Moonbound Mistake

Act I: Chapter Six - The Punishment

The days after the courtyard incident stretched like endless winters.

Lucien had always been cold, but now his cruelty sharpened into something more deliberate. If before he ignored me, now he noticed me only to wound.

It started with chores.

"Luna," he said mockingly one morning at breakfast, his voice laced with venom as warriors filled the hall.

"Since you insist on taking up space in my pack house, you can make yourself useful. The kitchens are short on hands. You'll scrub the floors."

The warriors chuckled. Some smirked openly, their laughter feeding off their Alpha's scorn. My cheeks burned, but I bowed my head, the bond in my neck throbbing with shame.

So I scrubbed.

On my knees, hands raw, while the kitchen staff whispered behind their hands and threw me pitying glances. I tried to focus on the work, on the sting of soap biting my skin instead of the sting of Lucien's words. But the ache in my chest deepened with every cruel task he assigned.

When he passed me in the halls, he made certain to stop, his eyes flicking at my hands, my dirtied dress, and then he'd smile. That cruel, sharp smile that cut deeper than any blade.

"Look at our Luna," he'd say loud enough for others to hear.

"Shining in her role."

The laughter that followed always left me trembling.

And it didn't stop there.

During pack gatherings, he made a point of calling on me to speak. My voice would falter, my words stumbling, and he would tilt his head in mock amusement.

"Is that all?" he'd ask coolly.

"Pathetic."

The pack laughed again. And I stood frozen, suffocating under the weight of their ridicule.

But it was worse when Elizer was near.

Whenever the Beta returned from his duties, Lucien's torment sharpened, as though my humiliation fed some hunger in him. If I carried a stack of books through the hall, Lucien would "accidentally" knock them from my arms, scattering them across the floor. When I bent to pick them up, his voice would slice the silence.

"Careful, Luna. Wouldn't want to trip and embarrass yourself again."

My chest burned with humiliation. And Elizer would always watch.

At first, his gaze was simply curious—studying me, perhaps wondering why I never protested. But over time, his frown deepened. His jaw would tighten, his hand flexing at his side as though he wanted to step forward but held himself back.

Until one night, he didn't.

It happened in the training grounds. Lucien had summoned me under the guise of "observing." I stood in the shadows while warriors sparred, their movements sharp, brutal, efficient. The air was thick with sweat and steel.

Lucien turned suddenly, his voice loud.

"Tell me, Raina—do you think you could last a single round against one of them? Or would you crumple before the first blow?"

The warriors laughed, their eyes flicking at me. My heart pounded, my hands twisting in my skirts. I wanted to vanish, to melt into the ground.

But Lucien wasn't finished.

"Perhaps we should let her try. What do you think, brothers? Let our Luna prove her worth."

The crowd roared with cruel amusement. My chest tightened until I could barely breathe.

And then Elizer stepped forward.

"That's enough."

His voice cut through the noise like thunder. The warriors stilled, uncertain.

Lucien's head turned sharply, his eyes narrowing at his Beta.

"You forget your place, Elizer," he said with a grin.

"No," Elizer said, his tone calm but firm.

"You forget yours. She is still your mate. Marked. Bound. You shame her, you shame yourself."

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating.

My breath caught, tears burning at the corners of my eyes. No one had ever spoken to me—not like this.

Lucien's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a fury so sharp it made my knees weaken. The bond pulsed, wild, angry, alive. For a moment, I swore his wolf was pressing against the surface, fighting his restraint.

The warriors glanced between them nervously, their Alpha and Beta standing in silent war.

Finally, Lucien's lips curved in a smile, but it was all teeth and no warmth.

"Careful, Elizer. Loyalty does not mean questioning your Alpha," he said, and proceeded to make me clean the training ground until I hurt myself.

The bruises didn't always show on my skin.

Some wounds ran deeper—words that cut sharper than claws, silences that weighed heavier than stones.

Lucien was merciless.

The more Elizer lingered near me, the more ruthless he became. At first, it was chores—endless scrubbing of floors, hauling water until my arms trembled, polishing boots until my knees ached. But then came the humiliation.

"Again," he barked one afternoon in the training yard, tossing a wooden bucket into the dirt.

I swallowed, my throat raw. My palms were already red and blistered from carrying the last load.

"I said again," Lucien repeated, his voice sharp as a whip. His eyes burned into me, unreadable but relentless.

I bent to lift the bucket. My arms shook, my breath shallow.

And then—

"I'll do it."

The voice was firm, steady. Elizer stepped forward, his hand closing around the handle before I could touch it. He didn't even look at Lucien—only at me, his expression calm, almost gentle.

Something inside me cracked. Gratitude, shame, longing—it tangled in my chest until it was hard to breathe.

Lucien's jaw flexed. His voice was cold steel.

"Stand down, Beta."

Elizer's grip tightened. His eyes flicked to Lucien now, sharp and unyielding.

"She's exhausted. This isn't training—it's punishment."

Whispers rippled among the warriors gathered nearby. My pulse raced.

Lucien took a step closer, his presence dark as a storm.

"You forget yourself, Elizer. Do not mistake my lenience for weakness."

Elizer's gaze didn't waver.

"And don't mistake cruelty for strength."

The air thickened, heavy with tension. Wolves shifted uneasily, glancing between them. No one dared move.

I shrank back, wishing I could disappear, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.

The bond inside me was a raging fire, feeding on their words. Lucien's anger seared me, scorching through the mark on my neck. Yet Elizer's quiet defiance soothed it, like cool water on burning flesh.

It hurt. It hurt so much I almost gasped aloud.

Because part of me wanted Elizer to keep standing there, shielding me. And another part—my bond—screamed that only Lucien should.

But Lucien didn't shield me. He never did.

"Enough," Lucien growled finally. His voice was low, deadly calm.

"She carries my mark. My decisions are mine alone." His eyes flicked to me—cold, sharp, and yet... something else burning beneath. Something dangerous.

Elizer hesitated, his hand still on the bucket. Then, slowly, he released it, his jaw tight. His gaze lingered on me for one heartbeat longer—long enough for Lucien to notice—before he stepped back.

The bucket clattered on the dirt again.

"Pick it up," Lucien ordered. His voice was quieter now, but it was quiet before lightning struck.

My hands trembled as I obeyed. The handle dug into my raw palms, the weight nearly toppling me. I staggered under its burden, shame burning hotter than exhaustion.

The warriors looked away. None of them would meet my eyes.

Only Elizer did. His expression wasn't pity—it was fury, barely leashed.

And Lucien saw it. I felt the bond tighten, a violent tug of his jealousy twisting through me.

That night, when I returned to my chamber, I curled into the corner and cried silently into my hands. Not just for the pain, not just for the endless humiliation—but for the ache that tore me in two.

Lucien's mark throbbed on my skin, alive with his presence even when he was far away. My heart cried for him even as my body recoiled from his cruelty.

And yet... when Elizer's face rose in my mind—his quiet defiance, the warmth in his eyes—I felt another sharp pain, one I couldn't name.

Because the bond would never allow it.

I could never be his.

The tears came harder, my chest heaving as I pressed myself tighter against the stone wall.

I hated Lucien for tormenting me.

I hated Elizer for noticing me.

And I hated myself most of all... for wanting what I could never have.

Elizer's jaw tightened, but he inclined his head slightly, refusing to back down entirely. His eyes flicked to me—steady, grounding—before he turned away.

Lucien's gaze followed him, and the weight of it was suffocating. Jealousy simmered there, sharp and unmistakable.

Then Lucien summoned me to the west wing. His words were a whip.

"You enjoy his attention, don't you?"

I froze, my breath hitching. "No—"

"Don't lie to me." His voice was low, dangerous. He stepped closer, the bond flaring so violently it nearly brought me to my knees. His hand brushed against the mark on my neck, sending sparks racing down my spine.

"You think he would claim you? That he would want what is mine?"

My lips trembled, but no words came.

His eyes burned into mine, storm-dark, furious—and beneath it all, something else. Something hungry. Something desperate.

And then, just as quickly, he stepped back.

"Get out of my sight," he said coldly.

I stumbled back into my chambers, my chest heaving, tears slipping down my cheeks. My heart ached with confusion, torn between fear, longing, and the unshakable truth that, no matter how cruel he was... my bond still cried out for him.

I curled against the wall, pressing my hand into the faint glow of his mark, sobbing silently into the night.