Don’t Poke the Luna Chapter 258

Xena’s POV

It was impossible. He was supposed to be dead. My mouth fell open in shock, my mind struggling to process this impossible reality.

Around me, I could see my young warriors kneeling in the dirt. They'd been beaten badly - their faces were swollen and bloodied, their eyes burning with pure rage as they glared at Benedict.

We were surrounded by a circle of Benedict's masked warriors, while several SUVs and vans were parked nearby, their engines still running.

Benedict's smile widened as he saw my shocked expression. He was clearly savoring this moment. His satisfaction was disgusting, making my stomach churn with revulsion.

The sound of a car door slamming made me turn my head. My blood turned to ice as I watched a figure emerge from one of the SUVs, hips swaying with deliberate seduction.

Helen.

She strutted toward Benedict like she owned the world. Without hesitation, she settled herself on his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck in a sickeningly intimate embrace.

The sight hit me like a physical blow. My vision blurred at the edges as rage and disbelief crashed over me in waves. "What the fuck is going on?" I screamed, my voice cracking with fury.

Benedict's face darkened, any trace of amusement vanishing as his expression turned cold and bitter. "This is what you deserve," he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "All of this is your fault. If Ryder had just been patient, if he'd waited for me to step down properly, none of this would have happened. But no - you had to poison his mind against me, turn him into some rebel who thought he could challenge my authority!"

His face contorted with pain and rage. "Everything that's happened is because of you, Xena. You destroyed everything!"

"Bullshit!" I spat back, my own anger flaring to match his. "You're fucking insane! You couldn't handle Wiley's attacks because you're too proud to listen to anyone else's opinions. You'd rather watch your pack burn than admit you might be wrong. This isn't about leadership - it's about your pathetic need to cling to power!"

My words hit their mark. Benedict's face flushed red with fury, his hands clenching into fists. "You little bitch," he growled. "Give her a lesson in respect."

I braced myself for the blow, every muscle in my body tensing. But seconds passed, and nothing happened. Confused, I turned to look at the warrior standing behind me.

His eyes were visible above his mask, and what I saw there surprised me. There was hesitation, conflict, as if he was struggling with some internal battle.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" Benedict roared at the hesitating warrior. "I said teach her some respect, you useless piece of shit!"

SLAP!

The sound echoed through the night as Helen's hand connected with my cheek. The force of it sent me stumbling, my face erupting in burning pain. Before I could recover, her fist slammed into my ribs, driving the air from my lungs.

"You fucking whore!" Helen screamed, her voice high and shrill with hatred. "You think you're so special, don't you? Think you can just waltz in and take everything that should be mine?"

Another punch caught me in the stomach, sending me crashing to the ground. The frozen earth was unforgiving against my already battered body.

"Where is Ryder?" Benedict demanded, his voice cutting through Helen's continued screaming.

"Fuck you," I gasped out, blood trickling from my split lip.

Helen's boot connected with my ribs, sending fresh waves of agony through my torso. She was completely unhinged now, all pretense of control gone as she unleashed years of jealousy and resentment.

"Enough," Benedict commanded sharply. Helen reluctantly stepped back, but not before delivering one final vicious kick to my side.

Benedict approached slowly. When he reached me, his boot came down hard on my right hand, grinding it into the frozen ground.

I screamed in agony, the pressure threatening to crush my fingers. The memory of my left hand injury flooded back, bringing with it a terror that cut deeper than any physical pain.

"You're all just children," Benedict said contemptuously, increasing the pressure on my hand. "How did you ever think you could run a pack? You can barely manage your own lives, let alone merge with Wiley's territory and handle all those new people."

"We're better leaders than you ever were!" I managed to gasp out through the pain. "We're the ones who defeated Wiley!"

His boot pressed down harder, and I couldn't help but cry out again. The thought of losing my right hand - sent panic coursing through my veins.

"Why did you release Martha?" I forced myself to ask.

"Everything was designed to lull you into a false sense of security," Benedict replied with obvious disdain. He lifted his foot slightly, giving me a moment's relief. "We wanted you to think it was all over, that you'd won. You idiots took in all of Wiley's women and children without considering whether you had enough people to guard them, enough food to feed them. I walked right into your cells and freed Martha like it was nothing."

He paused, clearly enjoying his moment of superiority. "Martha was just misdirection, something to keep you busy while we prepared the real attack. You never even bothered to properly inventory Wiley's weapons after you defeated him. You're exactly what I said - a bunch of fucking children playing at being adults!"

His words triggered a memory - something Wiley had mentioned about black bath bombs. "You modified Wiley's weapons, didn't you?" I asked.

Benedict's laughter was cold and bitter. "Smart girl. That's your only redeeming quality - your intelligence." His expression turned cruel. "I modified his chemical weapons and introduced them into the pack's water supply. I don't want to kill everyone - I just want to suppress your wolves, to render you all powerless so I can reclaim what's rightfully mine!"

His admission made me sick. "How did you make your own wolf disappear?" I demanded. "And why did it happen just minutes after Luna Kestrel died?"

The question hit him like a slap. His face contorted with rage, and his boot came up to kick my head with vicious force.

"It's all because of you!" he roared.

The impact sent explosions of pain through my skull. My vision blurred as waves of dizziness and nausea crashed over me. The world spun sickeningly, sounds becoming muffled and distant. I felt myself slipping away, consciousness wavering as the pain became overwhelming.

Through the haze of agony, I was dimly aware that the violence had stopped. There seemed to be some kind of commotion around me, voices raised in anger or alarm, but I couldn't make sense of any of it.

Gradually, my vision began to clear. A familiar silhouette came into focus - broad shoulders in a tight black shirt, motorcycle leather pants, and brown boots. Even before I could see his face, I knew who it was.

My hero had come back. The man who always put me first, who would move heaven and earth to protect me, was here.

Tears streamed down my face. My strength was completely spent. As darkness closed in around the edges of my vision, I let myself fall into unconsciousness.