Gloria steps onto the open field, ringed with spectators from every walk of life in the pack. Even Elias, Ezra's Gramps, is here, with his tinfoil hat on. He reminds me of Bea. He's not crazy. I'm fairly certain he just wanted to make sure that everyone gave him space today. It worked.

Luna Gloria inspects my body, nude except for a blue stripe of cloth tied around my breasts and another tied between my legs. Cloe is wearing red, as the Challenger. That alone confused some of the pack. Why would the 'future luna' be the Challenger?

Luna Gloria's finger dance over my skin, searching for weapons, for oils on my skin that would burn my opponent. She checks my tightly braided hair closely. I think that will end up being the worst part of this Challenge, letting mom do my hair at five o'clock in the morning. Luna Gloria lifts my hands, one at a time, inspecting my claws.

Then she limps over to Cloe, standing fifty feet away, to do the same inspection on her. As she leaves, Luna Jess takes her spot, inspecting me. Both Cloe and I are allowed to choose a female to perform this rite before the Challenge begins. It's telling, we both chose lunas, but Gloria is far more powerful and a bit more popular than Jessi.

The current Luna has a fierce light glowing in her eyes. I ignore her as she roughly examines me. I don't spend much time analyzing Jessi. Ultimately, she has no real importance to me anymore. I'm no longer her son's rejected mate who needs to be kicked down the ladder of pack hierarchy over and over. I'm the female who is Claiming Jessi's title... without her son by my side. She's deluded if she thinks that tugging too hard at my limbs is going to have any impact on me whatsoever.

I look at Cloe, her perfect skin, unmarred by the scars that litter mine. I used to be jealous of Cloe's flawless, unblemished skin. I have new scars from that night, horrendous scars, but I always had a few here and there, even before. I was a rough-and-tumble pup, and then I was training. Cloe's skin is still unmarred, but for the first time, I realize that it makes her look like a weak pup. And... she bears no Mark. Not even a healed scar is on her skin to show there was an attempt at Marking her. It seems Daan couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe his wolf stopped him.

I didn't shower my males off of me this morning. Mom told me that I stink, but she said it with a smirk. I want the pack to know who I belong to, who belongs to me. Screw Daan and Cloe.

He's here, hands manacled and chained to his feet, standing upright with a straight back with his father and mother on either side of him. I can't see who he's staring at, maybe nothing, but I don't waste time thinking about Daan.

My males stand together, along with Carmichael, who's grinning like a crazed fool. Teague is with the alpha family as an official 'guest' of the pack. He's fighting his grin. This morning, he explained to me that as my mother tortured my hair into submission, how to pry the arms off an opponent. It was interesting. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I couldn't physically do that. I suppose he can, but he's a mammoth.

Luna Gloria finishes her inspection and limps to the center of the field. She's limping with the opposite leg from moments before. A smile twitches on my lips. Old faker.

Luna Jessi gets to the center before her and doesn’t wait for the elder luna to begin the Challenge. Both females toss a small bit of cloth into the air. Blue and red flutter in the breeze as they descend. When they touch the earth, the Challenge begins.

Red hits the ground first. Cloe runs at me, teeth bared and claws ready, but I don't take my eyes from the blue cloth dancing to the ground. She's only a few feet away from me when the blue brushes the first stalks of grass.

I hit her, hard and low, driving my shoulder into her gut and spinning her around. She's surprised. I can see it in her eyes, the shock, then the fear. She rarely sparred in training, and the wolves went light against her. She always had it easy. Now that's coming back to bite her in the ass. I've taken blows that she can't even fathom.

I grab her arm on the side I hit and twist, hearing a telltale snap. Just a fracture. She can fight through it, but she doesn't. Her scream of pain is music to my ears.

I hit her again and again as she stumbles backward. This is how I want her to die. I want to take my time, to showcase how skilled I am. Not because I'm smug, but because I want Daan, his father, and mother, Drew and Mari, and the pack, to see just how much better I am than her. Even though I still ache from Liam's attack and my recovery, even though my Heat makes my limbs twitch and my skin feels tight, I can kill this she-wolf, this imposter luna, easily.

I let her bleed and bleed, her whimpers and sobs meaningless. Did those males stop hurting me when I pleaded and screamed for mercy? Did I have relief from the agony? From the betrayal?

My she-wolf twitches in annoyance. She can hear her in her sensitive ears. Her wailing. It's irritating. I wonder if she cried as she and Daan drove away from his mistake to hide in another pack six months ago? Did she sob and whine pathetically in that car, in their borrowed bedroom, on the bed they always shared, because he betrayed her? Did she lament the fact that her mate cheated on her to all her little friends and family?

Did she cry for herself and her lie of a life while I was torn apart that night?

It's not until I hear Sarj's tiny whisper on the wind that I realize I'm spitting these questions at her, out loud.

"What's Ri talkin' 'bout, In?"

I look up through Cloe's blood flecking my eyelashes. Sarj looks bewildered, his young mind having trouble wrapping around the fact that his mother-figure is killing another she-wolf while hissing vitriolic questions at her.

I take a deep breath and feel my she-wolf settle in me. Her rage towards the faux luna is sky-high, but she is not a crazed killer. We are methodical, her and I. We are Luna.

I look back down at Cloe. "Did you know what happened to me?" I ask her calmly. "While you hid in another pack, did you know that I had nearly died in a Shaming? Did you hide that information from your mate?"

I don't want just to kill her. I want everyone to see her culpability. I want vindication. Poor, sweet, vulnerable Cloe has gotten away with pretending to be a good little she-wolf for too long.

"I knew he would run back to you," she whispers, but I know that the closest wolves can hear her. He can hear her.

"When did you know who I was to your mate?" I ask her.

Her face tightens in anger under the blood and swelling. "I've always known. I always saw how Daan-" she catches her breath in pain, "how he watches you when he thinks I don't see."

---