The Cursed Alpha's Fifth Luna

Freya took Nina’s hand, and before she could react, pulled her through the door.

A blinding light forced Nina to shut her eyes tight as they crossed the threshold of the ancient tree. A wild gust of wind howled past her ears, whipping her hair around her face—and then, as suddenly as it had begun, the wind died down. Silence fell.

“You can open your eyes now.” Freya let go of her hand.

Nina slowly unknitted her brows and looked up.

They were standing in the middle of a cobblestone street in a quiet village. Low-roofed houses lined either side, built in a style entirely foreign to the craftwork of the Vermont Pack. Villagers strolled past, a few casting curious glances at the newcomers.

A group of children darted past in a game of chase, one of them bumping hard into Nina’s hip. The dull impact snapped her back to reality. For a moment, she had thought she was dreaming.

“Where are we?”

“Golenn Town. Hades Pack territory.”

Nina whipped toward Freya, her eyes wide. “What? Hades Pack?” She spun in a circle, searching in disbelief. “That’s two days away from the Vermont Pack! How am I going to get back? What if the Alpha starts looking for me?”

She searched frantically for the ancient tree they had just walked through, but there was nothing behind them except an empty path.

Freya chuckled softly. “You panic too much. We brought you here, didn’t we? Trust that we can take you back.” She turned, stepping smoothly down the street. “Now come on. The elders are waiting.”

Nina stared at Freya’s back before hurrying after her.

“This is where you are from,” Freya added casually. “That is… before you were reborn.”

Nina’s gaze swept over the low roofs and quiet streets. Was this why she had felt that eerie sense of déjà vu the first time she had come here with the Alpha? The pieces were beginning to fit together.

“What about my family?” she asked, a small pause. ”My family before I was reborn.”

Freya stiffened slightly. Something dark flickered across her eyes, gone in a blink.

“They were murdered,” she replied flatly. “By the Founding Council, after they learned of the curse you placed on the Lycans.”

Nina stopped in her tracks. “Every one of them?”

“Every single one.”

Silence stretched between them. Nina looked down at her hands. If Freya was telling the truth, then these people had every reason to want the Lycans destroyed. If she had her old memories—if she could feel the agonizing weight of losing everyone she loved—maybe this vengeance would make sense to her.

Suddenly, the memory of his face from that morning flashed across her mind. Nina shut her eyes tightly, shoving the image back into the dark. She forced a slow, steady breath into her lungs and put on a mask of calm.

“How long before we reach the Three Realms?”

“Very soon.”

Freya’s idea of “soon,” however, was generous. Thirty minutes later, they were standing on the muddy bank of a wide river.

Nina’s jaw dropped. “Don’t tell me we have to cross this river?” She glanced up at the purpling, darkening sky. Rodrigo would definitely be back by now.

“You’re already here,” Freya said mildly. “Why not get what you came for before you return?”

Before Nina could argue, the faint creak of oars sounded over the water. A small wooden boat emerged from the dark.

“Strange,” Freya murmured with a smirk. “The ferry is early today. Usually, it’s an hour’s wait.” She stepped aboard as the boat scraped against the shore. “Quickly, let’s go.”

Nina swallowed hard and followed. If she had known she’d be gone this long, she would have concocted an airtight lie before leaving. She stared up at the night sky. Night had fallen completely now, though the moon was noticeably absent.

“Another full moon is in three days, Annalise,” Freya said quietly as the boatman pushed off into the dark water.

Nina turned to her sharply. “There would be a full moon?”

Freya nodded. “Some of the witches who hold back the moon are part of us. We let the Lycans believe they were controlling it while we waited for the right moment. Now that you’re ready, nothing is stopping it.”

Nina blinked, turning her gaze back to the dark water, her stomach twisting.

They were everywhere. The lycans stood no chance.

“We are here.”

The boat scraped against the far shore. Freya pressed a coin into the boatman’s palm and stepped out onto the damp earth. Nina hurried after her into the thick night.

The narrow path leading from the river was pitch-black, flanked by dense, overgrown briars. The only sound was the distant, rhythmic chirping of crickets. Nina kept close to Freya’s heels until torchlight flickered up ahead.

She froze.

Standing before them was a colossal, ancient stone gate. Arcane symbols were deeply carved into its archway.

The characters were written in a strange text—yet as Nina stared at them, the meaning bloomed instantly in her mind. The Three Realms.

“How… how can I read that?” Nina asked in surprise.

“Because you are one of us,” Freya said, looking back at her. “Not just anyone can see the Three Realms. To a human or a Lycan, this gate looks like nothing more than an impassable wall of trees. Only the witches of this coven can see the city behind it.”

Freya stepped up to the high doors and laid her open palm against the stone. A soft, brilliant blue light surged from her skin, veining through the carved runes. With a heavy groan, the massive gates swung open on their own.

Nina’s breath caught in her throat.

It was a hidden sanctuary—a vibrant, ancient town nestled in the valley beyond. But it wasn’t just the view that made her chest tighten; it was the air. It vibrated with a humming, invisible energy. Pure, concentrated magic saturated the atmosphere, wrapping around her like a warm embrace.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. Nina looked down at her hands.

She felt it—a spark crackling beneath her skin, rushing to the very tips of her fingers. For the first time since discovering her true nature, the hollow ache in her chest vanished. She felt whole. She felt home.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “Wow…”

Freya glanced over her shoulder, a small smile playing on her lips. “You feel it, don’t you?”

Nina nodded wordlessly.

“Now you believe us.”

Nina bit her lower lip, a sharp pang hitting her chest. A small part of her had desperately hoped it was all a lie—that everything they’d told her was all a lie. But she couldn’t deny the power thrumming through her veins. It was undeniable.

As they crossed the threshold into the Three Realms, heads began to turn. The villagers stopped in their tracks, watching Nina pass with wide, stunned eyes.

Whispers broke out, rippling through the crowd.

Nina shrank back slightly, frowning. “Why are they staring at me like that?”

“Because of your hair.”

“My hair?”

“It’s glowing.”

Nina’s eyes widened. She grabbed a handful of her long hair and pulled it into her line of sight.

Sure enough, her strands were shimmering with a soft, ethereal silver luminescence.

Freya laughed at the sheer shock on her face. “Only Annalise’s hair glows when she steps into the Three Realms. They recognize the primordial witch.”

Nina’s heart slammed against her ribs as she stared at the light radiating from her own hands and hair.

And then she looked around her, at all the eyes on her.

In front of her, a small crowd had gathered, whispering feverishly among themselves. Then, all at once, the murmurs died into absolute silence.

Nina frowned, watching the crowd part to make way for two elderly women clad in midnight-blue robes. The air around them grew instantly heavy, saturated with a magic so ancient and intense that Nina’s newfound inner spark recoiled beneath her skin.

They walked slowly toward her, and Nina forced herself to stay grounded as they approached. Both women looked to be in their eighties, their silver hair swept back into tight, neat buns. Warm, wide smiles stretched across their weathered faces, but their eyes held an eerie depth.

“Annalise,” the elder on the left breathed, her voice raspy like grinding stones. “You have returned to us at last.”

Nina swallowed the lump in her throat and lowered her head in polite greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said softly.

The elder stepped closer and placed a frail hand on her shoulder, patting her lightly. “We have waited so long for you,” she murmured, resting her fingers under Nina’s chin and gently lifting her head so their eyes met. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

A few minutes later, Nina found herself seated at the end of a long wooden table, facing six ancient women. Servants moved in quiet efficiency, filling the space with platters of rich food and tall goblets of dark wine.

“Eat. You must be starving,” said the elder who had greeted her outside.

Nina cleared her throat. She wasn’t hungry in the slightest, but refusing their hospitality felt dangerous. “Thank you,” she replied, reaching for a spoon.

Before the metal could touch her lips, the heavy wooden door creaked open, followed by the soft click of footsteps behind her.

“You’re late,” another elder called out, her gaze drifting past Nina to the doorway. “Come, I would like you to meet someone.”

Nina frowned, turning around in her seat.

Standing by the entrance was a middle-aged woman whose beauty was striking enough to steal the breath from the room. Piercing blue eyes were the first thing Nina noticed, framing a face draped in dark, cascading black hair that spilled over her shoulders.

The woman’s gaze swept from the elders to Nina—and the moment their eyes met, her feet froze.

“Come, Isabelle,” the elder coaxed smoothly. “Meet your daughter.”