Reborn As My Alpha's Luna

Tessa woke in a room so silent it felt abandoned by time.

She blinked slowly, lashes heavy, lids sticky with sleep. Her head throbbed with a deep, pulsing ache behind her eyes, waves of pain that rolled through her skull like distant thunder. The ceiling above her was smooth gray stone, cracked in places like spider webs, like it had held centuries of silence. Ancient fissures spread across the surface, telling stories of age and endurance. There were no windows. The single light came from a faintly glowing crystal fixed high in one corner, casting pale shadows that danced and writhed, making the room feel more like a crypt than a bedroom.

The air carried no scent. No wind. No warmth. Just stillness that pressed against her skin like a living thing.

Her limbs felt too heavy, her body too hot. Sweat beaded along her hairline, trickling down her temple in slow, warm trails. When she tried to sit, her arms trembled under her own weight, muscles weak and unsteady as if she'd been bedridden for weeks. It took effort to drag herself upright against the cool headboard, each movement sending sharp pains through her joints. The sheets beneath her were thin and sterile, rough against her fevered skin. Her throat tasted of metal and dust, coating her tongue with bitter residue that made her want to gag.

She ran her tongue across her lips, dry, cracked. Her mouth felt like cotton.

Then she turned.

A man stood in the far-left corner.

Motionless.

Silent.

Like he had been there the whole time, a statue carved from shadow and patience.

Tessa's scream cut the silence in half. It tore from her throat raw and instinctual, echoing off the stone walls in sharp, desperate waves. Her back hit the cold wall with a slam that sent shockwaves through her spine. She was still gasping, heart hammering against her ribs like a caged bird, when he appeared at her bedside, instantly, impossibly. She hadn't seen him move. One moment he was across the room, the next he was beside her, close enough that she could feel the coolness radiating from his skin.

"There's no need to scream, ma'am," he said calmly. His voice was smooth. Too smooth. Like silk draped over steel.

She blinked. Her breath came in ragged bursts that burned her lungs. "Who are you?"

"I'm your personal aide," he replied with a courteous smile that never reached his eyes. "Assigned by the Alpha. You've been unconscious for two days."

"Two days?" she echoed. Her voice cracked like brittle glass.

He nodded slowly, deliberately. "You were sedated. The transition is usually difficult for humans. It helps them... adjust."

She pressed a hand to her forehead. Her skin was clammy, cold sweat mixing with the fever heat that radiated from within. Her memory floated in fragments, pieces of a puzzle scattered by wind. "Adjust to what? Where am I?"

"You're in the Alpha's estate."

The words settled around her like chains. Estate. The word felt too civilized for whatever this place was, with its stone walls and crystal light and air that tasted of secrets.

"I'm hallucinating," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I saw wolves, giant wolves turning into men."

"You didn't hallucinate."

Her head snapped toward him. "What did you say?"

He met her gaze directly, unflinching. "It was real."

She sat in stunned silence, the weight of his words pressing down on her chest. The fever made everything feel distant, dreamlike, but his certainty cut through the haze like a blade.

"If you have questions," he said gently, though his gentleness felt practiced, rehearsed, "I'll answer what I can... within my bounds."

Tessa gripped the edge of the blanket. Her hands were shaking, from fever, from fear, from the terrible certainty that her world had shifted on its axis. Her voice wavered when she spoke. "Who is Logan?"

The aide's smile spread slow and knowing, like honey poured over broken glass. "Soon, you'll understand who he is. And who we are."

The weight of that sentence settled on her chest like stone. She dropped her face into her palms, rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, breathed through the fog in her brain that made thinking feel like swimming through mud.

Then, softly, like a prayer or a confession: "Do you know who I am?"

The man tilted his head, studying her with the intensity of a predator evaluating prey. "No."

She swallowed hard, tasting metal again. "Who is Liyara?"

Everything about him froze.

His pupils constricted to pinpricks.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

"What did you just say?" he whispered, and for the first time, his composure cracked.

"Liyara. I... I don't know why. It came to me. Maybe in a dream. Or maybe it's who I was. Before." The name felt familiar on her tongue, like coming home to a place she'd never been.

He stepped back, stumbling slightly, stunned. "That name is forbidden."

"Then you do know it." She watched his face carefully, saw the flicker of recognition, of fear.

He shook his head slowly, as if trying to dislodge something from his thoughts. "I need to inform the Alpha."

"Alpha," she repeated, voice sharper now, gaining strength. "Go get him."

He nodded once, sharp and decisive, and disappeared through the door like smoke.

Tessa didn't wait.

Her feet hit the cold floor with a shock that traveled up her legs. No shoes. The tiles felt alive beneath her toes, too smooth, too silent, like walking on the surface of a frozen lake. Her balance was still off, the world tilting slightly with each step, but panic fueled her movements. She darted toward the door and stepped into the corridor.

The hall was dim, torch-lit. Stone walls stretched long on either side, disappearing into shadows that seemed to breathe. Strange blue fire licked up the sconces, casting everything in an otherworldly glow. Everything smelled of ash and old metal, of secrets buried deep in stone.

She didn't know where she was going. She didn't care.

She ran.

Left. Then right. Her bare feet slapped against the cold stone, each step echoing through the endless corridors. A winding staircase spiraled downward, and she took the steps two at a time, her hand trailing along the rough wall for balance. Another hallway opened before her, stretching into darkness. She moved quickly, heart pounding against her ribs, breath coming in short gasps that misted in the cool air.

Then

A noise.

Low. Rhythmic. Breathless moaning that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat.

Tessa froze, her feet rooted to the cold stone.

It came from behind a thick wooden door just ahead, heavy and ancient, with iron hinges that looked like they'd been forged centuries ago.

She edged toward it, each step deliberate. Curiosity mixed with dread, creating a cocktail of anticipation that made her stomach clench. Her hand reached for the knob, fingers trembling as they extended toward the cold metal.

Before she could touch it, a hand seized her waist.

She gasped, twisted

But she was caught.

Logan.

Shirtless. Sweat dampened the edges of his dark hair, making it curl against his forehead. His skin glistened faintly in the firelight, bronze and perfect, every muscle defined like he'd been carved from marble. His eyes glowed softly in the dim light, not quite human, not quite animal.

His hold was firm, possessive. Her back pressed against his chest, and she could feel the heat radiating from his skin, could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her spine. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Little human," he said, voice a low growl that rumbled through his chest and into her bones. "You're not supposed to be here."

She trembled, caught between fear and something else, something that made her pulse quicken for entirely different reasons. "I—I was just—"

"Out of your room," he finished. His tone wasn't angry. But it wasn't amused either. It was something darker, more dangerous.

His fingers curled slightly at her waist, anchoring her against him. She could feel the strength in his hands, the careful control he exercised. Her breath hitched.

"I needed answers," she whispered.

Logan leaned close, his breath warm against her neck. His lips brushed just behind her ear, sending electric shocks down her spine.

"You'll get them," he murmured, his voice like velvet over steel.

And then, slower, darker, with a hint of something predatory:

"You like what you see?"