Reborn Luna: Rewriting My Tragic Fate

Elara Blackwood POV:

The air was thick with the tang of blood and the cloying sweetness of healing herbs. I sat perfectly still on a wooden stool, my hands folded in my lap, and stared out the small, grime-streaked window of the Healer's office. A few drops of crimson, stark against the pale blue silk of my gown, were the only evidence of the chaos.

From the hallway, I could hear the pained whimpers and the low, urgent tones of the pack doctor. "Hold her arm steady. The cut is deep, but clean. It will heal."

A familiar, grating voice cut through the murmurs. "She did it on purpose! The Luna's always hated me. She just snapped!" Briar Shaw. Of course.

The door creaked open and Calyx Thorne, the pack's Head Healer, stepped inside. He was an ancient wolf, his face a roadmap of centuries, but his brown eyes were as sharp and clear as a young pup's. He moved with a quiet grace that always set my teeth on edge.

His gaze swept over me, taking in the blood on my dress, my vacant expression. "Luna," he said, his voice calm, measured. "Please tell me what happened. Why did your inner wolf attack a member of this pack?"

A tremor ran through me, a calculated shudder that started in my shoulders and worked its way down my spine. I brought my hands to my temples, my voice fracturing as I spoke. "It wasn't me... It was her. Nyx. My wolf. She won't listen to me anymore."

I squeezed my eyes shut, feigning a battle against an internal force. "She's so angry, Calyx. All she does is scream inside my head. It's been getting worse for weeks."

I let out a soft, broken sob. "And the whispers... there are these whispers. They're not my voice, and they're not Nyx's. They say terrible things, and it makes her so, so angry."

I risked a glance at him through my lashes. I saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes, the slight furrow of his brow. A broken mating bond could certainly cause mental instability, but this tale of a third-party whisper? It was too fantastic. Perfect.

In my mind, I saw the true whisper, the cold, emotionless voice of Stellan Maris that had spoken the prophecy: *You will be rejected. Your love will turn to ash.* But on my face, there was only the agony of a woman losing her mind.

Calyx stepped forward, his herbal scent growing stronger. "Allow me to try and soothe her, Luna."

He reached out, his hand glowing with a soft, golden light, and placed it on my forehead. I felt his healing energy probe, searching for the frantic, panicked spirit of my wolf.

I didn't give it to him. Instead, I threw up a wall of pure, chaotic energy inside my own mind, a psychic tempest of my own creation. I made him feel a wild, snarling beast, thrashing against its cage, utterly beyond reason.