The Luna he chose

Episode3

The Shift



“Serena?”

The sound of my name cut through the music, and everything inside me went still. I turned, lyra stood a few steps away, perfectly composed as always, as though the entire hall had been arranged around her presence. The chandeliers above caught the midnight blue dress she wore, scattering soft light across it with every slight movement. My dress. For a moment I couldn’t look away, not because it looked beautiful on her, but because it wasn’t supposed to be on her at all.

The familiar ache returned instantly. The bedroom, the argument, my mother and how she said, It’s only a dress. Beside me, Ronan followed my gaze. I felt his attention sharpen slightly, as though he had noticed something shift inside me. Whether he understood the reason for it or not, I couldn’t tell.

“Do you know each other?” he asked. The question should have been simple, but it wasn’t. There were years hidden inside that question. Years of swallowed disappointments, quiet sacrifices, and learning that being the easier daughter usually meant getting less. Before I could answer, Lyra stepped forward with a bright smile.

“She’s my sister.” Her voice was smooth. Effortless. Like the word meant something uncomplicated. Like it had never been anything else. Ronan’s gaze shifted to me, not briefly. Not dismissively, not properly, as though the answer wasn’t complete without mine.

“That so?” I swallowed. “Yes.” His eyes lingered for a second longer than necessary, “Interesting.” Just one word, nothing more. Yet somehow it felt like he had noticed something the rest of the room hadn't. Lyra laughed softly and extended her hand. “Lyra Ashwood.” Ronan took it politely. “Ronan Blackthorne.” “As if anyone here doesn’t already know that.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly before settling again. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Lyra continued.

“I hope only the good things.” “That depends on who you ask.” “Fair enough.” The exchange was easy. Comfortable, exactly the sort of conversation Lyra excelled at. She knew how to make people like her. How to guide discussions, how to become the center of attention without looking like she was trying, and it worked every time. But tonight, something felt different. Because every time I convinced myself Ronan had forgotten I was standing there, I would glance up and find his attention returning to me. Not openly, not enough for anyone else to call it out, just enough for me to notice.

“You’ve attended the gathering before?” Lyra asked.

“Once.” “Only once?” “My responsibilities usually keep me elsewhere.” “I imagine someone in your position doesn’t have much free time.” “Not much.” His answers were short. Measured. He wasn’t rude. He simply didn’t seem interested in speaking more than necessary. Lyra, however, didn’t appear discouraged. “You’re quieter than I expected.”

“Am I?”

“A little.”

“I’ve been told worse.”

That earned a soft laugh from her.

For some reason, I found myself hiding a smile behind my glasses. Ronan noticed, of course he noticed. His gaze shifted toward me. “What?” The question escaped before I could stop it. “Something amusing?” Heat immediately rushed to my face.

“No.”

One eyebrow lifted.

“No?”

I sighed, “You sound disappointed.”

To my surprise, that earned the faintest hint of amusement.

“Do I?” “A little.”

For the first time, his expression softened.

“Interesting.” “There’s that word again.”

Something flickered in his eyes.

“You noticed.”

Before I could answer, Lyra smoothly stepped back into the conversation, “Alpha Ronan, what do you think of the gathering?” His attention moved away from me. “It’s impressive.” The relief on Lyra’s face was subtle, almost invisible. I still caught it. “The Ashwood Pack works very hard to make it successful every year.” “I can see that.” The pride in her smile brightened. For the next few minutes she guided the conversation effortlessly, speaking about the gathering, the visiting packs, and the preparations that went into hosting an event of this size. I mostly listened. Or at least I tried to. Because every few minutes Ronan would ask me something. Not Lyra, me.

“What about you?” I blinked, “What about me?” “What do you think of it?” Before I could answer, Lyra laughed. “Serena hates gatherings.” “I do not, I just hate being trapped in gatherings. “ That seemed to catch his attention immediately. “There’s a difference? Ronan asked.” “A significant one I replied,” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I would like to hear that explanation.” “It’s really not that interesting.”

“I disagree.” The response was simple, quiet, yet somehow it landed harder than it should have. For a second, I found myself staring at him. Not because of what he said, but because he sounded sincere. Before I could answer, Lyra stepped in again. “She prefers books to people.”

“Books are usually quieter, I quickly interrupted. “That earned the reaction I had been trying to avoid. A low laugh escaped him, warm and genuine. The sound settled somewhere unexpectedly deep inside my chest.

“You make people sound exhausted.” “Because they are.” Another laugh. This time I noticed a few guests glancing in our direction. Not because of me, but because. Alpha Ronan Blackthorne was laughing. And somehow I was the reason. The realization made me immediately uncomfortable. Lyra noticed too. “I didn’t realize you knew Serena.” The statement sounded casual, but I knew it wasn’t.I knew exactly what she meant. Why are you talking to her? Why are you paying attention to her? Why are you standing with her? For the first time since she arrived, something in her composure felt strained. Not enough for anyone else to notice. Enough for me. Ronan didn’t answer immediately. The pause stretched. Long enough to matter. Long enough for everyone to become aware of it. Then he said,

“We just met.” Simple, clean, harmless. Yet somehow it felt like the wrong answer. At least from Lyra’s perspective, because her smile tightened for the briefest moment before returning.

“Oh.” Something about that single syllable told me she didn’t like it. The silence that followed lasted only a second. Lyra recovered quickly, she always did. “Maybe we could talk somewhere quieter?” The invitation was smooth, elegant, carefully timed. For a moment, Ronan said nothing. His gaze settled on me once more. Steady, thoughtful, as though he was trying to figure something out. Then he nodded.

“Alright.”

Relief flashed briefly across Lyra’s face. There and gone. I took a step backward, then another, the conversation was over. Whatever happened next had nothing to do with me, or at least that was what I told myself. I had just started turning away when a familiar voice stopped me.

“Serena.”

My breath caught, I looked back. Ronan was watching me, not just casually, but directly. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said. My heart skipped, the words settled somewhere deep inside my chest. Then, with the faintest trace of amusement still lingering in his eyes, he added, “I will be right back.” For a second, nobody moved. Not me, not Lyra, not even the air between us. Then Ronan turned away and allowed Lyra to guide him into the crowd. I watched him disappear into the crowd beside Lyra and forced myself to look away. Maybe he was just being polite. I’m sure he had forgotten about me. Because men like Alpha Ronan Blackthorne didn’t remember girls like me, and that will make sense. But what didn't make sense?

was why he told me not to leave.