The Alpha's Stolen Luna

Kaya

I don’t know if anyone else is listening, but I pray to the Goddess that I’m the only one who hears this.

How do they know? And if they do, does that mean everyone else knows too?

The coffee girl from yesterday reacted strangely when she heard my name. And the chef—he didn’t look down on me, not even today. Were they just being polite, or were they holding back because they already knew?

"Whore?!" The first girl practically shrieks the word, her voice slicing through the air like a blade.

I flinch. I can’t help it.

At this point, I don’t even care if they see my reaction. My entire body is trembling, the humiliation so intense I feel like I might collapse under its weight. I want to disappear—to be swallowed whole by the earth, burned to ash, erased from existence.

Whore. Whore. Whore.

I despise that word. I always have. Even though I should be used to it by now, I refuse to accept it. I was called a whore in my first pack. I was called a whore in Dark Wood. No matter where I go, no matter what I do, I can never seem to outrun this filthy label.

I lower my gaze to my lap, curling in on myself as if making my body smaller will somehow make me invisible.

The room feels suffocating. I don’t hear anyone else joining in on their conversation, but if these three women know, it’s only a matter of time before the entire pack does too.

My mind shuts down. Their voices become distant, a meaningless blur of sound.