The Fated Luna

The cold always got to her first. Not sharp enough to sting,just there. Quiet. Constant. It slipped through the walls and settled into the room like it belonged. Celeste opened her eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling. Frost had crept across the window overnight, thin white lines curling over the glass. The morning light looked softer, distant, unreal. She pushed the blankets back and sat up, letting her feet touch the cold stone floor. She didn’t react. Across the room, the mirror caught her reflection. White hair, slightly tangled, falling over her shoulders. Pale skin. Blue eyes that always looked a little far away, even when she didn’t mean them to. She stood there a moment longer than she needed to, then reached for the brush and pulled it through her hair until it lay smooth. She dressed in something simple, fitted, easy to move in. Nothing that stood out. That part mattered. The pack house was already awake when she went downstairs. Low voices, footsteps, the smell of smoke and breakfast. A predictable morning in the pack house. A few people nodded when they saw her. Someone said her name. She answered politely but didn’t stop walking. She wasn’t really supposed to. “Celeste.” A familiar voice said She paused. Theo. He came up beside her, calm, steady. Light brown hair, eyes just a shade darker, always watching. “You’re almost late,” he said. “I’m not.” “Almost.” She didn’t argue. “You’re ready for training?” he asked. “Yes.” “Good.” No smile. No teasing. Just approval. “Come on,” he added, heading for the doors. Celeste followed. Outside, the air was sharp. Snow covered everything, untouched except for the usual paths. The training grounds were already busy, wolves moving, sparring, keeping warm. Theo stopped and turned to her. “You’re with me today.” “Okay.” He gave her a look. “Focus.” She nodded. “Focused.” That seemed enough. They stepped into the clearing. People shifted out of the way without being asked. Not curiosity. Expectation. Future Alpha. Future Luna. Celeste took her place across from him, shoulders loosening just enough to move. Theo didn’t wait. He came at her fast. She reacted instantly, stepping back, blocking, turning his momentum aside. Clean, practiced movements. They’d done this too many times to count. “You’re slow,” he said. “I’m not.” “Then prove it.” He struck again, harder. She adjusted, forcing him to shift instead. Snow kicked up beneath them. Again. Again. Each time he pushed, she met him. Or tried to. Something felt off. Not her body, she was keeping up. Just, somewhere else. “You’re distracted,” Theo said. Celeste straightened. “No, I’m not.” “You are.” “I’m not.” He watched her for a second. “Then fix it.” Not angry. Just final. Celeste exhaled slowly. “Let’s go again.” This time, she didn’t hold back. Movements sharper, faster, meeting him head on. For a moment, it almost felt real. When they stopped, breathing heavy, Theo studied her. Then nodded. “Better.” That was all. But it still meant something. Most others had cleared out, leaving footprints and dragged lines in the snow. “You’ll need to keep that up,” Theo said behind her. “I will.” He stepped closer. “The ball is tomorrow.” Her stomach tightened. “I know.” “You’ll be with me the whole time.” Not a question. Celeste nodded. “Of course.” He paused. “Then After that, we move forward.” She glanced at him. “The ceremony?” “Yes.” The word sat heavy. She’d known it was coming, decided long before she had a say. Theo reached for her hand like it was natural. She let him take it. Steady. Familiar. Cold. “This is what we’ve been working toward,” he said. Celeste looked down at their hands. Tried to feel something. Something more than understanding. Something real. But there was nothing there except what had always been there. Duty. Expectation. Certainty. She nodded anyway. “I know.” Later, in her room, everything was quiet. Celeste stood in front of the mirror. Same reflection. Same expression. Nothing had changed. She pressed a hand lightly to her chest. Heartbeat even. Too even. “Shouldn’t it feel different?” she murmured. She didn’t know what she meant. She let her hand fall. The room stayed cold. Still. But as she turned away, something shifted. Small. Barely there. Like a flicker of warmth where there shouldn’t be any. Celeste paused. Frowning. Then shook her head. “Just nerves.” It had to be. Because everything was exactly as it should be. And tomorrow, nothing would change.