6

LEAH’S POV

"Do not... do not say a single word," Luna Mary whispers, her voice trembling violently despite her desperate attempt to sound authoritative and cold. "You will speak of this to no one. Do you hear me, Leah? Not a single soul!"

"I... I understand, Luna Mary," I say, dropping my gaze meekly and letting my shoulder drop as if cowed by her command. "I will keep quiet. I’m just an omega, after all."

Luna Mary shoves my hand away as if my skin has burned her. Her chest rises and falls in rapid, panicked sweeps as she forces herself to take three deep, shuddering breaths.

She reaches up with shaking, gloved hands, frantically smoothing down her hair, adjusting her high collar, and pulling her cold, high-class mask back over her pale face.

She picks up the heavy silver tray of sweet berry desserts from the counter, her hands visibly trembling against the polished metal surface, causing the glass bowls to rattle softly against each other.

"Know your place, Leah," she snaps, though her voice lacks every single ounce of its former bite. It sounds hollow and frail. "Stay in this kitchen until we have finished eating and your family is ready to leave."

She turns on her heel and walks swiftly out of the kitchen, her high heels clicking frantically against the stone corridor as she rushes back toward the dining hall to face her cheating husband and her beloved Willow.

The heavy wooden door swings shut behind her with a dull thud.

The second the latch clicks, my innocent, timid posture completely melts away.

I straighten my spine, tilting my head back as a low, dark chuckle bubbles up from deep within my chest. I raise my hand to my lips, letting a sharp, villainous smile spread across my face.

In my past life, Luna Mary died before I ever made it to my second term at Eclipse Academy. The pack claimed she suffered a sudden, tragic heart attack during a lonely winter evening.

But a few months later, faint rumors spread through the dark channels of the territory that she had locked herself in her grand quarters and drunk an entire bottle of toxic wolfsbane brew until she choked on her own blood.

Back then, naive and suffering at eclipse, I thought it was just a tragic loss for the Alpha's family. I mourned her alongside the rest of the pack, foolishly believing she was a victim of sudden illness.

But standing here now, watching how quickly she scrambled to hide her husband's affair and cover up Willow's betrayal, the whole bloody picture comes into crystal focus.

She didn’t just die of a broken heart or a random illness. She was backed into a corner, isolated, humiliated, and destroyed by the very secrets living under her own roof.

‘It was fishy then,’ I think, my eyes gleaming with pure, cold amusement in the dim kitchen light, ‘and seeing how desperately she tries to keep up appearances now... it is even more fishy now.’

It seems I wasn’t the only one in this cursed, hypocritical pack who got killed before their time. The only difference is that this time, I’m the one pulling the threads from the dark.

"Let’s see you hug your dear 'mother-in-law' now, Willow," I whisper to the empty room, my voice dripping with venom. "Let’s see how sweet and tender she acts toward you when she realizes you have been helping her husband cover up his dirt."

The seed has been planted. It’s a slow, invisible poison. Luna Mary will look at Willow with suspicion, disgust, and quiet, burning rage every single day from this moment on. Every time Willow smiles, every time Willow tries to play the sweet daughter, Luna Mary will only see the bloodroot ivy.

Their sweet, perfect bond is fractured beyond repair, and neither of them can ever fix it without exposing the ugly truth to the entire pack.

I turn my back on the kitchen island and walk toward the tall glass window overlooking the dark estate gardens.

Outside, the cool night wind sways the heavy oak trees, casting long, twisting shadows across the manicured lawns. Down below, the paved driveway stretches out toward the main iron gates of the Harvest Moon territory.

I have no intention of sitting through tomorrow's fake, boring send-off ceremony. I don’t care about Everest’s proud, arrogant speeches, Bea’s fake, pathetic tears, or Asher’s warnings about not disgracing the pack.

I’m done playing the quiet victim in this house. My time as their whipping girl ended the moment I opened my eyes in this second life.

"I’m not waiting for that stupid send-off ball tomorrow," I say softly, watching my own reflection in the dark glass of the window.

A dark, sharp smile touches my lips as I look at my own eyes in the reflection—eyes that no longer hold a drop of warmth or fear.

Eclipse Academy is a massive, dangerous territory governed by the Dean no one knows about, and supported by the four major packs.

It’s a place of blood and power. Right on its grounds lies something very specific—something powerful, something absolute that can rewrite the entire balance of power and give me the leverage I need to start my real plans early.

In my past life, that very thing was discovered by someone else because I was too late, too weak, and too distracted by my own misery to reach it first.

"I need to be the first one there to get it," I whisper, my voice filled with razor-sharp determination that cuts through the quiet night air. "Even if I have to arrive a whole week early before the gates officially open."

I turn away from the window, smooth down the simple skirt of my green dress, and head toward the back servant's exit.

I step out of the heavy wooden servant's door and into the cool, damp night air. The smell of pine needles and damp earth fills my lungs, a sharp contrast to the suffocating aura of the main house.

I step out of the heavy wooden servant's door and into the cool, damp night air. The smell of pine needles and damp earth fills my lungs, a sharp contrast to the suffocating aura of the main house.

“Free at last…”

I don’t return to my drafty attic room to gather my things. I have no need for the ragged clothes, the cheap ribbons, or the fake family heirlooms Augustine gave me over the years to keep me docile.

Everything in that room belongs to the Leah who died weeping in the flames.

All I carry with me is a small leather bag slung across my shoulder—containing a few dried medicinal herbs, a sharp silver knife I slipped from the kitchen prep counter, and a handful of silver coins I managed to hoard away over the past few months.

I walk along the shadowed perimeter of the estate, keeping my steps light and silent against the soft grass. The guards are stationed at the main iron gates, laughing loudly and drinking cheap beer from wooden mugs, completely unbothered by their duties.

They expect no trouble tonight.

"Fools," I murmur softly under my breath, watching them from behind the thick trunk of an old oak tree.

"What’s the use of even bothering to guard the pack when you’re only going to focus on the front door and drink yourselves away to stupor? What if a rat slips by?"

And I for one, plan to be worse than a rat.

I move swiftly toward the western boundary fence—a section of the wooden perimeter where the iron spikes have rusted away, leaving a gap wide enough for a slender frame to slip through.

It was a spot I discovered during my endless hours of gathering herbs for the pack's medicine room. Back then, I used it to sneak out and collect rare night-blooming flowers.

Tonight, it’s my gateway to freedom.