The Lunar Queen Chapter 11

Summer POV

Mason disappeared before training even ended, and that alone already has my mood shifting in the wrong direction. I wanted to talk to him about our outfits this weekend when he announces I am his mate.

I look for him in the dining room, but he isn’t there, and Winter is there, but Lyric isn’t.

Of course she isn’t.

I walk across the hall to the game room and peek in—I see him.

I open the door, and when I step inside, my blood boils.

Not just anger—something sharper, more dangerous.

What the fuck is he doing with this freak?

“Mason,” I say.

“Fuck,” I hear him mumble.

The freak knows better than to speak. She taps Mason’s shoulder, signaling him to put her down.

When we make eye contact, the fear that shows in her eyes.

There it is.

Good, she knows there will be consequences for this.

I link Nathaniel.

“Today is the day, stay alert,” I say.

No more warnings. No more patience.

“Mason, what is going on here?” I ask.

Lyric goes to leave the room.

“Lyric, wait,” he says.

“I have to go,” she whispers, running out of the room.

“Summer,” he says, annoyed.

“What do you want?” he asks, anger in his voice.

He’s annoyed. Not guilty. Not apologetic.

That doesn’t sit right.

“I was hoping we could discuss outfits for this weekend, but you were too busy sucking face with my sister to be bothered,” I snap.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he says.

I scoff.

Like I’m stupid. Like I didn’t just see it with my own eyes.

“Oh, please, Mason, I know what I saw,” I say.

“You have been acting weird since your birthday. Get your priorities straight, Mason. Remember who you belong to,” I say before walking out.

Because if he doesn’t remember… I’ll remind him.

Lyric POV

What did I just get myself into?

My heart is still racing—not just from the kiss, but from everything that came after it.

The look on her face tells me I will pay for that kiss. That moment.

I touch my lips because I can still feel his lips on mine.

Like it hasn’t fully faded yet. Like it’s still there, lingering.

“our mate wants us, not Summer,” Nova says, whimpering.

“I know, Nova, but until we can figure out what to do about Summer, things like this can’t happen again,” I say to her.

Even if part of me didn’t want it to stop.

I wait outside for Winter because I’m too wired to stay in the packhouse.

Too exposed. Too visible.

When she finally comes out, she reads me like a book.

“What happened?” she asks.

The fear that grips me when she asks is a new feeling.

Sharper. More immediate.

“Summer walked in on Mason and I kissing in the game room,” I say low.

Her eyes snap to me, studying my face.

“Seriously?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say.

“Oh, Lyric, honey, I’m so sorry. What did she say?” she asks.

“Nothing, but the look she gave me told me everything I needed to know,” I reply, because silence from Summer is never a good sign.

As we pull up to the school, that feeling of dread is stronger now, and my whole body breaks out in a sweat.

It’s not just a feeling anymore. It’s a warning.

You are fine, Lyric, I tell myself.

Even though I don’t believe it.

Winter and I split up. Luckily, I get to my locker without seeing Mason, Hunter, or the guys.

The halls empty faster than usual—almost eerie, like something is off, like I should’ve noticed sooner.

And just like Monday, rough hands seize me from behind, yanking me backward with brutal force into the dim confines of the supply closet.

The door slams shut, sealing me in with my attackers.

No way out. Not this time.

“I told you to stay away from Mason, freak,” Summer hisses, her voice laced with venomous malice that chills me to the bone.

“I tried to stay away from him,” I cry out.

“Shut up, I saw you kissing him, don’t lie to me,” she snaps.

Panic surges as I thrash, but it’s futile—strong fingers rip my shirt open from the back, fabric tearing with a sharp, unforgiving sound echoing in the cramped space.

Another pair of hands clamps down on my arms like iron vices, pinning them behind me, rendering me utterly helpless.

Completely.

Then it comes: a searing, white-hot agony erupts across my skin as the blade bites deep.

The metallic tang of singed flesh hits me first, a nauseating whiff that twists my gut before the full burn of the silver knife sinks in, like liquid fire carving through my flesh.

Cut after merciless cut, slice after deliberate slice, the pain builds into a roaring inferno, each stroke deeper, more vicious than the last.

This isn’t punishment. This is deliberate. Meant to break me.

My vision blurs with tears I refuse to let fall, and I clamp my teeth into my lower lip until it splits, the warm, coppery flood of my own blood filling my mouth, choking back the screams clawing at my throat.

Don’t give her that. Don’t give her the satisfaction.

‘Now that should teach you, freak,’ Summer sneers, her breath hot and ragged against my ear, triumph dripping from every word.

‘Stay the hell away from Mason.’

With that, they release me like discarded trash, and I crumple to the grimy floor in a heap, the impact jarring my fresh wounds into fresh torment.

Alone now in the suffocating blackness, the air thick with the stench of blood and sweat, I can’t summon the strength to move.

The icy concrete leaches the last of my warmth, pressing cruelly against the ragged gashes as hot rivulets of blood ooze out, pooling beneath me in sticky warmth.

Too much. It’s too much.

Time loses all meaning—hours drag by in agonizing slowness, or perhaps it’s only minutes stretched into eternity by the unrelenting throb.

Nothing exists beyond the raw, pulsing pain, the sharp sting of betrayal from someone I should trust.

And the worst part…

is that I knew this was coming.

Because this time… she didn’t just want to warn me.

She wanted to break me.

And if someone doesn’t find me soon…

she just might succeed.