Moonbound Mistake

Act I: Chapter Four - The New Luna

The carriage jolted hard as it crossed the rough forest path. My body swayed with every bump, my hands gripping the wooden edge until my knuckles turned white.

I had left White Moon territory at dawn, escorted not as a daughter, not even as a guest—but as a burden.

My father hadn't even looked at me when he gave the order.

"Send her with them. She's no daughter of mine."

Seraphina had stood at his side, her lips curved into a cruel smile as she watched me dragged into the carriage like a prisoner. Her eyes glittered with a hatred so sharp it could cut. I wondered if she would ever forgive me. No—that was a lie. She would never forgive me, because forgiveness requires love, and my sister had never spared me an ounce of it.

Now, I stared out at the passing trees, my stomach twisting with dread. Every mile that took me closer to Silver Moon Pack felt like a noose tightening around my neck.

When the gates finally came into view, I froze.

The Silver Moon stronghold rose before me like a fortress carved into the mountainside. Black stone walls towered high, banners of silver and grey fluttering in the wind. Warriors lined the walls, their eyes sharp, their posture proud.

These weren't wolves like mine. These were predators born and bred for war.

The carriage doors opened with a harsh creak.

A warrior barked, "Out."

I swallowed hard, gathering my courage, and stepped down. My boots met the cold stone ground, and immediately I felt the weight of dozens of stares. The courtyard was full—warriors, servants, advisors—all gathered to witness the arrival of their new Luna.

The Luna they did not want.

Whispers slithered through the crowd.

"That's her?"

"She looks weak."

"She hasn't even shifted yet."

"Unworthy."

Heat burned my cheeks. My hands itched to cover my neck where Lucien's mark still glowed faintly under my skin. The whispers pierced me, but I forced my chin up. If they wanted to see a broken girl, I wouldn't give them that. Not yet.

Then he appeared.

Lucien.

He strode across the courtyard with the presence of a storm, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his jaw clenched in a way that made him seem carved from stone. His warriors bowed their heads as he passed, but his gaze was fixed only on me.

The bond flared the instant his eyes met mine.

My chest tightened, my breath caught. His scent—woodsmoke and steel—wrapped around me, and suddenly I felt like my wolf whined softly inside, aching for him. But of course I hadn't got one yet and I don't if I will get one.

Lucien's expression was ice.

He stopped before me, close enough that the heat of his body pressed against mine, yet his voice carried cold through the courtyard.

"This is Raina Thorne," he announced, his tone sharp, bitter.

"The Moon's cruel joke. Bound to me against my will."

The crowd murmured. My heart cracked.

Lucien's eyes never softened.

"Hear me, Silver Moon. She may carry my mark, but she will never carry my love. She is not my choice. She is not my Luna."

The words slammed into me like a blade.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe.

But the bond pulsed—angry, alive—rejecting his declaration. His jaw twitched, his nostrils flared, and I knew he felt it too.

The crowd whispered louder, unrest stirring. Some wolves looked at me with pity. Others with contempt. But all of them looked.

Lucien turned away sharply.

"Take her to the west wing. Guard her doors. She is to remain there until I decide otherwise."

I wanted to scream. To tell him I hadn't asked for this either. To tell him I had dreamed of love, of a mate who would look at me with warmth, not venom.

But my voice failed me.

I followed the guard silently, my body numb. The west wing was cold, shadowed, a place for castaways rather than honored Lunas. My chamber was large but barren, the bed stripped of comfort, the windows barred with iron.

The door slammed behind me.

And for the first time, I was alone.

I pressed my hand to my throat where his mark throbbed still, glowing faintly under my skin like a cruel brand. My wolf whined, restless, torn.

I hated him.

I needed him.

I hated myself for needing him.

My knees buckled and I sank to the floor, trembling as the truth echoed in my heart.

I was Luna of Silver Moon.

The Luna no one wanted.

The Luna my mate himself rejected.

But I was still bound.

And no matter how hard he tried to deny me...

Lucien was mine.

And fate wasn't done with us yet.

The west wing of the Silver Moon fortress was not a home. It was a prison.

The room I was shoved into was large, yes, but lifeless. Bare stone walls loomed over me, and the tall windows were barred with cold iron, letting in only fractured streams of light. The bed was stiff, the sheets scratchy, and the fireplace remained unlit no matter how much I begged.

The guards outside my door changed shifts twice a day, and every time I caught their eyes, I saw only disdain. They whispered when they thought I couldn't hear—calling me unworthy, mistake, curse. Some snickered as they slid trays of food into my room, the plates always lukewarm, sometimes half-filled.

I tried to ignore it. I told myself I was used to cruelty—after all, I had survived years of Seraphina's scorn and Father's punishments. But here...it felt heavier. Lonelier.

And worst of all? Lucien never came.

Not once.

Days passed. Then a week. Then two.

I stared at the door until my eyes ached, half-hoping, half-dreading it would open and he would step inside. But it never did. His scent lingered in the hallways sometimes, faint, like smoke carried by the wind—and each time, my chest tightened until I could hardly breathe.

The mark he'd left on my neck pulsed when he drew near, a cruel reminder that he was mine—even if he wanted no part of me.

At night, I dreamt of him. The bond dragged me into visions where his hands still held me, where his lips brushed my skin, where the heat of that night burned into me again and again. I woke each morning shaking, my body aching with a need I didn't understand.

And every morning, I remembered his words in the courtyard.

"She is not my Luna."

I hated myself for craving someone who despised me.

The days blurred together. The healers came once, Gina among them, to check the mark. She whispered to me that it could not be undone—not until the Red Moon rose again, a year from now. My heart dropped at her words, but I thanked her anyway. At least someone dared to speak to me with kindness.

The rest of the pack? They wanted nothing to do with me.

Finally, after nearly three weeks, the door opened—not with Lucien's presence, but with another warrior's order.

"The Alpha commands you return to school. You are to be escorted daily. Do not mistake this for freedom."

School.

My heart fluttered and sank all at once.

Part of me was relieved—I couldn't stay locked away forever, wasting away in a room that felt more like a tomb. But another part trembled at the thought of facing my classmates, of walking halls filled with wolves who would sneer, laugh, and whisper about me.

Still, I dressed quietly in the simple clothes they provided. No silks. No gowns. Just plain fabric that marked me as something far less than a Luna.

As I followed the guard out of the west wing, whispers rose again in the corridors.

"That's her..."

"She trapped him."

"She'll never last."

My stomach twisted, but I kept walking, head high even as heat burned my cheeks.

Lucien was nowhere in sight.

Of course he wasn't.

He hadn't looked at me since the day I arrived. Hadn't spoken my name, hadn't sought me out. His coldness tormented me more than if he had yelled, more than if he had punished me openly. Because silence...silence was emptier than any wound.

And so I went to school, carrying not just my books—but the weight of being unwanted, unworthy, unchosen.

Yet even as I walked through the gates, the bond throbbed within me, unrelenting, whispering of a truth neither of us could escape.

Lucien may deny me.

The pack may scorn me.

But the Moon had bound us.

And whether they liked it or not...

I was here to stay.