The Sickened Luna's Last Chance novel Chapter 377

**The Perfect 377**

As the days slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass, Brian’s birthday loomed just one week ahead—a date that promised not just cake and candles, but a monumental shift in the hierarchy of Stormhollow. This wasn’t merely a celebration; it was a rite of passage, a moment steeped in the heavy mantle of tradition and expectation. Soon, he would be crowned the Alpha of Stormhollow, a legacy that, in my heart, I knew was never meant for him. The very thought of it weighed heavily on my shoulders, an unbearable burden that threatened to crush me.

Brian, the product of a lineage shrouded in darkness—a mother who reveled in the sinister arts, sacrificing innocent lambs beneath the ancient boughs of the forest—was being groomed to inherit a pack steeped in both power and history. His father, a man who had scarcely mourned my mother before hastily remarrying, had nurtured a future I could scarcely bear to contemplate. How could he, a boy so unfit for leadership, be the one poised to take the reins of Stormhollow? It felt like a cruel joke, a betrayal of everything my mother had fought for.

Stormhollow had once thrived under my mother’s fierce leadership. She had been the rightful heir, a warrior queen in her own right, until she was forced to surrender her power upon marrying my father, her supposed mate. In our world, such sacrifices were not uncommon. The moment she uttered those fateful words, “I do,” the pack shifted from her capable hands to his, a transition that felt more like a theft.

Had destiny been kinder, the pack would have been passed down to me, the rightful female heir, meant to carry forth the legacy of Stormhollow. But fate, it seemed, had conspired against us. With my mother’s untimely death, everything changed. It didn’t matter that she had embodied strength in spirit; the truth was buried beneath the weight of loss. My father seized control, remarried, and in a twisted turn of events, produced Brian with his new wife, Margaret.

In the years that followed, my father allowed the once-mighty pack to wither and decay. He squandered its strength, and now, not only was he preparing to hand the reins to Brian, but he and Margaret were also orchestrating their son’s ascent to the title of Alpha King. The very thought twisted in my stomach like a serpent coiling tighter with each passing day.

“No matter how hard I try, I can’t make sense of this madness,” I whispered to myself, frustration bubbling to the surface. As I yanked the brush through my tangled hair, the sharp tugging was a welcome distraction from the chaos swirling in my mind. “This entire situation reeks of her schemes. Margaret is plotting something sinister, I can feel it deep in my bones. Brian isn’t fit to lead a pack, let alone govern our territories. Surely even she can’t be foolish enough to overlook that.”

With a sharp exhale, I slammed the brush down, my thoughts spiraling back to the boy I had once known. Brian had always been a lazy dreamer, a fool wrapped in the comfort of his privilege, utterly spoiled by our father and his mother. They had meticulously groomed him to be the heir of Stormhollow, as if I, the sole living child of my mother, were nothing more than a ghost haunting their ambitions.

He sauntered through life with an air of entitlement, fully aware that the pack would one day be his, regardless of his complete lack of ambition or understanding of what it truly meant to lead. While I toiled under the weight of expectations, he reveled in a life of parties, women, and reckless abandon, secure in the knowledge that he would inherit everything without lifting a finger.

Meanwhile, I had been shaped into something entirely different—a mere vessel, a pawn to be traded for the wealth that would fund Margaret’s extravagant lifestyle filled with diamonds, pearls, and lavish trips around the world. The moment I reached the age where I could bear children, my father and stepmother began honing me for the roles they envisioned. They stripped away the carefree joys of childhood, molding me into a tool designed solely to serve a man. In their eyes, home was merely a financial transaction.

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