The Drunk Night
Caroline's POV
Tomorrow would be the night of the marking ceremony—the night Camilla would become Luna of the Moonlight Pack.
Everyone was excited. The elders spoke of how blessed the pack would be with Camilla as Luna. Father glowed with pride. Even the she-wolves whispered in admiration of her grace and composure.
"Perfect Luna material," they called her.
And what did they say about me?
Nothing.
The second twin, the fiery one and the troublemaker. The one who flirted too much, laughed too loudly, spoke too boldly.
Camilla always followed the rules, always spoke when spoken to, always bowed her head at the right angle. Of course Alpha Michael would choose her, of course Father would be proud and of course the pack would celebrate.
But me? I burned inside.
Jealousy wasn't a small flicker—it was a roaring fire that consumed my insides and left me gasping. For days, I tried to push it away. I smiled when people congratulated her.
I braided her hair when she was getting ready. I helped pick out her ceremonial robe. But behind every smile, I was cracking.
It wasn't fair.
It had always been Camilla.
When we were young, the elders said she had a calming aura. When we trained, she was patient and smart, while I was wild and fierce.
The older we got, the more people forgot we were twins. To them, she was the "real" daughter of Jack the warrior and I was the shadow.
I saw the way Alpha Michael looked at her. But I also caught his glances toward me—lingering stares, the way his lips curled slightly when I laughed, the way his eyes followed my hips when I walked past. I wasn't imagining it.
So why not me?
I was everything a Luna should be—bold, beautiful, passionate. I could lead, I could inspire.
Why should Camilla be the chosen one just because she looked like a porcelain doll?
That night, I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed, the moonlight slicing through the window like a blade. My thoughts churned endlessly until a wicked idea slithered into my mind.
What if… he marked me instead?
My heart pounded at the audacity of the thought. But the more I thought about it, the more real it became. The marking bond could only be sealed once—under the full moon, during the ceremonial joining.
But what if he made that bond with the wrong sister?
What if I became Luna?
By dawn, the plan had rooted itself deep in me. It was insane. Desperate and dangerous.
But it was the only way.
That evening, the pack gathered for the ceremony. I watched as Camilla stood next to Michael in the glowing center of the Hall, her robe shimmering like frost. She looked radiant, serene. It made me sick.
I played my part. I smiled for the crowd. I clapped during the speeches. I even hugged her when the elder completed the blessing.
But all the while, my mind was focused on the vial in my pocket—a small dose of moonleaf extract stolen from the healer's hut, strong enough to dull clarity and enhance lust.
Michael's drink awaited him in the ceremonial quarters—where he would go alone, to prepare for the final joining ritual. And I would be waiting.
I reached his quarters just before he arrived.
The guards let me in easily. No one questioned the twin of the future Luna. I slipped the extract into the goblet of wolfberry wine on the table and let the robe slide slightly off my shoulder. Enough skin to tempt, enough resemblance to fool.
The scent of my perfume was the same one Camilla used—lavender and silvermint. I knew every detail of her ritual, her robe, her tone of voice. I didn't need to be perfect, just… convincing.
The door opened.
Alpha Michael entered, his steps heavy, his expression hazy from the ceremony and the alcohol already in his blood.
He didn't seem surprised to see me.
"Camilla…" he murmured, his voice laced with desire.
I stepped closer, eyes lowered. "I've been waiting for you, my Alpha."
He downed the wine. I could see it take effect—the way his pupils dilated, his breath quickened.
He reached for me, his hands burned on my skin.
I let him.
And in the moments that followed, I became his Luna.
Or so I thought.
The morning light was cruel.
I lay tangled in furs, my body sore, my heart pounding with victory. I had done it.
The bond had been made, I was now marked and I was his mate.
I sat up, brushing my hair back, waiting for him to wake and recognize what had happened. Waiting for him to smile, to whisper, "You were always the one."
Instead, his eyes snapped open, and horror immediately clouded them.
"Caroline?" His voice cracked.
My stomach dropped.
"You… You're not Camilla," he rasped, sitting up. "No. No—what have I done?!"
I tried to calm him, to smile, to explain, but he stumbled away from the bed like I was fire.
"Where is she? Where's Camilla?"
I stood, clutching the fur to my chest. "I thought you wanted me."
"I thought you were her!"
"I love you, Michael. I—"
He grabbed his head. "The bond… I sealed it… with the wrong one."
Wrong one.
The words sliced through me like a blade.
I felt exposed. Humiliated and desperate.
Before either of us could speak again, the doors flew open. The elder, Jack and the entire ceremonial guard stood in.
They had heard the shouting. The elder stepped inside, eyes widening as he took in the scene. Then his face turned hard.
"What happened here?" he demanded.
Michael opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Silence swelled like a storm cloud.
Then… he looked at me.
And nodded.
"I… marked Caroline," he said.
The elder gasped. Jack's face drained of all color.
"It's done," Michael, but his face was like gravel...
"She is… my mate now."