Chapter 2: The Luna
Kaya
The dining hall falls into a hushed silence as the Luna of the pack makes her entrance. Dozens of eyes snap toward her, following her every step as she glides through the gathered crowd with an air of quiet authority.
She wasn’t invited to tonight’s celebration, and judging by the storm brewing in her emerald gaze, she isn’t pleased about it.
Pausing beside a standing omega maid, she plucks a champagne flute from the tray with effortless grace, her movements fluid—like a swan gliding across the surface of a still lake.
Despite the deep furrow of disapproval between her brows, Camilla is as breathtaking as ever.
Her sleek black hair is pulled into a high, unforgiving ponytail, the long strands cascading down her exposed back, visible through the sheer mesh of her silk-green dress. A thin leather belt cinches her waist, accentuating the graceful curves of her slender frame.
She lifts the glass to her red lips, her sharp green eyes sweeping across the hall. A slight downturn of her mouth betrays her distaste as she takes in every female omega in the room.
Then, at last, her gaze lands on me.
A tight, invisible hand seems to squeeze my lungs, forcing the air from them. The weight of her hatred settles over me like a suffocating fog. She loathes me. Oh, how she loathes me. And that bitter, burning hatred seeps into my skin like acid, corroding me from the inside out.
Without breaking eye contact, Camilla tosses the now-empty champagne flute back at the maid. The poor girl fumbles, barely managing to catch it before it shatters against the marble floor.
Then, she moves—stalking toward me with slow, deliberate steps.
The corners of her lips twitch ever so slightly, a movement so faint most wouldn’t notice.