Rejected Omega Was Told to Sing the Luna Hymn as a Joke – But Her Voice Left the Alpha King Speechless
The other two challengers—a cunning older male named Silas and a fierce young female named Brynn—exchanged glances.
Brynn spoke first.
“I accept.”
“Better a riddle than more graves.”
Silas nodded slowly.
“I accept.”
Rourke had no choice.
“Fine.”
“Ask your riddle, little queen.”
I stepped into the center of the square.
Every eye was on me—hostile, curious, desperate.
I had thought of this riddle every night for the last three months.
I thought of it every time I reached for Charles’s wolf and fell short.
It was the one the beast had never answered.
It was the one I now understood completely.
I raised my voice so the entire village could hear.
“I speak without a mouth and hear without ears.”
“I have no body, but I come alive with the wind.”
“I am born in silence, grow in chaos, and die when forgotten.”
“What am I?”
The square went still.
Rourke snarled immediately.
“A storm.”
“No,” I said gently.
Silas frowned, thinking.
“The wind itself.”
“No.”
Brynn closed her eyes.
She listened to something only she could hear.
Minutes passed.
Smoke from burned homes drifted across the square.
Finally Brynn opened her eyes.
“An echo,” she whispered.
The crowd stirred.
I smiled.
“Correct.”
Rourke roared in fury.
“This is nonsense!”
“A child’s game—”
Charles’s power flared, silencing him.
“The queen’s riddle is answered.”
“Brynn speaks true.”
“By ancient law, she is Alpha of Southern Ridge.”
Brynn stared at me, stunned.
She was young, barely twenty-five.
Her eyes held the grief of someone who’d already lost too much in the fighting.
Rourke lunged forward.
He shifted mid-stride.
His teeth aimed at my throat.
Charles moved to intercept.
But I was faster.
I reached through our bond, not to shift, but to borrow.
For the first time, I didn’t try to become the wolf.
I simply let his wolf see through my eyes.
I let it move through my body.
I let it lend me its speed and strength without demanding I change form.
Time slowed.
I stepped aside, fluid and precise.
I caught Rourke’s wrist as he passed in wolf form.
Using his momentum, I threw him ten feet into the dirt.
He landed hard.
The wind was knocked out of him.
He shifted back to human in shock.
The square went dead silent.
I stood over him.
My breathing was steady.
Charles’s wolf lent me power, but my own mind stayed in control.
“Yield,” I said quietly.
Rourke stared up at me.
He truly saw me for the first time.
Then he lowered his gaze.
“I yield… Luna Queen.”
One by one, the entire pack followed.
Heads bowed.
Necks bared.
Brynn approached slowly.
Her eyes shone with tears.
“You didn’t just save my pack,” she said.
“You showed us a new way to be strong.”
She knelt—not in submission, but in respect.
She pressed her forehead to my hand.
Behind her, the pack echoed the gesture.
Charles stepped to my side.
Pride radiated from him.
Later that night, around a roaring bonfire, the pack celebrated their new alpha.
They celebrated the end of bloodshed.
Charles pulled me close.
“You didn’t shift,” he murmured against my hair.
“No,” I said, smiling.
“I didn’t need to.”
“I just needed to be exactly who I am—with a little help from the wolf who loves me.”
He laughed softly.
“You borrowed without breaking yourself.”
“That’s rarer than any shift.”
Brynn approached.
She offered two carved wooden cups of honey wine.
“To the Luna Queen who taught us that wisdom can silence claws,” she toasted.
The pack howled in agreement.
It was a joyous, unified sound that echoed off the mountains.
Charles raised his cup.
“To my mate.”
“My heart.”
“My equal in every way that matters.”
We drank under the full moon.
Snow began to fall again—soft, blessing flakes that melted on warm skin.
In that moment, surrounded by a pack that had chosen peace over violence, respect over tradition, and unity over hierarchy, I finally understood.
I had never been broken.
I had always been whole—just waiting for the world to catch up.
The wolfless Luna Queen who tamed a beast, ended a war with a riddle, and proved that the greatest strength is the courage to love and lead exactly as you are.
And somewhere far away, in her hidden cottage, Morgana Wilson smiled at the scrying bowl one last time.
“Redemption,” she whispered again.
This time, for all of us.
The End.
