Rebirth Of The Rejected Luna Chapter 123: Rogue Battle

**Erika's POV**

An emergency?

And the King was asking for me?

My instincts flared in warning.

Something wasn’t right.

I stood, reaching for my boots and slipping them on swiftly.

The girl fidgeted in the doorway, her gaze flickering toward me with uncertainty.

I strapped my belt around my waist, securing my dagger and the small pouch I always carried. My pulse remained steady, but my thoughts raced.

The Alpha had barely spoken to me. It had only been once when he had summoned me.

And now, suddenly, there was an emergency that required my help?

The uneasy feeling coiling in my stomach deepened.

"Did he say anything else?" I pressed, watching the girl’s reaction closely.

She hesitated. "Only that it was urgent. The soldiers have already gathered. You should hurry."

She lowered her head again and stepped back.

I nodded, though my mind remained wary.

I would go, but I would be ready for anything busy in case.

With one last glance around my room, I followed the girl into the dimly lit corridor, bracing myself for whatever awaited beyond those doors.

The moment I stepped outside, the crisp evening air hit my face, but it did nothing to chase away the tension gripping my chest. The stone pathways were already alive with movement—soldiers rushing past, their footsteps echoing against the walls, armour clanking as they hurried toward the assembly grounds.

I ran.

Not because I was afraid. Not because I was eager. But because something inside me stirred the moment the servant uttered the word emergency.

The assembly grounds were a large, open space within the pack house. An area meant for gathering before the battle. When I arrived, it was already packed. Warriors stood in formation, some fully armoured, others still fastening weapons to their belts.

At the front, standing tall on the raised stone platform, were the Alpha and Carlo.

The Alpha’s expression was severe, his piercing gaze sweeping across the gathered soldiers with the authority only a ruler could command. Beside him, Carlo stood rigid, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on me.

For the briefest moment, something flickered in his gaze. But before I could decipher it, the Alpha’s voice rang out.

“There has been an attack.”

The murmuring of the soldiers ceased immediately.

“The villages on the outskirts of our land have been ravaged,” the Alpha continued, his voice steady, commanding. “Survivors report that rogue Lycans have descended upon them in the night, killing without reason, slaughtering entire families.”

“The reports came too late. We do not know how many are dead. But the survivors say the rogues are still there. They are still hunting.”

Rage flared in my chest, hot and suffocating.

We all knew what rogues were.

They were Lycans who had lost control—creatures who had abandoned the laws of the pack, driven mad by their instincts, by their bloodlust. Some were outcasts, others former warriors who had given in to their most primal urges.

But to attack a village? To murder innocent people in the night?

That was no mindless rampage.

That was war.

“I have declared the permission to retaliate,” the Alpha announced. “We leave now. We show them what happens when they spill our people’s blood.”

A thunderous roar erupted from the crowd, warriors howling in agreement.

The Alpha’s gaze shifted to me, lingering just a moment too long.

I stiffened.

Why was he looking at me like that?

But there was no time to question it.

Carlo stepped forward, his voice cutting through the noise. “Move out!”

*+*+*+*+

The journey to the outskirts was a blur. I ran alongside them, my breath steady, my muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap.

When we arrived on the outskirts, smoke curled into the night sky. The village was barely standing. Homes had been torn apart, walls shattered, roofs collapsed. The scent of blood was thick in the air, sharp and suffocating. Bodies littered the streets—some still, others twitching, gasping for air as they bled into the dirt.

And then there were the rogues.

Their eyes glowed red with madness, their fur matted with blood—some of it their own, most of it not. They snarled as they caught our scent, their bodies coiling in preparation for the fight.

I shifted, the transformation ripping through me in an instant. My bones stretched, my muscles swelled, and my fur bristled along my arms as my senses exploded with awareness.

I lunged.

The first rogue barely had time to react before my claws tore across his throat. Blood sprayed, hot and thick, but I was already moving, already turning to the next.

The battlefield became a blur of snarling fangs and clashing claws. I didn’t think before acting, I just moved.

I was faster stronger, and my own body felt lighter and easier to carry. It also seemed like the enemies were too slow.

Something inside me had awakened.

I tore through them like they were nothing.

A rogue lunged at me, but I dodged effortlessly, twisting my body mid-air before landing behind him and driving my claws into his spine. He howled, but the sound barely registered before I ended him.

Another came at me, this one larger, his teeth bared, his movements erratic. But it didn’t matter.

I met him head-on, slamming my weight into his side. He staggered, and I took the opening—my claws raking across his ribs, my fangs finding his throat.

He dropped.

And I kept going.

I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t stop.

Every movement was effortless, instinctual. It was as if something deep within me had taken control—something other than my wolf.

And it wanted blood.

I was barely conscious of the others around me, of the warriors fighting beside me, of Carlo—

Until I felt that there was a Presence behind him. I didn’t see it, but I sensed it.

A rogue that was larger than the others, crazed with bloodlust, was charging toward Carlo’s back, and he didn’t see it or know.