MOON SHADOWED

Prologue: Moon Shadowed Olivia “Liv” Winters’ POV The moon has always spoken to me. Not in words, not in dreams—but in instinct. In the quiet pull beneath my ribs, in the ache that blooms when night deepens and silver light spills across the earth. My wolf, Cora, has always said the moon remembers things we try to forget. Love. Betrayal. Fate. Tonight, the moon is full. And tonight, my life breaks. I never imagined betrayal would arrive so quietly. No screaming. No dramatic confrontation. Just a half-open door, drifting cigarette smoke, and the careless honesty of a man who never thought I’d hear the truth. But maybe I should start earlier—before the cracks showed, before love turned into something sharp and humiliating. Three years ago, I came to Harbor City with nothing but a suitcase and a stubborn heart. I had run away from Riverdale under the cover of night, ignoring my father’s thunderous voice echoing through the pack house, ignoring the destiny he had laid out for me since the day I was born. Winters pack blood runs ancient and proud through my veins. We are not the loudest pack, not the most aggressive—but we endure. We survive. We remember. And my father, Alpha Marcus Winters, remembered everything. He remembered treaties older than modern cities. Blood oaths signed under moonlight. Promises that bound families together for generations. Including one that bound me to Connor Rivers. I hated that name back then. Connor Rivers—the Alpha of Riverdale’s most powerful pack. My childhood shadow. My protector. My burden. We grew up together. He always stood half a step in front of me, broad-shouldered even as a boy, silent and watchful. When other pups teased me, Connor stepped in. When I scraped my knees, he carried me home. When my first heat nearly spiraled out of control, it was Connor who guarded my door all night, refusing to let any unmated wolf near. Everyone said it was fate. I said it was a cage. I wanted choice. Passion. Love that burned because it *wanted* to—not because it was written in blood. So when my wolf screamed in recognition one night in Harbor City—when I met Ethan Grey—I thought the moon had finally chosen *me*. Ethan Grey was everything Connor was not. Warm where Connor was cold. Smiling where Connor was distant. Reckless, charming, alive. The moment our eyes met, Cora surged forward, howling inside me. Mate. The word shook me to my core. Ethan felt it too. I saw it in the way his pupils dilated, the way his breath hitched. He reached for me without thinking, fingers curling around my wrist as if afraid I’d disappear. “I’m Ethan,” he said, voice rough. “You feel it too, don’t you?” I nodded, heart racing. “Yes.” And just like that, I believed in miracles. I hid my true identity then. I told him I was just Olivia—no pack, no status, no expectations. A she-wolf trying to survive on her own. He accepted that easily. Too easily, maybe. But I didn’t care. For three years, I loved him. I loved him when he was gentle, brushing my hair aside after nightmares. I loved him when he was busy, when days passed without messages and I told myself it was normal. I loved him when his friends mocked me for being “ordinary,” and he stayed silent instead of defending me. I told myself love meant patience. I told myself love meant compromise. I told myself I was happy. Cora was never convinced. “She doesn’t like him,” I used to think. But wolves know truth before humans do. Ethan never introduced me to his family. Never marked me. Never spoke of a future. Whenever I brought up the word mate, he would kiss my forehead and say, “Let’s not rush things.” I mistook avoidance for caution. I mistook indifference for maturity. I mistook being chosen last for being chosen at all. Tonight, I was supposed to pick him up for a pack dinner. I even made healing broth earlier that day—his favorite. I’d learned the recipe after he got sick once and casually mentioned it reminded him of home. I remember smiling then, proud. I remember thinking: This must be love...... Moonlight Manor glowed warmly when I arrived, laughter echoing faintly from inside. I reached for the door— And stopped. Because I heard her name. “Cassandra is back.” The name sliced through me. I didn’t know Cassandra then—not truly—but I knew instinctively that she mattered. The way Ethan’s name followed hers in hushed tones. The way the air shifted. “What about Olivia?” someone asked. My heart stuttered. Ethan’s answer came easily. Too easily. “What about her?” I felt something inside me fracture. I stood frozen, hand hovering inches from the door, while the truth unraveled piece by piece. “She’s just a substitute.” The words echoed endlessly, reverberating through my chest like a death sentence. A substitute. Not a mate. Not a partner. Not a future. Just a shadow. I don’t remember how I walked away. I don’t remember how long I stood by the river, city lights blurring through tears I refused to wipe away. All I remember is the cold. Not the kind that touches skin—but the kind that seeps into bone, into soul, into the place where hope used to live. Cora whimpered inside me. "We leave" , she said firmly. "We deserve more." That was when I called my father. My pride shattered. My rebellion burned out. “I’ll accept the arranged marriage,” I told him. The words tasted like iron and relief all at once. For the first time in three years, the moon didn’t feel cruel. It felt… patient. I didn’t know yet that Ethan would bring his past into my present. I didn’t know that Cassandra would smile sweetly while tearing open old wounds. I didn’t know that the ring waiting for me in a velvet box would change everything. All I knew was this: Love had chosen me once—and I had mistaken it for destiny. This time, I would not make the same mistake. Because the moon does not belong to shadows. And neither do I. 🌙