Chapter Two: A Luna in Name Only
529 Words
Aria learned very quickly that being Luna meant nothing.
By morning, the news had spread through the Blackridge Pack like wildfire.
The Alpha rejected his mate.
She stood alone in the Alpha’s chambers as pale light filtered through tall windows. The bed behind her was untouched. Kael had not returned after his warning. He had left her exactly where he wanted her—unclaimed, unprotected, and exposed.
A servant entered without knocking.
“Luna,” the girl said flatly, refusing to meet Aria’s eyes. “The Alpha requests your presence.”
Requests.
Aria followed her through stone corridors already buzzing with whispers. Wolves paused in their conversations as she passed.
“That’s her?”
“The omega?”
“She doesn’t even smell like a Luna.”
The words cut deeper than claws.
In the great hall, Alpha Kael sat on his throne, legs spread casually, power rolling off him in suffocating waves. At his right hand stood Beta Rowan. At his left—
Aria froze.
Lyra.
Tall. Beautiful. Dressed in silver. Her scent hit Aria instantly—strong, confident, alpha-bred.
The woman who was supposed to be Luna.
Lyra smiled when she saw Aria. Not friendly. Victorious.
“Ah,” Kael said lazily. “You came.”
Aria stopped at the foot of the throne. “You sent for me.”
“I did.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “There seems to be confusion in my pack.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the hall.
“Confusion?” Aria asked quietly.
Kael gestured toward Lyra. “This is Lyra of the Silvercrest Pack. My chosen Luna.”
The word chosen rang in her ears.
Gasps filled the room.
Aria felt something crack inside her chest—but she forced herself to remain still.
“And you,” Kael continued, eyes locking onto hers, “are here to serve.”
Serve.
A murmur of approval swept through the crowd.
“You will not sit on my throne. You will not command my wolves. You will not bear my mark.” His voice hardened. “You exist to satisfy the terms of the alliance. Nothing more.”
Lyra stepped closer, her voice sweet. “I hope we can coexist peacefully, Aria.”
Her scent flared—a challenge.
Aria bowed her head slowly. Not in submission.
In calculation.
“As you wish, Alpha,” she said. “I will serve.”
Kael’s brow furrowed slightly, as if he had expected resistance.
“Good,” he said. “Then prove you understand your place.”
He turned to the hall. “From today onward, the omega Aria will resume duties in the servants’ quarters.”
Silence.
Then laughter.
Aria felt every eye on her as guards stepped forward. Her hands shook—but she clenched them into fists.
She would not break.
As she was led away, a sharp pain tore through her chest.
She gasped.
The room tilted.
A heat—violent and unfamiliar—flashed through her veins, leaving behind a single, terrifying truth.
Alpha Kael stiffened on his throne.
His eyes snapped to her.
The scent in the room shifted.
Mate.
- Writer
