The Unchosen Luna

Chapter four: The Masked Stranger

Today was the day—

the day my father had been waiting for with an eagerness that almost sickened me. He looked forward to this visitor as though the man were some prophesied savior, the Messiah sent to fix everything.

But for me—Nico—

the day carried no light. I was still grieving Ava. Her death struck deeper than any blade could.

To anyone else, she was the quiet girl who minded her business. To me, she was everything. The sister I never had. The shield when my father was absent. The one person I could argue with fiercely, only to make up with laughter hours later.

Now she was gone, and the silence she left behind hurt worse than the noise of war.

A soft chuckle escaped me as I tilted my face toward the sky. The sunlight burned against my eyes, but instead of pain, I felt a fleeting sense of relief—like Ava was somewhere up there, still watching me.

“Princess Nico!”

I turned quickly, adjusting my cap out of habit. Manna stood behind me.

“Yes, Manna,” I answered, my tone slipping softer than it should have been. She might have been a servant, but I couldn’t treat her with less respect than I gave my father.

“The alpha requests that you come and taste the meal we’ve prepared for the visitor.”

I nodded absently, following her—until the horns blared.

The ground trembled beneath us as a fleet of cars sped past with reckless force. Instinctively, I yanked Manna to the side. We both tumbled, dust kicking up into our faces. She scraped her arm, but I’d rather her bleed than be crushed under their wheels.

“Those must be the alpha’s visitors,” Manna muttered, her irritation clear.

I laughed breathlessly, brushing dirt from my trousers. By now, I was covered in dust, my leather boots and fitted top doing nothing to save my dignity.

The cars stopped at the palace gates—sleek black machines lined up like soldiers, with one long white car gleaming at the center. Its polished tires gleamed in the sun.

“What’s that one called?” I murmured, squinting.

Manna stifled a laugh. “You’re asking me?”

I pouted, rolling my eyes. “Fine. I’ll stop pretending I know anything about cars.”

By the time we reached the palace, my father was already outside in his ceremonial robes. His face glowed with joy as the guest approached—tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a black mask. Strange silver engravings traced across its surface, eerie and beautiful all at once.

“Was his face burned?” I overheard a servant whisper. “Is that why he hides it?”

Their muffled chuckles made my jaw tighten.

From across the courtyard, Alpha Rowen caught my eye and signaled for me to smile. I resisted the urge to march over and punch him. Instead, I forced the kind of smile that never reached my eyes.

“Let us go in,” Father declared.

Inside, the feast stretched across the long oak table—apple pie, sweet berries, rice cakes, roasted meats. Every delicacy Moonshadow could offer was displayed in honor of this visitor.

“Thank you,” I said softly, nodding to the chefs.

The stranger tilted his head sharply, as though my gratitude startled him. When he finally removed his mask, his face revealed nothing extraordinary. Perhaps the mask was nothing but a ploy for attention. I scoffed under my breath, my spoon clattering too loudly against my plate.

“Nico,” Father said, his tone warning.

“No, Father,” I replied quickly, shaking my head.

Introductions circled the table until it was my turn. I met the stranger’s gaze directly. “I’m Nico, the alpha’s only child.”

For a moment, his eyes darkened. What had been grey shifted, just for a breath, into a sharp, unnatural red.

The sight made my stomach twist.

I forced my focus back to my plate, stabbing at the meat as though it had wronged me. The palace had become suffocating—death, secrets, obligations pressing down on me until I could barely breathe. All I wanted was to run. Into the woods. Anywhere quiet. Anywhere safe.

The thought broke as my chair scraped loudly against the floor. All eyes turned toward me as my glass slipped, shattering against the tiles.

“I’ll go to her,” Rowen began, but my father’s guest rose instead.

Rowen hesitated, then sat.

I fled to my room, reaching for the door handle—when a hand caught mine.

I spun. It was him.

The stranger.

Before I could move, a wave of scent crashed over me—wild, intoxicating, electric. My pulse stumbled.

“Don’t come any closer!” I snapped, pressing myself against the wall.

But he stepped closer anyway, until his body caged mine. His hand rose to my lips, silencing me. His touch set my blood on fire.

The word slipped from my lips before I could stop it.

“Mate.”

His eyes burned into mine, and for a heartbeat, the world stopped.

Then the dizziness came—blurring vision, pounding head. My knees buckled, and darkness pulled me under.

The last thing I felt was his warmth catching me before the cold floor did.

And as my consciousness slipped away, only one truth echoed in my mind:

He was my mate.

And this revelation would change everything.