Flamebound Luna

The Alpha and the Nobody The whisper followed her like a shadow. “She doesn’t belong here.” Ivy Cross pretended not to hear it. She stepped through the arched stone gates of Blackthorn University, her suitcase rattling behind her on the uneven cobblestones. Everything around her looked like it had been pulled from an ancient painting—ivy-covered towers, wrought-iron balconies, and fountains that shimmered in the morning light. Except none of it felt welcoming. Especially not when every single pair of eyes watched her like she was something scraped off a shoe. She was the only human. Or so they thought. She clutched her acceptance letter in one hand, knuckles white, heart thundering beneath her ribs. The supernaturals here—wolves, witches, fae—moved with casual arrogance. They wore their bloodlines like crowns. She wore her scholarship like a curse. "Excuse me,” she murmured, squeezing past two tall girls in matching leather jackets. One of them sneered. “Watch where you’re going, scholarship rat.” Ivy didn’t stop. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Her roommate was waiting at the dorm. Her schedule was packed. Her goals were simple: Keep her head down. Graduate in peace. Avoid the packs. Especially the Blackfangs. Especially him. Luka Thorn. She hadn’t seen him yet, but she’d read enough. The infamous Alpha heir. Leader of the Blackfang Pack. Untouchable. Dangerous. Everyone said he ruled Blackthorn like a king—untouchable, brutal, magnetic. She just needed to survive the year without crossing his path. That resolution shattered an hour later. The lecture hall was nearly full when she slipped into the back row. The room buzzed with quiet chatter and scent-marked territory. Ivy kept her head low, eyes fixed on her notebook. But the moment the door opened again, the air shifted. A silence fell over the room like a held breath. And then she saw him. Luka. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in black. Tattoos snaking down his forearms. His presence was suffocating. His eyes, cold silver with a hint of shadow, scanned the room like he owned every soul in it. And then— They locked on her. Ivy’s pulse stuttered. He walked down the steps, slow and deliberate, and took the seat directly in front of her. Why? Why here? A girl with long red nails hissed in Ivy’s direction. “She must be lost.” Luka didn’t speak. Didn’t even blink. But Ivy felt it. The pull. Her blood sang. Her body ached. Her soul screamed. Mate. It slammed into her like a car crash. The bond. The connection. The unbearable, electric weight of it. He turned slowly in his seat, his eyes meeting hers full-on now. And she knew. He felt it too. After class, she ran. The hallway blurred around her. Her breathing came fast. She shoved through the doors into the courtyard and collapsed against a stone pillar, heart in freefall. This couldn’t be happening. Not him. Anyone but him. Footsteps behind her. She spun—and froze. Luka stood there. Every student within earshot turned to look. Conversations stopped. Time slowed. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Please. Not here.” He stepped closer, expression unreadable. “You’re my mate.” Her breath hitched. Her body trembled. “I didn’t ask to be.” He stared at her like she was an inconvenience. “And I didn’t ask for you.” Her chest tightened. Pain. Shame. Heat. All at once. “I—I didn’t want this either. I didn’t even know I was—” “A wolf?” he finished, mocking. “You're barely one. Weak. Untrained. Your scent’s all wrong. It’s embarrassing.” Whispers rose from the crowd gathering around them. Ivy swallowed hard. “Why are you doing this?” Luka leaned in slightly, voice low and cold. “Because you don’t belong here. And I reject you.” The words hit like a slap. No, not a slap. Like a blade. Gasps echoed across the courtyard. Someone laughed. Another took a photo. But all Ivy could hear was her own pulse shattering inside her skull. “I reject you,” he repeated, louder this time. “As my mate. In front of my pack. In front of everyone.” Ivy’s knees buckled. Pain tore through her chest, sharp and cruel. The bond snapped like a frayed wire, but something deeper—older—twisted awake beneath her skin. She clutched her stomach. Heat bloomed outward. Her veins lit up like fire. The students backed away. Her body arched as if yanked b y invisible strings. Her eyes rolled back. And then a voice—dark, ancient, feminine—echoed in her mind. “You’ve been broken. Now you will burn.”