His Luna In Name Only: His Plus-Sized Mate

A narrow bed

Mirellie

The bed creaked beneath me as I turned again, the thin mattress dipping awkwardly under my weight. I shifted onto my side, then onto my back, then back to my side again, trying to find a position that didn’t make my body ache.

There wasn’t one.

The bed was too small and too narrow. My legs had to stay folded slightly just to fit, and every time I stretched even a little, my knee brushed against the rough wooden frame. I exhaled slowly, forcing my body to settle, but the discomfort clung to me like everything else had today.

Everything about this room felt… temporary. Like I wasn’t meant to stay. Like I didn’t belong here either.

My eyes stayed open, fixed on the ceiling above me—the uneven cracks, the faint stains, the shadows cast by the weak light filtering in through the small window.

At least there was a window. That alone made it better than the room I had back at my father’s house.

A humorless breath slipped from my lips. That was how low the bar had been set for me. Better than before.

Even if “better” still felt like this.

My chest tightened slightly, and I turned again, the bed groaning softly beneath me.

Sleep wouldn’t come. It had been hours. I had climbed into bed exhausted—physically, emotionally, everything—but the moment I closed my eyes, my mind refused to quiet.

It kept replaying everything. Calliope’s smile. Evander’s voice that told me to ‘Vacate the room.’

I swallowed, my throat dry, my body stiff as I stared at the wall. Before this… before I ended up here, I had stood outside that room for over an hour.

Just standing there and watching as maids moved in and out of it. They carried in fabrics, small carved furniture, delicate baskets lined with soft cloth. I had caught glimpses of pale-colored blankets, tiny folded garments, things meant for the baby.

Everything was for the baby. For her. No one looked at me. No one spoke to me. They acted like I was invisible.

I had just stood there, holding the small pile of things I had carried out, waiting for… something. I didn’t even know what I was waiting for.

Permission? Acknowledgment? Anything. But nothing came.

Until one of the maids finally approached me, her expression polite but distant, and told me she had been instructed to show me my room.

My room.

I had followed her quietly, my steps slow, my mind already preparing itself for whatever I was about to see.

Still, even then, part of me had hoped, just a little, that it wouldn’t be… this.

The door had creaked when she pushed it open. Dust greeted me first. The faint, stale scent of something long unused. Boxes stacked in one corner, old cloth thrown over forgotten items, the floor marked with uneven patches where things had been dragged and left.

A storage room. Not even cleaned before I was brought there.

“This will be your room,” the maid had said.

Just like that and I nodded. Of course I had because what else was I supposed to do?

I spent hours cleaning it. Dust clung to my skin, my throat, my lungs. I had coughed more times than I could count, my chest burning slightly from the effort, but I kept going.

Because if I didn’t clean it… no one else would. Because if I didn’t make this space livable… no one cared enough to.

By the time I was done, the room was still small.

Still bare and still far from comfortable, but at least it didn’t feel abandoned anymore.

At least it didn’t feel like I had been thrown somewhere people forgot existed.

I turned again on the bed, pulling the thin covering slightly closer to my body. It barely helped. The fabric was too light and very worn out.

With how uncomfortable the bed was, more than once, I had thought about sleeping on the floor.

The thought lingered as I stared at the bed earlier, wondering if it would be easier, if it would hurt less but there was nothing to lay down. No thick blankets, no proper bedding and I knew that no matter how warm my body ran as a werewolf, with time, the cold would eventually seep in.

So I remained on the bed instead and now, here I was, still awake, still restless and still unsettled.

I turned again, squeezing my eyes shut this time, forcing my body to relax.

Sleep.

Just sleep.

But it wouldn’t come. It stayed just out of reach, like everything else had. My fingers curled slightly against the thin sheet.

Was it just today? Was it because of everything that had happened? Or… was it something else?

A faint prickling started at the back of my neck. I frowned slightly, lifting a hand to rub it. It didn’t go away. It spread slowly like something was crawling beneath my skin.

I shifted again, sitting up slightly, my brows drawing together. That wasn’t normal.

The feeling grew stronger, sharper, and then my chest tightened so suddenly and like something was pressing down on it.

My breath caught as I pushed myself into a sitting position fully now, my hand pressing lightly against my chest as I inhaled slowly.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Was I having a panic attack?

Maybe everything was finally catching up with me.

The ceremony, the mating bond, the humiliation and the way everything had changed overnight.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself, but the tightness didn’t ease. If anything, it got worse.

A soft, broken whimper echoed inside me.

My wolf.

She curled in on herself, restless, uneasy. Hurt.

‘Our mate hates us.’ The thought came quietly from her.

My chest tightened even further.

‘He chose someone else.’

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening slightly against the fabric beneath me.

Evander didn’t just choose my sister in front of everyone—he made it clear that he wanted her. There was no hesitation in his voice, no doubt in his actions. He didn’t even try to hide it.

And me… I was just there. A mistake. A problem. Something forced on him.

My throat burned. I lowered my gaze, staring at nothing as the thoughts settled deeper, heavier.

I wasn’t just Mirellie anymore. I was Luna now.

The title felt foreign and unreal in my mind like it didn’t belong to me. Because it didn’t feel like it did.

How was I supposed to do this? How was I supposed to stand in front of a pack that had never respected me… and lead them?

I wasn’t trained for this. I wasn’t raised for this. I wasn’t— Calliope.

The thought alone made something twist painfully inside me.

She was everything they wanted. Everything they expected. Everything I wasn’t. Slim, graceful, confident, admired. People listened to her. People liked her. People chose her.

My fingers curled into the thin sheet.

No one chose me. Not even my mate.

A sharp ache bloomed at the back of my head. I winced slightly, lifting a hand to press against it.

It started small and dull and then it grew, spreading slowly, steadily, until it pulsed behind my eyes.

My breathing faltered.

The pain in my chest, the ache in my head, the restlessness under my skin, It was too much. Everything was too much. What was my life supposed to be now?

Would I just… exist here while they lived like nothing had changed? Would I stand beside him in name…?While he chose her every time? Would I be expected to watch them?

Smile? Pretend?

The thought made my stomach twist. My wolf whimpered again, softer this time, curling tighter into herself.

This isn’t right. This isn’t ours.

The bond pulsed faintly in my chest, like it was alive, like it was trying to pull, to reach out, but there was nothing on the other end.

Nothing warm. Nothing welcoming. Just resistance and rejection.

Tears filled my eyes before I could stop them. Hot and heavy.

I blinked fast to push them back, but they spilled over anyway, sliding silently down my temples. I slowly lowered myself back onto the bed, my body feeling heavier now, weaker and drained.

I didn’t fight the tears this time. I didn’t stop them. I just let them fall. Because there was no one here to see. No one here to care.

The ceiling blurred above me as my vision filled, my chest rising and falling unevenly as everything I had been holding in finally slipped through the cracks.

The pain. The humiliation. The fear. It all came at once.

And I had nowhere to put it. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to belong.

The ache in my head throbbed harder, heavier, until it felt like it was consuming everything else.

My thoughts slowed and blurred and slowly… the darkness took me.