Bound by the Moon

Cold as Ice

– Tashay –

The chill in the air stung my skin as I rolled out of bed. The room was still dark, save for the faint slivers of moonlight seeping through the curtains. The house was quiet—too quiet. No one else had woken yet, and I knew I had time before the bustle of the morning would start. But that also meant I had to move quickly, or else risk being caught by my stepmother, the Luna, for not pulling my weight.

I padded across the cold wooden floor, the bare skin of my feet connecting with the ground like it was my punishment. The floor was always freezing at this hour. Always empty. Just like the way I felt in this house—cold, abandoned, unseen.

The shadows from the corners of my room seemed to stretch toward me, as if even the darkness itself were pushing me out. But I didn’t have the luxury of lingering.

With a deep breath, I slipped into the hallway, careful not to wake anyone. My bare feet barely made a sound as I moved toward the kitchen, the only place where I was of any use in this house. Where my role was clear.

The house groaned around me. It was always so silent at this hour, the air heavy with the scent of old wood and cold stone. I passed rooms where the pack slept, never looking into the shadows. Never lingering on the fact that the very home that once belonged to my father now felt like a prison.

By the time I reached the kitchen, the warmth from the stove greeted me like a quiet promise. Aria, the head cook, already stood near the counter, chopping vegetables for breakfast. She didn’t speak to me, but I could feel her eyes on me as I moved to the small sink and began to wash the dishes from the night before.

“Get to the prep table,” Aria said, not bothering to turn around. “We need those onions cut before the bread’s done.”

I nodded, too tired to speak. The motion of my hands felt automatic as I moved toward the table, picking up the knife and the pile of onions. But my thoughts were elsewhere.

The events of the night before played in a loop in my mind, a sharp echo of the rejection. The moon’s marking, the bond—the bond—that should have connected me to Stephan. But it hadn’t. He had turned away from me, and everything I thought I knew about myself had shattered in an instant.

I couldn’t breathe last night. Not when he walked away, not when I realized that I had been nothing more than a fleeting memory in his life.

I forced myself to focus on the onions, even as my hands trembled. The knife moved quicker than my thoughts, but my mind wouldn’t stop racing.

“He rejected her.”

The words broke through my spiraling thoughts, low and hushed, but loud enough for me to hear. The cooks in the corner of the room were talking about last night. Talking about me.

I kept chopping, trying to focus on the cutting board, but the words echoed in my mind with each slice of the knife. “He rejected her.”

“Who?” Aria asked, though her tone was indifferent, as though she didn’t really care.

“The Alpha. Stephan,” the younger cook said. “He found his mate last night in the woods, but he walked away from her. Just like that. Didn’t even care.”

The sharpness of the knife in my hand blurred, and I almost cut myself. I drew in a breath, fighting to keep my composure. But the weight of those words pressed down on me like a stone, sinking me deeper into the mire of shame and hurt that had already lodged itself in my chest.

“He rejected her?” Aria asked again, sounding more interested now.

I could hear the pity in her voice. It wasn’t even subtle.

I felt the heat rise to my face, a mix of embarrassment and anger. They were talking about me like I wasn’t even here. Like I was some object, some unimportant thing that didn’t even deserve respect.

I tightened my grip on the knife, forcing myself to keep going. But every slice into the onion felt like a reminder of what had happened.

“Yeah, he did,” the young cook responded. “The Beta himself told me. You should’ve seen the way she looked at him. Heartbroken, I’d say. But the worst part? She’s Alpha Marcus’s daughter. The one who should’ve been heir.”

That name—Alpha Marcus—stuck in my chest like a splinter, the pain of his loss still fresh in my bones. The pack had fallen to the Luna when my father died, and ever since, I had been treated like a servant in my own home. Never acknowledged as the rightful heir.

The whispers continued, but I couldn’t bear to hear any more. The pain was too much.

I wasn’t sure when I began to cry, but the tears came in silence, rolling down my cheeks as I chopped the onions harder than I should have. The sting in my eyes made it hard to see, but I didn’t care.

No one noticed. No one ever did.

---

“Take this to the Alpha,” Aria snapped, pulling me from my thoughts.

I wiped my eyes quickly, trying to hide the evidence of my weakness as I grabbed the tray she’d prepared for breakfast. The scent of eggs and sausage filled the air as I moved toward the door, my legs heavy with the weight of what I’d just overheard.

The dining hall was full by the time I arrived, the pack members gathered at long tables, chattering about nothing of consequence. I was invisible to them all. I had to be.

As I approached the Alpha’s table, the air seemed to shift. The moment I saw him, my breath caught in my throat.

Stephan.

He was sitting at the head of the table, looking every bit the Alpha he was, though there was a darkness in his eyes that made my heart race in ways I hated. I forced myself to walk forward, to place the tray down in front of him.

His gaze flickered to mine for just a second. But it wasn’t like before. It wasn’t the instant connection I had felt last night. There was no recognition, no acknowledgment. His face was hard, unreadable.

I turned quickly, desperate to leave, but the sound of his voice stopped me.

“Tashay,” he said.

My name came out like a question, an unfamiliar sound in his mouth.

But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

Without another word, I walked away, feeling the weight of his stare follow me as I disappeared into the kitchen.

I didn’t know what hurt more—the fact that he had rejected me or that he now didn’t even care enough to try.