My Alpha Wants Two Lunas? I'M Done (Laila and Holt) novel Chapter 295

Chapter 295 Maris, You Will Suffer Forever

Third–person POV:

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Victoria had 30,000 dollars sent over to the injured commoner as compensation, and just like that, the matter was closed.

But word of it reached Elara very quickly.

She summoned Victoria to her chambers.

“Have you investigated this thoroughly? Was the hand actually severed by one of our people? Better not be some scammer cutting off his own hand to come milk us for money.”

Victoria said, “Mom, please don’t be mad. No one else is going to come trying to extort us. The man was definitely sent by Laila. And Maris has already gone with Holt to Blackrock Pack to apologize. The whole thing will be over very soon.”

“What? The dung–throwers who’ve been showing up day after day–they were sent by Laila?” Elara’s brow twitched. Rage flashed in her eyes.

Victoria recounted seeing Laila at the gates that day. The old woman couldn’t contain her fury. “That girl… why won’t she just leave Ironclaw Pack alone? She won’t be satisfied until every last one of us is dead.”

Watching Elara curse Laila out, Victoria felt both vindicated and reassured. “A heart that black–she’ll get what’s coming to her.”

Ever since arriving at Ironclaw Pack, she’d carried a quiet, persistent unease.

From the moment she stepped into the role of Luna, neither Elara nor Freya had seemed particularly satisfied with her.

Holt himself never said anything outright–but in his quieter moments, when he was lost in thought, he always carried this cold, distant air around her.

And the household servants–even the butler–had never once spoken a single bad word about Laila.

When Victoria tried to lead them, ever so subtly, into criticizing her, they would still insist that Laila had been a good Luna.

Even Daphne had once said outright that she wished Laila were still here.

It was as if Victoria could never measure up to Laila. No matter what she did.

But now–now she was the Luna of Ironclaw Pack.

She had contributed money. She had contributed her time and effort.

And yet, in the hearts of everyone here, the name they kept whispering was still Laila’s.

She couldn’t help but think, If only her former mate, Terrence Woods, hadn’t died…

Blackrock Pack.

After Maris had delivered her cold, perfunctory apology, Margaret–the former Luna–said, “This isn’t something I’ve taken to heart. Whatever you do in this world, there will always be people who praise you and people who condemn you. I’m too old to care about

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Chapter 295 Maris, You Will Suffer Forever

any of it.”

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Maris’s expression turned mocking. “Mrs. Odonnell, why bother with the polite formalities? If you really didn’t care, then why, the last time we came here, did you have Alpha Connor turn us away at the gates?”

“Maris!” Holt broke into a cold sweat. He whipped around to her, voice low and warning. “Shut up.”

Margaret gave Maris a long, considering look. “Maris, I didn’t know you’d come the last time. If I had, I would have told you the same thing I’m telling you now–there’s no need to come here and make apologies. You haven’t insulted me. You’ve only insulted yourself.

“In my long life, I’ve seen all kinds of people. The capable and the useless. The humble and the arrogant. I’ve met the truly evil, and I’ve met the truly kind. And I’ve met more than a few twisted souls like you.”

“Twisted?” Maris let out a cold laugh. Anger glinted in her eyes. “How am I twisted? Please, do enlighten me.”

“Refusing to acknowledge your own failures. Blaming them on someone else. Always feeling that fortune has wronged you, that things should have gone differently. That endless grudge against someone you want to surpass. All that scheming over how to even the score, just so the world will finally see you differently.”

Margaret shook her head slowly. “But why tie yourself in knots over any of it? If you beat that person, will her life become miserable? If you beat her, will yours become joyful? No. Your sorrows mean nothing to her. Her happiness has nothing to do with you. You haven’t left so much as a scratch on her heart–and yet she lives in yours, day and night, tormenting you. Tell me is that not twisted?”

Maris’s face shifted. Margaret’s words had landed like blades, straight into the deepest part of her.

Every word, dead–on accurate.

She had been searching, ceaselessly, for an opportunity to defeat Laila–any opportunity–just to prove she was the better one.

The thought tormented her, day and night.

She couldn’t sleep. She could barely eat. Every day, the rage burned in her chest.

And the woman she despised so completely, the woman she hated with such consuming intensity didn’t even register her existence?

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