The Discarded Luna’s Second Chance

Chapter 27

I watched Celeste thrash against the enforcers' grip, her composure shredded beyond recognition. The entire pack stared at their golden wolf-girl transformed into something feral and desperate.

"You're all witnessing something important," I said, voice carrying across the stunned silence. "My sister's shocking behavior isn't a reaction to stress. It's the aconite poisoning from earlier wearing through her carefully maintained mask. Beta Alex dosed her heavily during my so-called kidnapping, and now you're seeing what lives beneath the sweetness she's worn for years."

"That's a lie!" Celeste's shriek cut like glass. "Harper's making excuses for drugging me, stealing my personal—"

"Your personal what?" I lifted the diary higher. "These journals I found hidden in your vanity? The ones documenting years of calculated destruction?"

"Those are private!" She lunged against the enforcers' hold. "You had no right to go through my belongings! No right to violate my privacy, my personal boundaries—"

"Silence her," Father commanded. One enforcer clamped a hand over Celeste's mouth, cutting off her protests mid-word. She fought harder, eyes wild with fury and fear.

I reached into the bag, pulling out Dr. Holland's medical files. "My suspicions began with small things—inconsistencies in Celeste's stories, her insistence on preparing my meals, the way she always offered special teas. So I had comprehensive toxicology testing done throughout my pregnancy."

The files crackled as I held them up. "Dr. Sarah Holland's reports show traces of various toxins in my bloodstream. Ginger when I'm severely allergic. Small amounts of aconite. Other substances that individually might be dismissed as accidental exposure, but together paint a very different picture."

"How can someone systematically poison someone else without anyone noticing?" Gamma James called from the back.

"A sister's care is beyond doubt. She insisted on making my meals. Who brought me tea every morning. Who volunteered to help with everything, always present, always helpful." I met Celeste's eyes over the enforcer's restraining hand. "Always poisoning."

The medical files passed through eager hands as wolves examined the evidence. Whispers built like a rising tide.

"I could tell you what these journals contain," I said. "But perhaps the pack would prefer to hear Celeste's own words? Her private thoughts about her beloved sister?"

"Read it!" someone shouted.

"Let us hear!" another voice joined.

The chorus swelled until Father raised his hand for silence. "The pack has spoken. Proceed, Harper."

I opened the first diary, flipping to entries I'd photographed weeks ago. Celeste's muffled screams intensified behind the enforcer's palm.

"Age twelve," I began, my voice steady despite the fury burning in my chest. "Quote: 'Harper thinks she's so special because she's the eldest. But I've decided something important today. Everything she has, everything she thinks is hers, will rot. Every triumph will turn to ashes. Every person who loves her will learn to hate her instead. This is my purpose. This is my mission.'"

Gasps rippled through the hall. I turned pages, finding worse.

"Age fifteen: 'Successfully planted the stolen necklace under Harper's pillow. Father beat her so severely she couldn't walk for three days. Mother looked at her with such disappointment. It was beautiful.'"

Mother's sharp intake of breath cut through the murmurs. I glanced at my mother's face—pale, stricken, the perfect world she'd believed in crumbling with each word.

"More recent entries document her affair with Weston," I continued, flipping forward. "Quote: 'Even when Weston is having sex with Harper, he recalls fucking me in a hotel room.'"

The pack erupted. Snarls mixed with shouts of outrage, wolves surging forward before enforcers restored order. Celeste's eyes rolled white with terror as the crowd's fury focused like a blade.

"Wait." I held up my hand, flipping through pages. "There's more. An entry I haven't seen before—fresh ink, recent date."

My fingers trembled as I found the passage. The handwriting was Celeste's but rushed, excited.

"I should read this carefully," I said, forcing my voice steady. "Listen to what your golden wolf-girl wrote just days ago."

The hall went silent enough to hear individual heartbeats.

"Quote: 'Ava's getting older now. Soon she'll be walking, talking properly. That's when I'll stage the accident. A fall down the stairs perhaps, or drowning in the lake. I'll time it for when Harper's alone with her, make it look like neglect. Frame the incompetent mother one final time before taking everything that should have been mine from the start. Weston will need comfort. Father will need someone reliable. And Harper will either be dead or locked away where she belongs.'"

The words hung like poison gas. My vision blurred red at the edges as rage consumed rational thought. My wolf screamed for blood, claws and fangs and the satisfaction of tearing out my sister's throat.

Because I knew.

In another life—in the life I'd already lived—Celeste had succeeded. She'd paid someone to hold three-year-old Ava underwater while Weston fucked her upstairs. My daughter had died because my sister planned it, funded it, celebrated it.

And here in this timeline, she'd written the blueprint to do it again.

"She planned to murder my daughter," I said, voice shaking with barely contained violence. "Not in some fit of passion or moment of rage. She wrote it down like a grocery list. Calculated the timing. Chose the method. All while smiling in my face and calling herself Ava's loving aunt."

Celeste made sounds behind the enforcer's hand—desperate, animalistic noises that might have been denials or pleas.

"TRIAL!" someone roared from the back.

"JUSTICE!" another voice joined.

The pack erupted into a tsunami of fury. Demands for blood, for punishment, for the traitor's execution crashed against the walls. Wolves pressed forward, faces twisted with rage at the betrayal of their future Luna, the attempted murder of their Alpha's heir.

"She tried to poison Harper while carrying Weston's child!" Gamma James's voice boomed. "That's not just treachery against family—it's an attack on pack succession!"

Father stood frozen on the dais, his Beta authority useless against the mob's righteous fury. Mother clutched Ava tighter, tears streaming as she stared at her youngest daughter with dawning horror.

"The journals document everything," I called over the chaos, holding up the remaining diaries. "Years of systematic destruction. Falsified evidence. Manipulated relationships. Deliberate poisoning. And the planned murder of an innocent child."

The pack's roar intensified, wolves demanding immediate justice, calling for traditional punishment, insisting on blood debt for crimes against their own.

Celeste's muffled screams dissolved into sobs as she finally understood. The mask had shattered. The truth stood exposed. And an entire pack bayed for her blood.