THE DISCARDED LUNA

558 Words
CHAPTER 1 The air in the Sacred Circle tasted like copper and old promises. Ten thousand wolves stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes glowing under the Blood Moon. Torches hissed. The drums beat like a heart about to rupture. Tonight was the Mating Ceremony - the night Alphas chose their Lunas. And I was bleeding. Not from a wound. From humiliation. My name is Elara Vance. For five years I bled for Alpha Kael Blackthorn. I stitched his wounds when rival packs attacked our borders. I stayed up with fevered pups until dawn. I learned his moods, his silences, the way his shoulders dropped when the war reports got bad. I thought that meant something. I thought loyalty counted. I was wrong. On the obsidian dais, Kael stood tall in ceremonial black and silver. His jaw was clenched. His eyes refused to meet mine. Beside him, draped in white lace that cost more than my entire cottage, stood Luna Seraphine Vale. Fragile. Pale. The daughter of his political ally. The High Priestess lifted the ceremonial dagger, moonlight sliding down the blade. “Alpha Kael Blackthorn, do you claim this woman as your Luna, bound by moon and blood?” The whole pack held its breath. My heart was a traitor, pounding like it still believed in us. Kael’s voice cut through the night. Cold. Final. “I do not. I claim Seraphine Vale as my Luna. For the good of the pack. For alliance.” Something inside me snapped. Quietly. Like ice cracking underfoot. Five years. Reduced to a footnote in his reign. I turned to leave. Head high. Back straight. Let them see me break later. Not here. That’s when I felt it. A gaze. Heavy. Possessive. Like hands dragging down my spine. At the edge of the Circle, where shadows pooled thickest, he stood. The Lycan King. Darius Nocturne. They called him a monster. A myth. The ruler of the Northern Wastes who hadn’t set foot in pack territory in a century. Seven feet of scarred muscle and midnight. Black crown. Cloak like spilled ink. Eyes the color of a storm before it kills. And he was looking at me. Only me. “Stop.” His voice wasn’t loud. But it rolled over the Circle and pinned every wolf to the dirt. He walked through the crowd. Wolves parted without thinking. Prey instinct. He stopped in front of me. Up close, the scars on his throat were old battles carved into skin. “Mine now,” he said. “By ancient law. By right of claim.” Kael finally found his voice. “You can’t just— She’s pack! She’s ours!” “She’s discarded,” Darius’s eyes flicked to Kael, and the temperature dropped twenty degrees. “And I do not take what is unwanted. I take what is mine.” He lifted my chin with two fingers. His touch was scorching. “Elara Vance,” he said my name like a vow. “Do you accept my claim?” Ten thousand wolves were silent. I was terrified. I was furious. I was so tired of being second choice. So I met the monster’s eyes and I didn’t flinch. “Yes.” The Blood Moon flared, impossibly bright, painting everything red. Darius’s mouth curved. Not a smile. A promise. “Then come, Luna.” ---
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