His Banished Luna

Gone

ALEXANDER

I didn’t want to tell her like that. Hell, I didn’t want to tell her yet at all.

I wanted more time. Time to ease her into this life, time to let the hate in her eyes dull even a little before I dropped a truth that would shatter everything.

But last night, when she kissed me like that—when she touched me like she needed me just as badly as I’ve always needed her—I lost it. I panicked.

Because if we’d gone further… if I’d taken her the way I’ve dreamed of since the moment I saw her again, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to hold back the monster inside me. And she’s already been through too much.

I can’t be the thing that breaks her.

So I told her.

And now I’m in the council room, pretending like I didn’t have the shittiest night, like my world didn’t just flip on its head. Pretending like my body isn’t still burning from the feel of her mouth on mine. Pretending like my heart didn’t crack when I saw the look on her face after the truth came out.

The room is loud. Too loud.

Voices argue back and forth—Enzo, Aldric, Madeline, and a few of the other council members. Talking about border patrol, shifting alliances, the Eastside rogues.

I barely hear a word.

My head is pounding like someone’s taken a damn sledgehammer to it. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, digging my thumb into my temple.

The wolf inside me growls. Restless. Hungry. My control’s slipping more every day, and I can feel it now more than ever.

He wants out.

He wants her.

And it’s taking everything in me to keep him caged.

“—we can’t keep ignoring the Eastside problem, Alexander!” Madeline’s voice cuts through the fog like a blade.

“We need more men on the west wall,” Aldric snaps back. “The last attack came from that direction.”

“No, the rogues are coming from the south—”

Their voices blur again. Loud. Sharp. Grating.

I grit my teeth. My hands curl into fists.

Then something in me snaps.

BAM.

My fist slams into the table with enough force to crack the wood.

Silence crashes over the room.

Every head turns toward me.

I stand slowly, jaw tight, breath ragged.

“You think I don’t know where the threats are?” My voice is low. Dangerous. “I built those damn walls myself. I bleed for this pack every day. So unless you’ve got something useful to say, shut the hell up.”

No one speaks.

Good.

I’m not in the mood for their bickering. Not when everything’s falling apart. Not when Emmaline’s eyes still haunt me—shock, betrayal, and something worse.

Fear.

Just as I sit back down, my phone buzzes.

Enzo passes it to me. “It’s the gate,” he says. “Something’s arrived.”

I frown, lifting the phone to my ear. “What is it?”

“Sir,” the guard says. “A package. Just… sitting at the gate. No label. No scent. Nothing.”

My gut tightens.

“Don’t touch it,” I say. “We’re on our way.”

Enzo is already standing when I hang up. “Trouble?”

“Probably.” I turn to Raffa, who stands near the door like a shadow. “You’re with us.”

The head of security nods once, silent as always. The man’s loyal, efficient, and deadly. I trust him with my life—and more importantly, Emmaline’s.

We head straight to the gates.

The package is there, just like they said. A plain brown cardboard box, no markings, no address.

I don’t like this.

“Could be a trap,” Raffa mutters, eyeing the box carefully.

“Definitely is,” Enzo says. “But let’s see what kind.”

I crouch and open it slowly.

Inside, nestled in black foam, is a remote.

A blinking red light flashes on its center.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My eyes widen.

“Move!” I roar, just before the explosion rips through the air.

BOOM.

The southern wall goes up in flames.

The shockwave knocks us to the ground, fire and smoke rushing through the trees. The scent of ash and blood fills my nose.

And then I smell them.

Rogues.

Dozens.

Raffa is the first to shift, his massive wolf barreling toward the opening. I follow, letting the shift take over.

My bones break. My skin tears. Fur replaces flesh.

I land on four paws, my black wolf massive and furious.

The rogues pour through the gap like rats, snarling and snapping.

I don’t wait.

I lunge.

Teeth sink into fur. Blood sprays. A rogue screams as I tear into his throat. Another jumps me from behind, claws raking down my side.

Pain flares, but I don’t stop.

Enzo joins the fight, his grey wolf ripping into another enemy.

We fight like a unit—years of battle training taking over. But there are too many of them. They keep coming.

One pins me down. His jaws go for my neck. I twist, slam him into the ground, and tear into his chest. My side burns where his claws slashed me.

A howl splits the air—Raffo, calling for the rest of the pack.

Backup arrives.

Our warriors flood the field. The tide shifts. The rogues falter, then flee.

We chase them to the treeline. A few die under our claws. The rest vanish into the woods.

It’s over.

I shift back, blood coating my skin, pain pulsing down my side. My ribs ache—probably cracked. I stagger for a moment, catching myself on a tree.

“Alexander—” Enzo hurries to me.

“I’m fine,” I lie. “Let’s get back.”

We return to the palace in silence, our clothes torn, blood dried on our skin. My body screams with every step, but I don’t care.

I need to see her.

I need to make sure she’s safe.

I walk down the hall to her room.

But the second I push the door open—I freeze.

The room is empty, there’s no sign of her.

She’s gone.