Alpha's Luna

Chapter Seven - Domestication. Selene POV

I stand in the center of the great hall, the weight of a dozen wrinkled eyes boring into me. The elders have gathered like crows perched in judgment, their bony fingers laced together, their lips moving as though whispering curses.

“This is the bride,” one croaks, her voice brittle as dry leaves. “She must learn obedience, submission, and etiquette.”

Obedience? Submission? I nearly choke. My back straightens, and I resist the urge to laugh in their faces. Instead, I plaster on my best sweet-but-deadly smile, the kind that drove my brother Finn crazy back home whenever he caught me stealing extra bread.

They motion me to kneel. I don’t.

One elder steps forward, a staff in his hand, heavy with the scent of pine and smoke. He lowers it like a sword before me. “Kneeling, child, is the mark of respect to your Alpha husband. Submission is your place now. Do not resist.”

My lips twitch. Oh, they really expect me to kneel like some obedient pup. “Respect, huh?” I tilt my head. “Does it involve crawling on the ground or do you accept polite applause as well?”

Gasps ripple through the room like someone just farted in church. The maids along the wall exchange horrified glances. Somewhere in the corner, I swear I see Kaine’s jaw twitch.

He’s seated in his Alpha’s chair, carved from black oak, high-backed and shadowed. He hasn’t spoken yet, but I can feel his gaze burning into me. He’s watching. Always watching.

“Child,” another elder says, her eyes narrowed to slits. “You must be tamed. An Alpha’s bride must embody grace. Silence. Obedience.”

“Tamed?” I laugh, sharp and short. “I’m not a wolf pup chewing on boots. I’m a grown woman who knows how to cook her own food, thank you very much. I’ll pass on the taming.”

A dangerous silence falls.

Then Kaine stands.

The air shifts immediately. Power rolls off him in waves, brushing against my skin, prickling the hairs on my arms. His voice is low, commanding, almost a growl. “Enough.”

The elders freeze, their glares darting between me and him.

Kaine’s eyes lock onto mine. “I’ll handle her training.”

Something stirs in my chest. Training? Like I’m some unruly horse? I want to protest, but the way his voice grates - like steel on stone - keeps me rooted.

The elders bow stiffly and shuffle out, muttering under their breath. I stick my tongue out at their retreating backs. One of them almost trips over her staff. Small victory.

When the hall empties, Kaine turns to me. His expression is unreadable, carved in stone. “You think this is a game?”

My hands go to my hips. “Oh, forgive me for not enjoying a public humiliation session where a bunch of skeletons tell me how to breathe properly.”

His nostrils flare. “They speak of rites older than you can imagine. You will learn them.”

I snort. “What, the art of bowing without spraining my spine?”

His eyes narrow. He steps closer, and I instinctively tilt my chin up. The space between us crackles, like a storm about to break.

“You think sarcasm makes you strong?” he says. “Strength is discipline. Control. A Luna must know both.”

“Control?” I echo, my voice rising. “Do you really think barking orders at me will make me your perfect little Luna? Or do you plan on staying a lone wolf like most Alphas, intimidating everyone until even your bride despises you?”

The words slip out before I can stop them. And instantly, I regret them.

Something breaks in his expression. His eyes darken, but not in anger. No, this is different. Much like a haunted expression.

His breath catches, almost imperceptibly, and for the first time since I met him, Kaine looks… human.

My heart stutters. “Kaine?”

But he’s not here. Not really. His gaze has gone distant, shadowed by ghosts I can’t see.

I step forward, my voice softer now. “Are you… sick?” My hand rises, almost on its own, brushing against his forehead like I used to do with Finn whenever he came down with fever. His skin is hot - not burning, but charged, like lightning under flesh.

For a moment, he doesn’t move. His lashes lower, his breath ragged. I swear he leans into my touch.

Then, suddenly, he snaps.

He yanks my hand away, his grip rough, his eyes blazing with something wild. “Don’t.” His voice is low, raw. “Don’t touch me.”

I stumble back, stung. “I was just—”

“Leave,” he bites out.

The word slices through me.

My lips part, but nothing comes out. He’s standing there like a fortress, walls slamming shut faster than I can blink. Whatever I saw a second ago - the c***k in his armor, the shadow of pain - that’s gone now, buried under steel.

I nod once, my throat tight, and turn toward the door.

But as I walk away, my chest aches. Not from humiliation. Not from anger. But from the strange, aching truth that Kaine, Ironfang’s Alpha, untouchable, and terrifying; isn’t unshakable at all. He’s more like a broken soul.

And I don’t know why that hurts me more than his words.

I walk fast. Too fast. My slippers smack against the stone floor of the corridor, echoing like tiny hammers chasing me. My chest feels tight, like I’m holding back something that doesn’t belong to me - his anger, his shadows. I feel like screaming. But the lurking eyes within this walls might call me crazy.

What was that?

The question spins round and round in my head. One moment Kaine was a towering Alpha with fire in his eyes, the next… he looked like he was somewhere else entirely, trapped in some pain only he could see. And I, the i***t that I am; reached out, touched him like I had the right.

The way he yanked my hand away still burns on my skin. “Aah that was embarrassing” I mutter, trying to keep my cool.

I blink hard, shaking my head. Why do I even care? He’s an Alpha. Moody, secretive, impossible. Not my problem.

Still, my feet keep carrying me forward until something halts me mid-step.

At the end of the walkway, past a row of high arches carved with Ironfang symbols, a hill stretches into view. I freeze. It's the first time I am seeing anything like this since I arrived at Ironfang. The view reminds me of Moonveil, home.

It’s not like the rest of this fortress with its harsh stone walls and iron spires. No, this is… alive. The hill is dressed in green, thick with trees that seem to hum even from here, their branches swaying though no wind touches my face. At the top, the fading sun paints everything in gold, soft and almost unreal.

My lips part. A strange warmth blooms in my chest, pushing away the sharp ache Kaine left there.

It’s beautiful. So beautiful it makes my throat tight.

I step closer to the arch, gripping the stone as though the view might slip away if I don’t anchor myself. The air smells different here—less of smoke and wolves, more of pine and something sweet, like honey left out in the sun.

I whisper before I can stop myself, “I want to go there.”

But the hill is beyond the guarded gates. Out there. Past watchful eyes and patrols. If the elders barely let me choose when to sit and stand, how could I ever get away long enough to climb that hill?

Still… the thought lodges itself deep. Maybe if I slip away at the right time. Maybe if I distract the guards, or bribe one of the maids, or …

A ridiculous grin spreads across my face. Sneak out, I think, giddy at the possibility. The idea feels like freedom, like a piece of myself I left behind when I came here.

With one last hungry look at the hill, I turn and head to my chambers.

When I close the door behind me, the silence is loud. My room smells faintly of lavender, the pillows fluffed neatly, the fire in the hearth burning low. It should feel comforting. Instead, it feels like a cage.

I flop onto the bed, arms stretched wide, staring at the ceiling.

“What is wrong with Kaine?” I mutter.

The question gnaws at me until I sit up and hug my knees to my chest. He’s the one who should be a mystery I ignore, not a puzzle I want to solve. Why did he look at me like that? Why did my touch send him spiraling? What was he angry at?

My stomach twists. A part of me - traitorous, soft - aches for him.

“Nope,” I say aloud, shaking my head so hard my hair whips across my face. “No. I don’t care. Not one bit.”

I push my cheeks up with both hands, forcing a smile. “See? Cute, unbothered Selene.” I giggle to myself, the sound ridiculous, but it makes me feel lighter. “I am not thinking about a grumpy Alpha who thinks growling counts as communication.”

I roll onto my belly, kicking my legs behind me like a child, and press my face into the blanket. “I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t—ugh.”

Still, his face flashes in my mind, shadowed and broken.

I bury my head deeper into the covers until I sound muffled even to myself. “I don’t care.”

But even as I say it, I know the hill isn’t the only thing I’ll be sneaking toward. Aaaah, this place is driving me crazy.