The Luna He Threw Away

Elena's The rough wool of the Omega uniform chafed against my neck, but the sting in my chest hurt worse. "Still dreaming, Winny?" A heavy silver-plated platter slammed onto the wooden counter, making the leftover porridge rattle. Tanya, a high-ranking Beta she-wolf with a cruel smirk, leaned over the kitchen island. "I asked you a question, maid," Tanya sneered. "Or does having a fated mate bond make you too elite to wash the dishes?" "I’m listening, Tanya," I said softly, keeping my eyes downward. "The platters will be cleaned before the morning pack meeting." "They better be." Tanya crossed her arms, her voice rising so the other servants in the kitchen could hear. "Because the real warriors are returning today. Alpha Nikolai has been at the northern border for three months, handling actual responsibilities. You honestly think he’s going to walk through those palace doors and look at a disgraced Omega like you?" "The Moon Goddess chose the bond," I whispered, my hand instinctively moving toward my chest. Beneath the fabric, my skin ran hot, a faint golden warmth pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. "It isn't something that can be erased by rank." The kitchen erupted into sharp, mocking laughter. "The Moon Goddess makes mistakes," a voice called out from the pantry. Tanya leaned closer, her scent of sharp pine and dominance flaring just enough to make my inner wolf whimper. "Listen to me, Elena. A fated bond is a suggestion. A Luna needs an army, an elite bloodline, and power. Your parents died as branded traitors, and you can barely shift without collapsing. Nikolai is a king. When he looks at you, all he sees is a charity case whose tuition he paid." "That’s enough, Tanya," an older Omega named Martha interrupted, stepping between us with a basket of wet linens. "Go tend to the main hall. The Alpha King’s convoy will be at the gates in less than an hour." Tanya threw her head back, giving a parting glare. "Enjoy the scrub brush, Elena. Let’s see if your royal mate even remembers your name." Once the heavy oak doors swung shut, the kitchen fell quiet. Martha turned to me, her eyes filled with a heavy, exhausting pity that felt worse than Tanya’s insults. "You shouldn't bait them, child," Martha murmured, gently squeezing my hand. "It only makes it harder on you." "I wasn't baiting anyone, Martha," I said, trying to force a reassuring smile. "I'm just stating a fact. Nikolai publicly claimed me at the academy. He told everyone I belonged to him." "Claiming an Omega to protect her from being expelled is one thing," Martha sighed, shaking her head. "Bringing her into the royal bed as a Luna is another. The Alpha King has been meeting with the eastern packs. They are looking for a political alliance, Elena. A pure Alpha bloodline." "Nikolai is different," I insisted, though my own words felt thin. "When we are alone, he... he looks at me differently. He just has to be strong in public because of his father." "Just finish the dishes, dear," Martha said softly, turning back to her work. "And stay out of the courtyard when the wolves arrive. The Alpha King doesn't like distractions." I didn't listen. An hour later, the deep, thunderous howl of the pack's horn echoed through the valley. The heavy iron gates of the Silver Fang Palace ground open. Ignoring Martha's warning, I squeezed past the guards and stood near the back of the stone balcony, looking down at the courtyard. Hundreds of wolves had gathered, their cheers shaking the very foundations of the palace. A line of black armored vehicles rolled inside, surrounded by elite warriors on horseback. Then, the door to the lead vehicle opened. My breath caught in my throat. The golden thread inside my chest flared into a violent, burning heat. My inner wolf raised her head, pacing restlessly beneath my skin. Mate. Nikolai Sterling stepped out. He was tall, devastatingly handsome, with silver eyes that caught the morning light like polished blades. His dark hair was windswept, and his broad shoulders carried the heavy, suffocating aura of an Alpha born to rule. He looked magnificent. He looked like a king. "He's back," I whispered to myself, my fingers tightly gripping the stone railing. For months, the pack house had felt cold and empty. Every night spent in the tiny servant's quarters had been an exercise in loneliness. But seeing him now, the memory of his touch, the way he would hold me in the dark when no one was watching—it made every ounce of humiliation disappear. Nikolai paused at the base of the grand stairs. He ran a hand through his hair, his sharp gaze sweeping over the crowd of shouting onlookers. Slowly, almost as if he felt the exact same pull radiating from my chest, his silver eyes drifted upward. He looked past the noble she-wolves. He looked past the high-ranking commanders. His eyes locked directly onto mine. Time seemed to freeze. The roar of the crowd faded into a dull hum. I held my breath, waiting for the slight nod, the secret sign, or the quick smile he usually gave me when we were hidden from his father's sight. Just give me a second, I pleaded silently. Just show them Tanya is wrong. Nikolai’s gaze lingered on me for one heartbeat. Two. Then, his jaw tightened. His expression hardened into a wall of absolute, freezing indifference. He broke the eye contact, turning his back to the balcony as if I were nothing more than a ghost haunting the stone walls. "Look at him," a noble she-wolf near the front staircase giggled, her voice carrying easily in the crisp air. "He didn't even glance at the servant's quarters." "Why would he?" another replied. "A true king doesn't look at the dirt." My hands began to tremble against the cold stone. I pulled back into the shadows of the doorway, my heart hammering against my ribs. He’s just tired, I told myself, a familiar, desperate chant echoing in my mind. His father is right behind him. He can't show weakness today. But deep down, beneath the fated bond, a small, terrifying whisper began to grow.