Fake Heiress True Luna (Irina) novel Chapter 5

Irina’s POV

Julie’s tricks sometimes work, but most of the time they don’t, and some pack members comment about her not being ready to be a Luna or even Beta’s mate. Of course, that put Julie in a foul mood, and the one who had to stand her was me.

At first, all I did was not fall for her tricks, but now I want to help her, not because of her, but because her lack of preparation is ruining the pack’s name.

This was still my pack. These were still my people. I had been raised to prioritize their well-being above all else, and watching Julie fumble and sabotage her own position was like watching a clumsy child set fire to a precious tapestry.

Her failures were becoming the pack's embarrassment. Whispers at patrol changes, skeptical glances during her clumsy attempts at mediating minor disputes—the doubt was a stain spreading through the ranks. A weak Alpha’s daughter was not something to be proud of, that’s why I was trained from a young age.

Some people understand that she didn’t have the right education, but most of them are questioning her ability to lead. The fact that Lancer is right by her side isn’t helping either.

“Is Lancer going after Julie?” A pack member whispered as they saw them walk together.

As her personal maid, I had to be there in case she needed my assistance. It pained me to see my mate trying to get into her bed, but there was nothing I could do.

“Irina might not have been the true daughter, but she made a magnificent job,” Her friend replied.

I wasn’t sure if she had heard them, but after that encounter I decided I couldn’t wait anymore. So, I began to intervene. Not obviously. Not in a way she could ever acknowledge or thank me for.

It happened during a meeting with the pack seamstress. Julie was being fitted for a new gown for the upcoming treaty renewal ceremony with the neighboring Swift River Pack. The seamstress, an elderly she-wolf named Agnes with hands gnarled by decades of work, was patiently trying to explain the symbolic significance of the silver threadwork along the hem.

“It represents the strength of our borders, Miss Julie,” Agnes said, holding up a sample. “A continuous, unbroken line.”

Julie waved a dismissive hand, bored. “It’s scratchy. I want the pink silk with the pearls. It’s prettier.”

Agnes’s face fell. The pink silk was for spring solstice dances, not for solemn treaties. It would send entirely the wrong message—one of frivolity, not strength.

I was dusting a bookshelf nearby, invisible. I paused, and without looking at either of them, I spoke softly to the air. “The Silverfang Pack used silver thread in their treaty garments last year. The Swift River Alpha was said to be most impressed by the show of solidarity and strength.”

Julie’s head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowing. “No one asked you, Irina, don’t forget who is the true Alpha’s daughter.”

But Agnes caught my eye, a flicker of understanding passing between us. She cleared her throat. “The Silverfang Pack, you say? They are a strong ally of Swift River. It would be a shrewd diplomatic choice, Miss Julie. A show of… unified front.”

I saw the calculation in Julie’s eyes. She cared nothing for diplomacy, but she cared deeply for appearances and one-upping others. The idea of outshining another pack’s Luna was a language she understood.

“Fine,” she sniffed, turning back to the mirror. “Use the silver thread. But make sure it sparkles. I want it to catch the light.”

I let out a breath of relief. It may seem small, but all those details mattered, and apparently, my small interventions like this one were noticed.

“The Alpha and Luna are calling for you,” A warrior told me as I finished scrubbing the floors.

I wanted to ask him why. Julie was in a meeting with the Elder of our pack, the same man who brought her here that day, and I was not supposed to intervene.

I stood up and nodded, my damp hands wiping on my apron as I followed the warrior. I didn’t have a good feeling about this.

When I arrived at the Alpha’s study, the air was thick with tension. Alpha Richard sat behind his massive oak desk, his expression stormy. Luna Rosette stood by the window, her posture rigid with anxiety. Julie was perched on a chaise lounge, her arms crossed and a thunderous scowl on her face that she made no effort to hide.

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