Ch. The Rejected Luna’s Secret 127 The Rejected Luna’s Secret 127

Chapter 1 

Stepping onto the sacred werewolf tribunal stone, a massive screen instantly floods with live comments and trial updates. Beneath the platform, silver runes pulse with an eerie blue glow 

In the audience stands, members from all major packs-the Northern Border, Crimson Flame, and Silver Moon-filled the seats. A heavy, tense atmosphere hung in the air. 

“She’s the first she-wolf to dare face the tribunal alone!” 

“A guilty werewolf will only bow when the evidence is irrefutable!” 

“The trial begins now!” 

Before the ceremony officially started, a werewolf judge in a black robe, seated beside the Alpha’s tribunal, gave me one final warning. 

“Defendant, do you fully understand the process of this trial, its severity, and the consequences that may follow? Do you willingly accept the judgment of the Sacred Tribunal?” 

If found guilty, I would be executed immediately with the Silverblade Resting Rite. Both my body and soul would be handed over to my blood kin. 

My corneas and heart would be removed and sent to save the girl seated at the plaintiff’s table- Isabelle, “sister” of mine. 

In the plaintiff’s stand sat my own flesh and blood. Their eyes burned with undisguised loathing, radiating the cold certainty of victory. 

I didn’t understand. I was their trueborn daughter, their own blood-yet for ten long years, they had tormented me, belittled me, cast me aside like refuse. 

And now, even my eyes was to be taken from me. 

Sometimes, I truly wondered if the girl beside them-Isabelle, hiding under her sunglasses and mask, was the one they really considered their child. 

I couldn’t see her expression, but I could feel her wolf aura wondering in the shadows, filled with uneasy longing. 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the iron-scented air. When I opened them again, I looked straight at the judge, my gaze sharp as a blade. 

“Let’s begin.” 

The judge turned toward the plaintiff’s side. 

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“Plaintiffs, do you fully understand the-” 

“No need to repeat it!” my mother screeched, her voice sharp as a crow’s cry “We’re her biological 

parents-we won’t lose!” 

“Start the trial now! Isabelle doesn’t have much time!” 

The Sacred Tribunal commenced. 

First charge: The defendant has willfully neglected her filial duties, abandoning her ailing fathe 

while gallivanting abroad, selfish to the bone. 

The screen showed my mother’s tearful testimony. “Our family may belong to the mighty 

Silvermoon Pack,” she choked out, “but we’re at the bottom rung. Her father was a border guard 

drenched in blood day after day, all to fund her education.” 

“But when he fell seriously ill and was bedridden, she allegedly used her studies as an excuse to 

stay away, never once visiting him or sending money in time, resulting in his permanent disability.” 

The wolves in the audience roared with outrage. The live comments overflowed with hateful messages, which even made the judge furrow his brow. 

“She’s heartless!” 

“She doesn’t deserve to have werewolf blood!” 

My parents on the plaintiff’s side looked smug, and Isabelle lifted her chin slightly, as if already 

celebrating victory. 

I stepped forward and sat in the judgment chair. The staff quickly fitted me with a memory 

extraction device. A low electrical hum buzzed from the apparatus as silver needles pierced into the 

side of my skull, sending searing pain straight to my soul. 

I clenched my jaw, refusing to make a sound. 

A few seconds later, several glowing golden words appeared on the screen: 

“Innocent.” 

The screen exploded with live comments. Hundreds of lines flooded in: 

“What?! How is that possible?!” 

My mother’s head dropped, her face turning pale. 

What the screen played were my memories. 

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i was ten when Isabelle first came to our home. 

A car crash had taken her parents’ lives-her father had been my father’s brother So, in the name of “bloodline responsibility,” my father brought her home, and my mother welcomed her with 

open arms. 

From that day on, my life became a living hell. 

Anything Isabelle liked, whether it was my textbooks or notebooks, had to be given to her 

I once tried to take back something that belonged to me, pleading, “The teacher will scold me…” 

My father slapped me across the face without hesitation. 

“Her parents are dead! What’s the big deal about giving her a notebook?” 

Before the SSAT, Isabelle had her eye on every pen in my pencil case. 

I refused to give them to her. 

My father beat me with a broom. 

“Ungrateful little brat! It’s just a pen. Give it to Isabelle!” 

I screamed in pain, but my mother simply cradled Isabelle, soothing her as she cried. 

“That’s ok, dear. Don’t cry. I’ll buy you a brand-new set.” 

Isabelle sniffled, her eyes red. “But… those pens look just like the ones my mom gave me for my 

birthday…” 

Shaking all over, I grabbed my pencil case with trembling hands and sobbed, “Stop hitting me! You can have them–all of them! I don’t want any of it!” 

I never made it to the test that day. 

I got a zero on the SSAT and lost my chance to go to high school. 

“You’re too stupid for school anyway,” my father scoffed. But when he looked at Isabelle, his voice turned gentle. 

“Not like Isabelle-she’s always in the top ten of her class.” 

But I was the one who had been top of the class. 

I… was the real genius she-wolf. 

Chapter 1