The Luna's Last Sacrifice Chapter 6

The memory crystal displayed the moonlight grove, three months ago, deep in the night.

Layla wore a hooded cloak, speaking in hushed tones with a black-robed figure beneath the trees. The image zoomed closer—beneath the black hood were sharp fangs and blood-red pupils.

Rogue werewolves.

"The Silver Thorn pollen will be delivered next week." The scout's voice was hoarse. "The dosage is sufficient to make her 'naturally deteriorate' within three months."

Layla handed over a pouch of moonstones. "Before the Blood Moon Ritual, I want her too weak to even stand."

"Aren't you afraid Sebastian will notice?"

"Him?" Layla laughed softly, that smile cold and unfamiliar. "He only sees the 'gentle, obedient Layla.' As for Stella... the more she suffers, the more perfect I appear by comparison."

She paused, adding, "Once Stella dies, I'll be Luna. When that happens, three hunting grounds on the western side of Shadowfang territory will be yours."

The scout accepted the pouch. "Pleasure doing business, future Luna."

The image froze abruptly.

"No!" Layla shrieked. "That's fabricated! She's framing me!"

Sebastian didn't move. He stared at the frozen frame—Layla's coldly calculating smile, an expression he'd never seen before.

"There's more." Dianna drew out parchment scrolls and unrolled them.

Forged bloodline test reports—Layla's "pure-blood certification" came from black market shamans, paid for with thirty moonstones.

Silver Thorn pollen purchase records—seven transactions over three months, all conducted through Layla's personal maid as intermediary.

"Enough."

Sebastian's voice was low, Alpha pressure crashed down like a tangible wall. His pupils shifted completely into hunting slits, fangs protruding half an inch from his lips.

"You calculated against her." He stared at Layla, each word squeezed through gritted teeth. "You poisoned her. You bought off the Council of Elders."

Layla backed away, hitting the stone wall. "Sebastian, let me explain—"

"Explain what?" He laughed, the sound hoarse and terrifying. "Explain how you killed my wife?"

He lunged forward.

Too fast, almost creating afterimages. Wolf claws tore through air, aimed directly at Layla's throat.

"Alpha!" Two elders materialized to intercept, runic chains instantly wrapping around Sebastian's arms. "No vigilante justice!"

Sebastian struggled, the chains erupting with blinding silver light. "Let go! I'll tear her apart—"

"Daddy?"

A childish voice came from the cave entrance.

Everyone froze.

Lewis stood there in pajamas, clutching a worn silver wolf plushie that Stella had sewn for his third birthday. He rubbed his eyes, looking confused at the chaotic scene.

"What are you doing?" He tilted his head, then looked at Layla. "Mom Layla, didn't you say you'd take me hunting this morning?"

The air felt like frozen ice.

Elsa knelt down trembling. "Lewis, sweetheart, come to Grandma."

Lewis didn't move. His gaze swept over the silver wolf's body on the stone platform, lingered for two seconds, then moved away.

"What happened to her?" He pointed at Stella.

"She..." Ron choked up. "She passed away, Lewis. Your mom... went to sleep on the moon."

Lewis blinked. "Oh." His reaction was terrifyingly flat. "So she's not coming back?"

"She's not coming back."

"That's good." Lewis shrugged, his tone like discussing the weather. "She always made Mom Layla unhappy."

Gasps echoed through the cave.

Sebastian's struggling stopped abruptly. He stared at his son, pupils trembling violently.

"Lewis," his voice was broken, "that was your mother—"

"I know." Lewis stamped his foot impatiently. "But she never took me hunting. Mom Layla plays with me every day."

He ran toward Layla. "Mom Layla, let's go! You promised to teach me to catch snow rabbits!"

Layla's tears finally spilled over. "Lewis, baby, right now I..."

"Where are you going?" Lewis saw the guards, his little face suddenly tensing. "Why are you arresting Mom Layla? Let her go!"

He charged forward, pounding the guards' legs with tiny fists.

"Don't take Mom Layla away! Daddy! Daddy, tell them to let go!"

Sebastian stood frozen like a statue suddenly weathered by time. He watched his son cry and scream for the woman who had poisoned his mother.

A guard said quietly, "Alpha, we need to take her now."

Layla was escorted toward the cave entrance. The chains clinked harshly.

"Mom Layla!" Lewis screamed and chased after her, fell down, then got back up.

"Why are they taking Mom Layla away? Did Mommy do this? She always does this! She always tries to make Mom Layla go away!"

"No, Lewis! It's not like that!" Sebastian cried out.

Lewis shrieked, "It is! I hate her! I hate Mommy!"

Even though Stella had already passed away, her son was still shouting those words.

Sebastian embraced the hysterical child, tears streaming down his face. He knew Lewis was too young to understand the meaning of death, couldn't comprehend what he had just lost.

Maybe someday, when he grew up and finally learned the truth, he would understand that the woman he claimed to hate was the one who loved him more than anything, and he would regret it.

But by then, it would be too late.