Marked By The Four

Chapter 2 - The Luna’s Place

The sun hadn’t yet set when I found myself back in the dining hall, overseeing preparations for the Alpha’s formal dinner. Candles had been replaced, silver polished so precisely that I could see my reflection in each spoon. Servants scurried about like ants, carrying trays, decanters, bread baskets.

It was my duty to make sure everything ran smoothly. My title may not have been earned by blood, but by bond, by vow, by Luna’s grace. And I have always taken it seriously.

The omegas adored me for it. They knew I remembered their names, their children, their struggles. I wasn’t above kneeling to show a girl how to properly fold linen. I wasn’t above carrying platters when their hands were too full.

As I walked the hall, heads bowed respectfully, but eyes - ah, eyes followed me with something warmer than mere obedience. Love. Trust. And in return, I gave them my smile, my gentle touch on the arm, my whispered reassurance when nerves got the better of them.

The role of Luna was never meant to be a crown. It was meant to be a shield.

But even as I moved among them, correcting a centerpiece here, steadying a tray there, my chest felt heavy. Like I was playing a role in a play where the script had changed behind my back.

“Lady Evelynn,” a young omega called, clutching a roll of parchment. “The seating - would you approve?”

I leaned over, scanning the carefully inked names. The High Elder is on Varrick’s right, of course. My place is on his left. The visiting beta pair across from us. Everything perfect. “Yes,” I murmured. “You’ve done well, Lysa.”

Her cheeks flushed at the praise. “Thank you, my Luna.”

I felt the word like a stone in my stomach. My Luna. It should have been a balm. Instead, it only reminded me that my mate - the one who made me Luna - hadn’t kissed me in weeks.

Later, I stood in my chambers, staring at my reflection.

The mirror was tall, gold-framed, the kind that revealed everything. My pale skin glowed in the candlelight, my hair falling in waves on my back. I wore the gown I’d chosen - emerald silk, cut low across my collarbones, clinging at the waist before flowing down.

It was the kind of dress meant to command attention without begging for it. And yet, as I stared at myself, I wondered who I was dressing for.

Not for Varrick. He barely looked at me these days. Not for myself - I hardly recognized the woman gazing back. A stranger who had once been adored.

My lips curved in a bitter smile. “Pull yourself together,” I whispered to my reflection.

When I entered the hall, the room shifted. Conversations faltered, eyes turned. I walked with measured steps, shoulders square, chin high. If my mate would not honor me, then I would damn well honor myself.

That’s when I saw him - Aldric.

He stood near the far end of the hall, dressed in black, broad shoulders cutting a sharp figure against the pale stone walls. His position was always near, yet not too near. Ever vigilant. Head Warrior. Protector of the Alpha… and of the Luna.

But tonight his gaze lingered. Not just protective. Not just dutiful.

His eyes roamed down the line of my dress, then flicked up, as if caught doing something forbidden.

A jolt shot through me, heat coiling in my belly. I swallowed hard, forcing my expression to remain serene. He wasn’t mine to think about. I wasn’t his to look at that way.

Still… he did. That stirred something in me. Regret? I couldn't name this feeling.

The dinner began smoothly. Platters passed, wine poured, polite conversation humming. I played my part with practiced ease, engaging the elders, laughing when required, guiding the flow like a conductor of a symphony.

Until Varrick spoke.

“My Luna has been overly concerned with details, as usual,” he said, his tone light but sharp enough to draw blood. “She forgets that warriors care little about flower arrangements.”

Laughter rippled among the men at the table.

I froze. My fork hovered midair. The insult was subtle enough to pass as jest, but pointed enough to remind me: Sit down. Stay in your place.

I smiled, brittle but bright. “True,” I said smoothly. “But even warriors prefer their meat cooked through, and their wine not sour. Details matter, Alpha.”

More laughter - this time on my side of the table. I caught Aldric’s eyes flicker, just for a heartbeat, admiration glinting before his gaze returned to his plate.

Varrick’s jaw tightened. He raised his goblet, and the conversation shifted. But the damage was done. Inside, my chest burned. He had humiliated me in front of the pack and guests. And yet I could not lash out. Not yet.

The meal wound down with laughter and flushed faces as wine flowed freely. Goblets clinked, the musicians struck up a low tune, and the great hall shifted from formality into revelry.

“Dance, my friends,” Varrick announced, rising with his goblet raised. His smile looked carved in stone. “Tonight we celebrate strength and unity.”

The warriors roared their approval. The first couples swept into the center, gowns rustling, boots striking the stone floor.

I stayed seated a moment too long, sipping the last of my wine. My mate’s shadow fell across me before he spoke.

“Come, Evelynn.” Varrick extended a hand, but the words carried no warmth, no invitation. More like a command dressed in silk.

My spine straightened. Luna does not refuse her mate.

Placing my hand in his, I rose, letting him lead me into the circle. The music swelled, a graceful waltz that demanded intimacy.

But his hand on my waist was stiff, his other hand clamped over mine like iron. We moved perfectly, precisely - like two well-oiled gears in a machine. A beautiful lie.

“Smile,” he murmured low enough for only me. “They’re watching.”

I did. My lips curved, but inside, ice spread through me.

We twirled beneath the chandeliers, emerald silk fanning around me. To any onlooker, we were flawless. But every step reminded me of the absence. The missing warmth. The bond that had become a chain.

Varrick leaned close, his breath brushing my ear. “At least you’re good for show.”

The words sliced clean through me. My body didn’t falter, my smile didn’t crack, but inside - oh, inside - I bled.

When the song ended, he released me as if I’d burned him, bowing with courtly precision before turning to greet an elder. The moment was over. To him, so was I.

That stung.

I drifted to the side of the hall, hiding behind my goblet, my lungs tight. Around me, laughter, music, the scent of wine and sweat and perfume.

Perfume. Sweet. Cloying.

I stilled, eyes sweeping the dancers. There - in the corner. Varrick again, his head bent close to a pale-haired omega. Her laugh - soft, nervous - barely reached me over the music. His hand brushed hers as she passed him a drink.

The world tilted beneath my feet. I didn’t need more. Not yet.

But I knew.

I knew. Oh, choke on your bond Varrick!

If he did this tonight in public, he surley done worse behind my back. I was so mad, that my wolf surged to the surface.

I took a sharp breath to calm down. I need to keep my face and survive this night.

Someone approached me.

"Can I ask my beautiful Luna for a dance? " I hear Aldric voice.