Fake Heiress True Luna (Irina) novel Chapter 3

Irina’s POV

True to her words, Julie made sure I didn’t have a moment of peace. One day I was the Alpha’s daughter, the next I was a maid. I did everything. I scrubbed the stone floors of the great hall until my knees were raw and the scent of harsh lye soap burned my nostrils, a smell that had never touched my skin before. I polished the silverware for formal dinners I was no longer permitted to attend, my reflection warped and small in the curved surface of a spoon—a pathetic, servile creature I didn't recognize.

The pack watched. Some with pity that they quickly masked when others were near. Most with cold indifference, or worse, a smug sense of justice served. I was a living lesson, a reminder of what happened to those who overstepped.

But it was the private moments, inside the family wing, that were the most exquisite torture.

“Irina! This tea is cold,” Julie’s voice would sing out from the sitting room, a false sweetness coating every word. “Be a dear and fetch a fresh pot. And do try to be quicker this time. I’m so parched.”

My mother. No, I couldn’t call her that anymore. Luna Rosette, sat by her side, with a photo album open on her lap. “Oh, don’t trouble her, Julie darling,” she’d say, but her hand would be stroking Julie’s hair, her eyes never leaving the daughter she’d just found. The correction was a formality, nothing more.

“It’s no trouble, Mother,” Julie would purr, her eyes locking with mine as I took the teacup. They were hard and glittering with malice. “Irina doesn’t mind. Do you?”

“No,” I’d whisper, the word ash in my mouth. “I don’t mind.”

I would turn to leave, and Luna Rosette’s voice would stop me, soft and distant. “Irina, when you come back, could you bring the blue album? The one from when she was a baby? We want to see what we missed.”

I’m not sure if she is losing her mind or trying to convince herself that Julie was here when she was a baby. She is showing her my photos while pretending she is me.

Julie was taking everything that was once mine.

The worst was the clothing. Julie’s closet was now filled with my old dresses, my favorite sweaters, my riding boots. She would often call me in to help her choose an outfit.

“This one is lovely, don’t you think?” she’d ask, holding up a deep blue gown I had worn to the last pack solstice celebration. Lancer had told me I looked like the moon come to life. “It’s a shame it was wasted on you for all these years. It fits the true heir so much better, doesn’t it?”

She’d watch me, hungry for a reaction, as I stood with my hands clasped, my eyes downcast. Theia disappeared for a couple of days, she needed some time to process what happened, and now that she was back she would pace like crazy inside me, telling me to shift so she could put her in her place.

One afternoon, I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing the hearth in her bedroom fireplace. The ashes from last night’s fire were stubborn, clinging to the stone. My hands were blackened, my nails cracked and filled with grime.

Julie was sitting at her vanity—my old vanity—brushing her long, ashy-blond hair. Our eyes met in the mirror.

“You know,” she said conversationally, “I used to dream of having a sister. Someone to brush my hair. To tell my secrets to.” She set the brush down and turned, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “I suppose this is the next best thing. You can brush my hair, Irina. Come here.”

I rose stiffly, my knees protesting. I took the brush from her hand.

“Be gentle,” she cooed. “My scalp is very sensitive. A real Alpha’s daughter has a more… refined constitution.”

I began to brush, my movements mechanical.

“Mmm, that’s nice. You’re quite good at this. Perhaps you found your true calling after all.” She let the silence hang for a few moments before speaking again, her voice dropping, meant only for my ears. “He asks about you, you know.”

My hand stilled for a fraction of a second before I forced it to continue.

“Lancer,” she clarified, as if I might have thought she meant someone else. “He’s so devoted to the pack, so strong. The perfect Beta. He tells me he’s so relieved the Moon Goddess showed him the truth before the mating bond was cemented. He says he pities you, of course. But he’s so looking forward to serving his real Luna.”

The brush trembled in my hand. It was a lie. It had to be a lie. I hadn’t seen Lancer since that day, but now that she is mentioning him…

She must have felt the tremor, because her smile widened. I knew how to keep my temper in check, how to pretend that everything was fine, but Lancer’s wound was still fresh, and she was making sure I felt the pain.

“I suggest we leave personal business aside, I’m only a maid after all,” I replied, keeping my tone flat so she wouldn’t notice my pain.

I kept my strokes even, my face a mask of empty servitude. But inside, Theia was clawing at my ribs, a snarl building in our throat.

Julie’s smile in the mirror was one of pure triumph. She had drawn blood without laying a finger on me. She closed her eyes again, basking in her victory.

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