THE SCENTLESS LUNA:CRIMSON OATH

I stood in the moonlight, in a white dress that was too tight with a ribbon choking my neck. The whole pack was watching. This was supposed to be my bonding night. Not a mating, I wasn’t worthy of that or at least that is what I have been told. But a claim. A chance. Alpha Varn would sniff the air, say my name, and the pack would accept me but not as a Luna. But as something. Anything. He stepped forward and his nose flared. And then he stopped and backed up. And said it. “Elara of Hollow… you carry no scent. You are defective. A failure of blood and spirit.” There was silence, then the whispers came and then laughter. My mom didn’t move. Didn’t even defend me. I was left to carry that humiliation on my own and just stood there like she’d been waiting for this. I didn’t cry or scream. Just turned and walked away. Because I knew something they didn’t. I did have a scent. I just didn’t wear it on my skin. I wore it in their lies. And Alpha Varn? He was lying. But no one else knew. But the second he said “defective,” I felt it. A pulse in my chest. A pull behind my ribs. Like something inside me woke up and hungered. I didn’t know what it was then. But I know now. That was the first time I fed. Not on blood. On falsehood. And I liked it. I went to the old lodge, the punishment room under the floorboards. I locked myself in. There was a cold stone. No light. Just me and the dark. And that’s when I heard it. A howl. Not from outside. From inside me. My wolf? Maybe. Or whatever the hell I am. I pressed my palm to the wall and for the first time, I felt it, the truth. Like a thread. Thin, sharp, and alive. Then, I heard footsteps. They were heavy and slow, but that was not from a guard. They sounded too calm. The door opened. No key. No lock. Just a man in a crimson coat and shadows in his eyes. It was Alpha Kael. I’d seen him once, at a Council meeting. He's tall and cold. The kind of Alpha wolves feared but not followed. He looked at me but not with pity and not with disgust but with interest. Like I was some sort of puzzle he wanted to solve. “You’re not broken,” he said. I stayed against the wall. “Then why am I in a hole?” “Because they’re afraid.” He stepped in. Closed the door. “You’re not scentless.” I froze. “What?” He took a slow and deep breath. Then he said: “You smell like truth.” I didn’t believe him. But I felt it. His pulse was steady, no lie. And for the first time in my life, someone was telling the truth, and it didn’t hurt. It soothed. He crouched in front of me not to intimidate me but to see me. “You’re not weak,” he said. “You’re a corrector. A balance. You feel it, don’t you? When they lie?” I didn’t answer. But my breath shook. And he knew. “You’re coming with me,” he said. “No.” “I’m not asking.” “You can’t just take me.” “I already did.” He stood and offered his hand but I didn’t take it. But I stood on my own. And when I passed him, I felt it again. That pull. But this time? It wasn’t from a lie. It was from him. His presence, his voice. The way he looked at me like I wasn’t broken, like I was beautiful in my rage. We walked out. No guards. No chains. Just us. And when we reached the black SUV, he opened the door for me. I turned and asked him, “Why me?” But he didn’t smile. Didn’t lie. Just said: “Because I’ve been waiting for someone who can’t be fooled.” And that’s when I knew. This wasn’t rescue. This wasn’t kindness. This was hunting. He didn’t want to save me. He wanted to use me. But here’s the thing. As I got in the car… I didn’t feel afraid. I felt awake. And when I looked at him, really looked, I saw it. His pulse. Just a flicker. Fast and nervous. And then… He lied. Just one word. “Safe.” “I’ll keep you safe.” And the second he said it? My blood burned. Because I felt it. The lie. Not big, not evil. But there. He didn’t know if I’d be safe. He just wanted to say it. Wanted to mean it. And that? That was the most dangerous part. Because if he wanted to be honest… Then maybe, just maybe, he was the first person in my life who could be. And that? That scared me more than any cage ever could.