HIS FATHER'S LUNA

HOW IT ALL STARTED

The temple became so quiet that even the candles seemed afraid to flicker. Jasper slowly turned to face the gathering.

His eyes swept across the nobles. No one dared meet his eyes. When he finally spoke...

His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. "I buried my Queen twenty years ago."

The hall remained silent. "For twenty years..." "I listened while this kingdom begged me to remarry."

"I refused." He took one slow step forward.

"You brought me daughters." "You brought me widows." "You brought me princesses."

"I rejected them all." Another step. "You asked me to choose a Queen." "I have."

His cold eyes settled on the crowd. "And now..." "You question my choice?"

Nobody answered. Nobody dared to move. Then… A middle-aged Alpha Lord rose from his seat.

With trembling hands, he bowed respectfully. "Your Majesty..." "We question not you..." "...but her."

Gasps rippled through the temple. Marcus Hale's hand immediately rested on the hilt of his sword.

Victor Ashford narrowed his eyes. The Alpha Lord continued. "She possesses neither a powerful wolf nor noble beauty."

"She has no experience leading a kingdom." "She is merely a servant." "If this woman becomes Queen..."

"...how will the neighboring kingdoms respect Valenmoor?" The temple held its breath.

Emma wished the floor would swallow her whole. Jasper looked at the Alpha Lord.

His expression never changed. "You've fought beside me before." "Y-Yes, Your Majesty."

"Tell me." Jasper's voice remained calm. "When arrows fell upon us..." "Did they ask whether the warrior beside you was noble?"

The Alpha hesitated. "No..." "When enemy blades cut through our lines..." "Did they stop to admire a man's beauty before killing him?"

"No, Your Majesty." Jasper nodded once. "Then explain to me..." His voice turned dangerously quiet.

"...why you believe courage, loyalty and character can be measured by bloodline..." "...or by the size of a woman's waist.

The Alpha Lord's face drained of color. He immediately dropped to both knees. "My King..."

"I spoke out of turn." "You did." Jasper replied. "But because today is my wedding..."

"I will forgive you." “I will not have you beheaded” A collective sigh of relief swept through the temple.

Everyone knew what that meant. On any other day… The Alpha king might have left the temple with his head.

Jasper turned back toward Emma. Without a word… He extended his hand. This time...

She didn't hesitate. Her fingers slipped into his, with fear. His grip was warm.

The High Priest finally opened the ancient marriage scroll. His hands still shook.

"In the presence of the Moon Goddess..." "We gather to unite Alpha King Jasper Grayson…....and Emma Rowan..."

The words echoed through the sacred hall Emma barely heard them. She could feel hundreds of eyes burning into her.

Every emotion filled the temple with anger, confusion and envy. Lucien drew a deep breath.

"My King..." "Do you accept Emma Rowan..." "...to stand beside you as your mate…....your Queen….....and your equal until your final breath?"

Without the slightest hesitation… Jasper answered. "I do." The words struck the temple like thunder.

Several noblewomen burst into tears. One elderly lord nearly collapsed into his chair.

Victor Ashford's fingers tightened behind his back. This wasn't happening.

It couldn't be. Lucien slowly turned toward Emma. "And do you, Emma Rowan..."

Emma opened her mouth. "I…………"BOOM!

The temple doors slammed open with such force that every candle trembled. The sound echoed through the hall like a clap of thunder.

Hundreds of heads whipped toward the entrance. A lone figure stood in the doorway, chest heaving, his ceremonial robes torn from riding at full speed.

His silver eyes blazed with desperation. Crown Prince Ethan Grayson. His eyes locked onto Emma.

Then slowly shifted to the joined hands of his father and the woman he had rejected only three days earlier. His face went deathly pale.

"No..." he whispered. Then, loud enough for the entire kingdom to hear "Father... don't do this." you can’t marry her.

Years Before the Wedding The Rowan family had not always lived in poverty.

There was a time when the Rowan estate stood proudly on the eastern border of Valenmoor. Their fields stretched beyond the hills, their barns overflowed with grain, and the Rowan name was spoken with respect throughout the kingdom.

Richard Rowan had once been Gamma to the Grayson royal family, a trusted warrior whose loyalty had earned him honor, land, and a comfortable life. That was before fate began taking everything away.

It started with Emma's first mate rejection. Then came the second. After that...

Nothing was ever the same again. The first rays of dawn crept through the cracked windows of the tiny wooden cottage.

Emma Rowan was already awake. She quietly folded her blanket before glancing toward the small bed in the corner of the room.

Her mother was coughing again. Emma's smile disappeared. She hurried across the room and gently placed the back of her hand against Helen Rowan's forehead.

Still burning. The fever hadn't gone down. Helen slowly opened her eyes and smiled weakly.

"You've been watching me all night again." Emma forced a smile. "I wasn't sleepy."

"You've said that every night this week." Helen reached up and brushed a loose curl away from her daughter's face.

"My sweet girl..." "You need to start thinking about yourself." Emma chuckled softly.

"I can think about myself after you're better." Helen sighed. "You always say that."

Another violent cough interrupted her. Emma immediately reached for the clay cup beside the bed.

It was empty. She looked toward the shelf. Only a single pouch of herbs remained.

Enough for one more day. After that… Nothing.

"I'll boil fresh herbs." Helen caught her wrist. "There aren't any left." Emma lowered her eyes.

She already knew. She had counted them yesterday. Still...

She couldn't bear saying it aloud. Outside, the sound of an axe striking wood echoed through the quiet morning. Richard. Emma quietly stood. "I'll make breakfast."

Breakfast consisted of thin porridge. Mostly water. Barely enough oats to give it color.

Emma carried the bowls to the table. Richard entered moments later. His broad shoulders seemed heavier than they once had.

His beard had begun turning gray long before his age demanded it. Years of worry had stolen the proud warrior he used to be.

He sat without saying a word. Emma placed the largest bowl in front of him. The second before her mother. The smallest… Before herself.

Richard noticed. "You always do that." Emma looked up. "Do what?" "Give yourself the least."

She smiled. "I'm not very hungry." He stared at her. Then silently switched their bowls.

Emma blinked. "Father..." "You need your strength." His voice remained flat. "You work harder than either of us."

It wasn't affection. Not quite. But it was the closest thing to kindness Richard had shown in weeks.

They ate in silence. The only sound came from Helen's occasional cough. When breakfast ended...

A knock echoed against the front door. Richard frowned. "Who would come this early?"

He opened it. Standing outside was the village healer. The elderly man's face immediately answered every question Richard wanted to ask.

"I'm sorry." Richard's jaw tightened. "I brought what I could." He held out three silver coins.

The healer didn't take them. "The new medicine costs twelve." Richard's shoulders slowly slumped. "I'll earn the rest."

"You've been saying that for three months." "I know." "The suppliers won't send more medicine until the debt is paid." Helen slowly appeared behind Emma. "It's alright."

She smiled gently. "I've lived a good life." Richard suddenly exploded. "No!" The healer flinched.

Richard slammed his fist against the doorframe. "I'm not losing you." Helen's eyes filled with tears.

The healer quietly lowered his head. "I truly am sorry." Then he left. No one spoke for a long time.

Finally… Richard grabbed his old hunting coat. "I'm going to the village." Emma immediately stood.

"I'll come." "No." "I can help." "No." His voice came out harsher than intended. Emma froze. Richard sighed.

"I'm sorry." He rubbed his forehead. "I just..." "I need to think." Without another word… He walked out.

The village of Oakridge had already begun its morning routine. Merchants opened their stalls.

Children chased one another through the streets. Women gathered around the communal well.

The conversations stopped the moment Richard appeared. He noticed. Whispers followed him everywhere now. "There goes the Rowan Gamma." "Former Gamma." "They say his daughter has been rejected twice."

"No wonder the Moon Goddess abandoned them." "My son says her wolf is barely stronger than a pup."

"And she's far too big to ever become a Luna." Richard clenched his jaw. Years ago… Those same people had bowed to him.

Now… They pitied him. Or worse… Mocked him. He ignored them and continued walking. Maybe the blacksmith needed help. Anything that would earn enough silver to save Helen.

Instead… A familiar voice stopped him. "Richard Rowan." He turned slowly.

Two finely dressed men stood beneath the ancient oak tree overlooking the marketplace.

Their black robes carried the silver crest of the Royal Council. Villagers immediately lowered their heads as the councilmen approached.