Becoming Luna

13 - New Moon

The path to the amphitheater where the alpha ceremony will be held is on the western side of the forest where the packhouse proudly stands. Cold silver light filters through the branches above, where the full moon generously shines in the clear night sky. The air is cool, neither too bitingly cold nor too warm. Just perfect for the midnight run.

Torches line the trail at regular intervals, their flames flickering gently, casting shadows that dance like ancient ghosts along the trunks of the trees. The scent of pine and wildflowers clings to the breeze. The amphitheater emerges ahead, an open, stone-ringed space nestled in the arms of a natural hollow, timeless in its grandeur. Moss creeps along its edges, softening the ancient granite. Stone benches form a semicircle around the ceremonial grounds, and there’s enough space for the entire pack. The center stage is left bare, save for a carved obsidian pedestal bearing the Alpha’s insignia and a shallow bowl for the blood rite.

Above it all, the moon hangs directly overhead, like a guest of honor. The wind carries the distant howls of wolves who cannot come because they need to guard the borders, but who wish to share their support and pay their respects to the new alpha.

Everything is ready for this very important night.

And so is Siena.

Chin up and spine stiff, she walks alone towards the amphitheater, while the others cluster in groups or in pairs. As the moon rises higher, more pack members begin to trickle into the main path, emerging from the shadows, all dressed in ceremonial clothes. There’s excitement in the air, yes—but also tension humming just beneath it, as this night promises something very different from what everyone was expecting before.

A new alpha…but with a different Luna.

Word has spread like wildfire that Siena will no longer be Andrew’s Luna, but an outsider instead will take her place. Someone made sure to let it slip that the fault lies on Siena who was unfaithful to their future alpha and is no longer worthy to stand beside him. Andrew’s reputation took a hit when people witnessed him suffering the cheating pains, and now, apparently, everyone’s sympathy is on him. He was disrespected by his former mate, cuckolded him and caused his accident, but with a new mate, his honor is somehow restored. No one even seems to bat an eyelid about how quickly he found a new luna.

Yet since she has returned, no one has asked Siena her side of the story. No one asked why she would do such a thing, only a few days before becoming Luna. No, they simply accepted the version fed to them and shunned her.

Siena’s mouth fills with bitter disappointment, making her wince. To think she had been working day and night for these people. So many sleepless nights spent figuring out how to better serve them. Her own leg, sacrificed because she tried to save those in the packhouse who were in danger from the rogue.

One mistake, and they turn their backs on her. Meanwhile, they worship the golden boy who would have left Siena anyway, whether she had betrayed him or not.

So unfair.

When she steps onto the edge of the clearing, conversations stutter to a stop. Some heads turn, only to gasp and quickly look away. Others stare outright, unblinking, not even pretending to hide their judgment. Eyes skim over her like she’s a stranger, and a toxic one at that.

“She’s got some nerve showing her face.”

“Didn’t think she had it in her, which just proves it’s always the quiet ones.”

“Luna Cristina was right about her all along…”

“I never liked her for Andrew, you know. She’s too arrogant…”

They didn’t say the words out loud, but they are sharing their thoughts in the pack’s common mind-link. They whisper at the same time, quietly enough to mask individual voices and deny if Siena decides to confront them. No one expects her to, of course. They think shame will make her bow her head and avert her eyes.

She does neither.

Instead, she raises her chin and straightens her back even more, listening to them, hoping to find voices that would make one last sacrifice worth it. So far there is none.

She walks calmly, with determined strides. Her dress, simple and unadorned, makes her stand out even more, as everyone is in their Sunday best. Her hair is gathered in one tight bun, pinned back with deliberate care, not a strand out of place. Her face is bare, no makeup or even accessories.

No one greets her, but whispers follow.

“Why is she here!?”

“She looks brazen, even now.”

“Andrew deserves better.”

“Harlot!”

Someone laughs, a soft but cruel sound, and it cuts deeper than a claw ever could.

Siena takes her seat, pretending their words don’t hurt her, even though they do, leaving imaginary whipmarks. They slip into her skin, burrowing deep, each word a thorn against bruised flesh, for amongst these people whispering behind her back are her friends, and people she knew and who knew her growing up, but no one seems too keen on being associated with her at the moment.

She passes familiar faces, ones she once considered almost family. People she comforted in grief, warriors she visited in the hospital after rogue attacks, girls she celebrated with under the full moon. They can barely look at her now. Even worse, they look at her as if they wish they never knew her.

No one knows what her mate did.

That he betrayed her first.

That he broke her heart, not once but twice.

Siena had locked herself in her room during the cheating pains and never told a soul. She swallowed the truth, thinking she was protecting the bond. Protecting them.

And now here she is, painted as a harlot, a disgrace. The unfaithful Luna.

They probably believe she betrayed Andrew, thinking she would be forgiven anyway because of how ‘loyal’ Andrew has proven himself to be before, choosing to keep his one-legged mate instead of searching for another.

“How selfish.”

“After everything he has done for her, how could she do that to him?”

“It’s a good thing he found someone else right away, someone worthy.”

Her stomach knots. She fights to keep her expression still, her breathing even, but it’s getting harder to pretend.

“She’ll be lucky if she’s allowed to stay in the pack.”

“I would have already left, if I were in her shoes.”

Siena’s jaw tightens. She presses a hand against the cool stone to ground herself, the sharp edges biting into her palm. Her heart beats painfully behind her ribs.

Not a single voice defends her. Not one of the people she stood beside all these years is speaking up. No one mentions she’s kind or caring. No one dares to say that she was a good person who was just pushed too far. That she gave and gave and gave until something inside her had broken.

They just see her mistake. They don’t care about the wound beneath it.

Her throat burns, as well as the corners of her eyes, but she refuses to cry. Not here. Not for their entertainment.

Oh, how quickly the tides have turned. How fast a good woman becomes a cautionary tale. She isn’t exactly innocent or blameless, but neither is she the monster they’re making her out to be.

All of a sudden, a hush falls over the amphitheater, spreading slowly like spilled ink, silencing laughter, whispers, and idle chatter. Heads turn. All eyes shift toward the path leading through the trees.

He is coming.

Siena smells his scent before she sees him. She hears the familiar crunch of his footsteps on the earth, the low murmurs of deference and awe. Then he steps into view.

Andrew.

The man who once swore his soul was tethered to hers. The one who claimed her innocence and lied to her about his betrayal.

Her new Alpha, if she doesn’t leave the pack soon.

He walks with that easy, confident stride he’s always had—shoulders squared, confident smile, his jaw set with solemn pride. His ceremonial coat hangs open, dark and finely tailored, silver embroidery catching the torchlight. His hair is freshly cut, his beard trimmed close. He looks every inch the leader he was raised to be.

And then, there’s… her.

The new would-be Luna.