The Discarded Luna

Back off Uncle

Nadia's POV

My spine went rigid the moment I heard Rhydian's voice, his boots hit the marble floor. I had heard that walk before, heavy and fast, that only came out when he was seconds away from losing control of his wolf. My eyes darted to his hands. They were already shaking at his sides.

He crossed the space between us in three strides and knocked his uncle's hand clean off Seraphine's shoulder.

"Back off," he growled, his jaw tight, his eyes flashing gold for a second before settling back to their usual deep brown.

Uncle Killian only smiled wider. He took a slow step back, hands raised like he was innocent, though the amusement dancing in his eyes said otherwise.

"Where did you dig this one up?" Killian asked, tilting his chin toward Seraphine without even looking at her directly, as if she were beneath the effort of a full glance. "A runt, playing dress-up as your mate?"

My stomach twisted at the word. I did not know why it bothered me. I wanted to hate her too. But hearing Killian say it out loud made something ugly curl inside my chest.

Rhydian's fists closed tighter. "Watch your mouth. Do not call her that again."

Killian laughed, the sound bouncing off the tall walls of the hallway. "Or what? You're already so desperate to keep your seat that you went and grabbed the first stray you found. Tell me, nephew, is that fear I smell on you? Scared I'll finally take back what should have been mine?"

I watched Rhydian's throat move as he swallowed hard, his hands trembling now, not from weakness, but from the effort of holding himself back.

Killian's gaze slid toward me, and something in his smile shifted, turned almost gentle, almost pitying.

"You should have chosen Nadia," he said, stepping closer to me, his voice dropping low enough that it felt like a secret shared only between us, though everyone in that hallway heard it clearly. "Why go through all this trouble for someone so undeserving, when you already had someone standing right here, ready?"

My chest tightened. My hands curled into the fabric of my dress at my sides. I wanted to look away from Seraphine, but my eyes kept dragging back to her, taking in every small detail Killian's words had already pointed out. She was standing there, silent, her face pale, and for a moment I almost felt something close to satisfaction watching her shrink under his words.

Almost.

Because underneath that, my own anger was louder, sharper, aimed at two people at once. At Rhydian, for looking at her the way he had never once looked at me. And at her, for standing in the exact spot I had imagined myself standing in for years.

Killian was Rhydian's uncle, the younger brother of Rhydian's late father. Since the day Rhydian took the throne, Killian had spent every waking moment trying to pry it out of his hands. He had tried through the council. He had tried through old alliances. He had tried through whispers planted in the ears of pack elders. One by one, Rhydian had shut every door Killian tried to open.

The only door left was the law itself. Pack law was clear. A new Alpha King had to claim a mate before the next full moon, or the throne would be stripped from him and handed to the next bloodline in line. That full moon was tomorrow night.

Killian had been counting on Rhydian failing that condition. He had been counting on standing in this very hallway tomorrow, watching Rhydian lose everything.

Instead, Rhydian had walked in with Seraphine.

My jaw clenched just thinking about it. I had done everything. I had stood beside Rhydian at every pack meeting, trained beside him, waited outside his office late into the night just to catch a few extra minutes of his attention. I had made myself impossible to ignore, or so I thought. And still, somehow, it was not enough. It was never enough.

I stared at Seraphine again, searching for whatever it was Rhydian saw in her. I could not find it. She was not more beautiful than me. She was not stronger, not sharper, not more graceful. If anything, standing there trembling under Killian's words, she looked like she barely belonged in this hallway, let alone at Rhydian's side.

So why her?

The question burned in my chest, hot and unanswered, while the argument between Rhydian and Killian kept climbing louder around me.

"You think claiming some nobody erases years of doubt in this pack?" Killian snapped, his composure finally cracking at the edges. "The elders will see right through this. A mate found days before the deadline? It reeks of desperation."

"The elders will see a completed mate bond," Rhydian shot back, his voice like iron. "That is all the law requires. It does not ask for your approval, Uncle. It never has."

"You forget," Killian said, stepping closer, "I raised you after your father died. I watched you struggle to hold that throne with shaking hands. Do not mistake one lucky mate bond for strength."

"Get out," Rhydian said, each word slow and deliberate, "before I forget you're family."

Killian's eyes flicked toward Seraphine one last time, then back to Rhydian, his smile returning, colder now.

"Careful, nephew. Bonds can be broken just as easily as they're made."

The hallway fell into a heavy silence for a moment. Then Killian turned to leave, his footsteps unhurried, almost lazy, as if he had already won something none of us could see yet.

Right before he reached the door, he stopped. He turned his head slightly, leaned toward Rhydian's ear, and though his voice dropped low, it carried clearly through the quiet hallway for every one of us to hear.

"She won't be here for long, and you know that."

Then he threw his head back and laughed, loud and cold, the sound echoing off the wa

lls long after his footsteps finally disappeared down the corridor