The Luna's Last Sacrifice Chapter 7

In the werewolf Elder Council Chamber, eight elders sat in a circle. Sebastian stood at the main seat's left side—the Alpha's position—while the Luna's chair remained empty.

"The supplementary clause is valid." The Chief Elder's voice rasped. "If beneficiary Layla Pierce is involved in criminal activity, all transferred assets automatically convert to the 'Stella Moonshade Bloodline Healing Foundation.'"

Layla shrieked, "Forgery! This is a frame-up!"

"Silence." The Third Elder raised his hand, runic chains instantly wrapping around her mouth.

Sebastian stared at Stella's blood claw print on the scroll. The print's edges showed subtle trembling marks—she had signed while enduring excruciating pain.

"The foundation was registered and completed last night at moonfall." Lawyer Isaac unrolled a second document. "Initial funding will establish a specialized Lunar Blight Treatment Center, offering free services to all low-income pack members."

Layla struggled frantically, the chains cutting into her flesh.

"As for Lewis Wolfe's trust fund," Isaac continued, "renamed 'Moonlight Heritage,' set to unlock at age eighteen. Additional conditions: upon reaching adulthood, he must complete three border patrols and pass Luna basic curriculum assessments to inherit the authority over the twenty hunting grounds Stella left behind."

Sebastian's hands trembled. "She... thought of even this."

"She thought of everything." Isaac closed the scroll. "Including your reaction, Alpha."

Nine AM, pack tribunal.

Seven high elders sat on stone seats, with three hundred pack members standing below.

Layla was dragged to the center of the stone circle, shackles carved with ancient anti-transformation runes.

"Present the evidence," the Chief Elder declared.

Dianna stepped forward, the memory crystal glowing once more.

Deep in the moonlight grove, Layla mixed Silver Thorn pollen into Stella's moonlight tea, the image clear enough to see the cold smile on her lips.

The crowd erupted in outrage.

"Second piece of evidence." Dianna unrolled parchment. "This is testimony from a black market shaman. Layla paid fifty moonstones for forged pure-bloodline certification."

"Third." She activated a recording stone.

Layla's voice echoed throughout the tribunal: "Once Stella dies, I'll be Luna. When that happens, three western hunting grounds go to you rogue packs—that's our deal."

Dead silence.

Then explosive roars, "Traitor!" "Kill her!"

Sebastian stood, pupils contracting to slits. "How could you do this? Stella saved you."

Layla finally tore off her mask, sneering coldly. "So what? You noticed! You saw her claws shaking, saw her avoiding battles—you just chose to believe my story: 'She's gotten weak,' 'She's jealous of me.'"

She turned to the crowd. "Aren't you all the same? Who hasn't said behind her back, 'Stella's too domineering,' 'Layla's gentler'? Now you're playing righteous!"

The crowd instantly quieted.

"Verdict." The Chief Elder struck his stone staff. "Layla Pierce, guilty of treason, attempted murder, and usurpation. Sentenced to—eternal imprisonment in Dark Moon Cavern, enduring lunar eclipse pain daily until life's end."

That afternoon, pack messengers spread the news to every territory.

Voices of repentance began emerging throughout the pack. The border patrol captain publicly apologized, "We complained she was too harsh... now we realize she was clearing all threats for us."

She-wolves who had criticized Stella for being "antisocial" gathered at the sacred altar, offering moon-white memorial wreaths.

The most damning evidence was revealed at dusk: the Shaman Association's assessment report.

"Stella Pierce, in her final seventy-two hours, consumed excessive doses of Dark Moon Grass extract to accelerate Lunar Blight progression." The Chief Shaman's voice trembled as he read the report. "This was... a deliberate choice. In full consciousness, she used her life to complete this trial."

Three days later, the funeral.

Over a thousand werewolves gathered on Moonlight Cliff. Stella's body lay in a Silver Wolf Wood coffin, covered with the moonshade cloak she'd earned as a warrior—bearing twenty-seven claw marks, each left protecting the pack.

The Chief Elder delivered the eulogy: "She was our most resilient Luna. Yet we used 'gentleness' as our measure and broke her spine."

Elsa and Ron knelt beside the coffin, crying themselves hoarse. They clutched a freshly opened letter, Stella's words to them containing only two sentences:

"I don't blame you. Just next time... remember to listen to your own daughter's voice first."

As the coffin was lowered, Lewis suddenly broke free from Sebastian's grip and ran to the cliff's edge, looking down.

"Where's Mom Layla?" he asked. "Isn't she coming?"

The crowd suffocated in silence.

Sebastian lifted his son, his voice broken. "Lewis, listen... the person lying here is your real mother."

Lewis tilted his head, studying the coffin for a long time.

"I know," he said. "But she never took me hunting. Mom Layla promised to teach me to catch snow rabbits today."

Elsa covered her mouth and turned away to vomit.

As soil covered the coffin, Sebastian finally collapsed to his knees. He remembered seven years ago, telling Stella: "I'll protect you for life."

She had smiled and replied: "Then it's settled. Whoever breaks their promise will be burned by moonlight for eternity."

Now, the moonlight truly began to burn.

The funeral ended, crowds dispersed. Sebastian stood alone before the tombstone until moonrise.

Lewis was taken home by Elsa, still asking along the way: "Grandma, when will Mom Layla come back? She said she'd make me honey-roasted rabbit."

Elsa's tears dripped onto her grandson's hair.

"She's not coming back, sweetheart."

"Why?" Lewis's voice finally held a trace of unease. "She... doesn't want me anymore?"

No one answered.

Moonlight illuminated the tombstone like a claw mark that would never heal.