The Alpha’s Reluctant Luna

Reza tastes blood. She isn’t sure if it’s hers. The ropes around her wrists burn as the rogue shoves her forward again. Gravel cuts into her knees when she stumbles, but she doesn’t make a sound. Showing weakness to rogues is like bleeding in water full of sharks. They smell it. They enjoy it. “Careful,” one of them laughs behind her. “The Alpha will want his little Luna alive.” The words twist in her chest. Aaron. For a moment she closes her eyes and reaches for the bond between them. It’s still there. Faint. Furious. Somewhere far away, her mate is going to feel this. Good. The rogue camp comes into view through the trees. Fires burning low, shadows moving between tents, wolves who have forgotten what it means to belong to a pack. One of them grabs her arm and drags her toward the center of the camp. “You really should have stayed in your packhouse, healer,” he says with a grin. Reza lifts her head slowly. “You really should have killed me when you had the chance.” The rogue laughs. But behind her ribs, Starla is already rising. And somewhere far away in the forest, An Alpha is coming. __________ Three months earlier. Reza I had no idea leaving my pack would start a war. But here I am, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and forcing a crooked smile onto my face, even though my chest feels tight. Leaving shouldn’t feel this heavy. Not when this is something I chose. Not when this is something I worked so hard for. My father stands in front of me, broad-shouldered and unmoving, like he’s been carved straight out of the land of the Half Moon Pack itself. As Beta, he has always been a pillar. Strong, fair, dependable. Alpha Eric and my father have been best friends since they were barely more than pups, and my dad trained his entire life for the place he holds now, right beside his Alpha. He doesn’t say anything at first. He just pulls me into a tight embrace. This makes three. My mother steps closer, her hand coming up to rub slow circles over my back. Her eyes are watery, and I can’t tell if she’s trying to comfort me or herself. Probably both. She’s always been like that. Quietly strong, quietly emotional. I sigh into my father’s chest. “At the rate this farewell is going, I’ll never make it out of town before the sun sets, Dad.” My voice comes out muffled against his shirt. If anything, his grip tightens. He lets out a shaky breath before finally stepping back, his arms dropping to his sides like they weigh a hundred pounds each. For a moment, he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. I laugh softly, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t know if you were trying to keep me here or actually suffocate me.” “It’s not easy,” he says quietly, then leans down to press a kiss to my forehead. “Seeing my little girl leave.” “I’m not a little girl anymore..” I start, but my mom interrupts before I can finish. She cups my face between her hands, forcing me to look at her. Her expression turns serious, the way it does when she’s addressing a classroom full of unruly pups. “If anything happens,” she says firmly, “and I mean anything, you let us know immediately. No hesitation.” I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “I will, Mom.” She’s a primary school teacher in our pack. Small, slim, with long deep red hair twisted into a bun and secured by her ever-present pencil. She looks fragile to strangers, but I know better. She’s fast. Faster than most wolves. Believe me, I’ve tried to outrun her more than once. I step back and gesture toward my car, trying to inject some optimism into the moment. “I’ll be fine. Especially with this beauty. She’ll take me wherever I need to go.” Starla snorts loudly in my head. She does not agree. We’ve been arguing about me taking the car for days. According to Starla, running will be faster, more natural, and far less humiliating. I don’t want to restart that debate, so I ignore her and slide my hand over the roof of the car appreciatively. When I first told my parents I wanted to leave the pack to work elsewhere, the shock on their faces still haunts me. I was born here. Raised here. Trained here. Leaving wasn’t something anyone expected from the Beta’s daughter. But after years of intense training as a pack doctor, staying felt… suffocating. You’d think I’d want to work in my own pack’s hospital, but the truth is harsh. Our village already has a doctor, and because the pack is small, there’s barely room for one. The treatment rooms are cramped, and innovation is treated like an insult. The doctor in charge believes modern medicine is a joke. He relies entirely on outdated methods, refusing to adapt. The pups aren’t closely monitored. Their training schedules aren’t tailored to strengths or weaknesses. That’s my specialty. I tried to change things. I really did. But with only five pups eligible for the program and a pack that resists new ideas, it felt like fighting a losing battle. I’m twenty-five years old. Unmated. And painfully bored wandering through a hospital that doesn’t need me. I did try, for my parents’ sake, to find my mate. I attended the annual coming-of-age mating gatherings, surrounded by hopeful wolves and heavy expectations. Nothing. No spark. No pull. No sense of recognition. For all I know, my mate avoids those gatherings entirely. Maybe he doesn’t want a mate. If that’s the case, I almost admire him. It’s not exactly uplifting to watch everyone around you find their other half while you linger on the sidelines, smiling politely. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for them. Truly. I’d just like to feel complete too. Wolves aren’t whole without their destined mate. That’s what we’re taught from the moment we can understand the words. Sometimes I wonder if he died. In a battle. As a child. Or worse, what if the Moon Goddess simply made a mistake? Divine errors happen all the time, right? No. I refuse to wait my entire life for something that might never come. I’d rather move forward than stay rooted in place, hoping fate remembers me. That realization solidified as my friends began finding their mates one by one. Watching them build their futures made something restless grow inside me. Even Starla, who has days where she aches for our other half, agrees on this. We can’t force fate. My dad always taught me to move forward. That’s exactly what we’re doing. I turn to my best friends, Mary and Christel, and pull them both into a tight hug. “I’m going to miss you so much,” I whisper, my voice betraying me. Starting over without them feels daunting. We’ve been inseparable since we learned how to walk. We’ve hunted together, studied together, laughed until we cried. Even after they found their mates, they never left my side. “We’ll miss you too,” Christel says, her voice trembling. Mary nods. “I hope you find your mate there.” I pull back and roll my eyes, forcing a grin. “Or you both reject yours and come with me. We’ll turn my apartment into a bachelorette shack.” Their shocked expressions are priceless. “I’m kidding,” I add quickly. “Mostly.” After one last hug, I glance around the clearing. “Where’s Thom?” Christel shrugs. “He went for a run. You know he doesn’t agree with you leaving.” I force a smile. “Is that because he cares about me… or because he doesn’t like losing control?” Mary laughs softly. “I think we all know the answer to that one.” The absence still stings. Thom and I dated years ago, before he found his mate. Wolves can date, but there’s always an unspoken rule, when one finds their destined mate, it’s over. Thom found his four years ago. I stepped back immediately. He didn’t. His possessiveness is part of why I’m leaving. “His loss,” I murmur, though disappointment curls in my stomach. - Don’t let him ruin this, Starla says gently. We’re moving forward. I nod to her in agreement. With one final round of hugs and promises to call, I get into my car. The pack members step aside, clearing the sandy road leading out of the village. As I drive away, waving and honking, my chest aches. Bittersweet. This is goodbye. And this is the beginning.