The Luna’s Shadow

Chapter3

The journey to the Bloodmoon Pack felt longer than it should have. Ciara sat stiffly in the back of the carriage, the velvet cushions beneath her doing little to soften the weight pressing on her chest. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, knuckles white, nails digging into her palms as if pain could anchor her. Every mile they covered only deepened the hollow ache inside her. She tried to breathe, to calm herself, but her mind would not stop replaying the moment Damian’s teeth pierced her skin. The searing burn of his mark still lingered at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, a reminder that what she thought was impossible had, against all odds, happened. The mate bond, real, alive, thrumming beneath her skin like wildfire. Her heart clenched. She had felt it, his essence pulling at hers, locking them together in a bond that should have been sacred, beautiful, life altering. But instead, all she had seen in Damian’s eyes afterward was fury, fury and disgust. His jaw had been tight, his lips curled as if even touching her was a stain.

He didn’t want me. He never wanted me, she thought to herself.

That thought carved her from the inside out. She had known the marriage wasn’t meant for her; she had accepted the shame of wearing her sister’s veil, of being led down the aisle in a stolen place but she hadn’t expected the universe to twist the knife. Fate had bound her to him for real, in front of both their packs, as if mocking them both. Ciara pressed her forehead to the cool window glass, blinking away the tears blurring her vision. She couldn’t cry, not now, not where anyone might see. Her mother’s words after the ceremony still rang in her ears: “Do well, Ciara. Don’t embarrass us, this alliance must hold”, she said as she hugged her goodbye.

No one cared how she felt, not her mother, not her pack, not Damian. She was nothing more than a pawn on the board, moved to secure peace, her heart and soul be damned. When the carriage finally crested the ridge overlooking Bloodmoon territory, Ciara’s breath caught. The pack lands stretched wide below, nestled in a valley of shadowed pines and snow dusted peaks. It was beautiful in a stark, untamed way, so unlike her home. Strong, unyielding and unwelcoming. The moment the wheels rolled past the stone arch that marked the entrance to the Bloodmoon Pack, she knew she was no longer safe. This wasn’t her home, this was his kingdom. Two guards waited at the gates of the grand stone fortress that served as the pack house. Their expressions were unreadable, their bodies tense as they bowed slightly before leading her inside. Ciara kept her head lowered, clutching the folds of her gown tightly as her footsteps echoed against the vast, cold corridors where they turned her over to an elderly looking woman who nodded at her before leading her into the building. Finally, they stopped before a chamber, she pushed the heavy wooden door open, gesturing inside.

“This will be your room”, she said simply, before stepping back. The door shut behind her with a thud that sounded final.

Ciara swallowed hard, her gaze sweeping over the space. It was beautiful, lavish, even with a massive bed draped in crimson silk, gilded mirrors and a roaring fire in the hearth. But to her, it felt like a gilded cage. She was trapped here, in this strange pack, married to a man who loathed her, bound to him in ways she had never wanted. Servants soon arrived, bustling quietly as they helped her change from her wedding gown into a silk robe, brushing out her hair and leaving trays of food on the table. They whispered polite words but she caught the way they stared at the mark on her neck, as if questioning how it could exist. When they finally left, Ciara was alone. The hours dragged on. Shadows lengthened, the fire burned low and the food on the table grew cold. Ciara sat by the window, watching the moon climb higher, her stomach twisted in knots. As the minutes ticked by she finally came to a realization, she told herself he wouldn’t come, that Damian would never touch her, that the night would end in silence and yet every creak of the floorboards outside made her heart race, every passing footstep had her breath catching. At last, the door opened.

Damian strode in, tall and imposing, his presence filling the room instantly. He didn’t spare her more than a glance as he crossed to the desk in the corner, rifling through papers before grabbing a leather bound folder. His jaw was set, his movements sharp, as if every second spent here was an annoyance and then he began to walk towards the door. Ciara rose hesitantly, her robe falling around her in soft folds.

“Damian-”

He paused, his hand tightening on the folder. Slowly, he turned to face her. His eyes, dark and burning, swept over her once and Ciara felt herself shrink under the weight of his gaze.

“So eager already?”, he sneered, his voice laced with venom. “Did you think I’d rush in here to claim you, to make you feel like the Luna you tricked your way into becoming?”, he asked.

Ciara flinched.

“That’s not- I didn’t-”, she tried to explain.

He cut her off with a harsh laugh.

“Save it. You think I don’t see it? You stole your sister’s place, dressed in her gown, wore her veil, her jewels. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, you somehow managed to force the bond. Some trickery, some… foul play”, he accused her harshly.

Her throat tightened.

“I didn’t force anything. You marked me. The bond, it just… happened”, she explained, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes flashed. “Don’t lie to me. Fate doesn’t make mistakes, you were never meant to be mine but you forced it anyway. You disgust me”, he spat spitefully.

The words landed like blows, each syllable carving deeper into her heart. Ciara shook her head, tears stinging her eyes.

“I never wanted this either. I begged my mother- I tried to stop it. But no one would listen. And now-”, her voice broke. “Now I’m bound to someone who wishes I didn’t exist”, she added finally, breaking down.

For a fraction of a second, something flickered in Damian’s gaze, hesitation, maybe even doubt but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced with the same cold fury.

“You’re right, I wish you didn’t exist. But since you do, remember this: I will never feel anything for you. Whatever bond you think ties us means nothing. You are nothing”, he said flatly.

He turned then, striding toward the door, folder in hand.

“Damian, wait- please-”, Ciara began to plead but the door slammed shut behind him, leaving her words hanging in the empty air.

Ciara sank to the floor, her body trembling, sobs breaking free from the depths of her throat. The bond pulsed inside her, aching for a connection he had just severed with his cruelty. Her chest hurt so badly she thought she might shatter. For the first time, the full weight of her reality pressed down on her. She wasn’t just unwanted, she was despised and this was her life now, trapped in a loveless bond, in an enemy pack, tied to a man who swore he would never care for her.