The Luna’s Shadow

Chapter4

Two weeks had passed since the wedding, and still the silence of the Bloodmoon's pack house still felt too heavy for Ciara to bear. Morning light streamed through the wide windows of her chamber, painting golden streaks across the polished wooden floor. She sat before her vanity, her hair cascading like molten silver down her back as her personal maid, Katie, gently worked a comb through the strands. Katie hummed under her breath, a little tune that always seemed to lighten the air. Ciara had noticed that about her, Katie never spoke too much, but her presence was warm, almost sisterly and in the quiet isolation of this house, where her husband barely spared her a glance, that warmth was becoming more of a comfort than Ciara would ever admit aloud.

“You have soft hair, my lady”, Katie said with a small smile, carefully pinning up Ciara’s hair.

“Like spun silk. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it”, she added.

Ciara gave a soft laugh, though it carried no real joy.

“Perhaps it is the only thing remarkable about me. My husband certainly seems to think so”, she said the last part with a hint of self depreciation.

Katie hesitated, her hands faltering slightly in Ciara’s hair before continuing.

“The alpha has… responsibilities, heavy ones. I’m sure his distance isn’t about you”, she reassured her.

Ciara caught Katie’s eyes in the mirror. She wanted to believe those words but the truth was harder. In the two weeks since the ceremony, Damian had treated her with little more regard than a political alliance. They slept in separate chambers, rarely shared a meal and when they did cross paths in the grand hallways, his gaze slid over her like she was a ghost, something seen but not touched. Still, she had a duty and today she intended to fulfill it.

“We are hosting Elder Rowan this afternoon. Damian promised he would join me. The elder has been waiting for weeks for a proper audience with both of us”, Ciara said as Katie fastened the last pin in place.

Katie’s brows knitted slightly as she straightened Ciara’s gown, a deep sapphire dress that complimented her pale skin.

“Do you think he will come?”, she asked carefully.

Ciara’s lips curved downward in the faintest shadow of a smile.

“I doubt it. But one can hope, can’t they?”, Ciara replied.

The hope was fragile, almost foolish. Every evening since their wedding, she had told herself Damian’s indifference was a passing storm that one day soon he would turn to her, truly see her and the bond between them would ignite. Yet the storm never broke, each morning came with silence, and each night ended with her sleeping alone.

~~

Far across the house, in the heavily guarded wing known as the war room, Damian sat at the head of a long oak table, his shoulders tense, his jaw set in the grim line that had become permanent these past weeks. Around him, his council argued in low but urgent tones, parchment maps spread across the table, their borders marked with inked lines of threat.

“Darius has been moving closer to the western ridge”, Beta Marcus said, his hand slamming against the map. “His patrols have crossed into our hunting grounds twice this week. If we don’t respond, he’ll think us weak”, he pointed out.

Damian’s eyes burned with frustration as he stared at the map. Darius, the rival Alpha of the Blackfang pack, wasn’t merely testing boundaries. He was pushing for war and war was the last thing Damian could afford, not when the Bloodmoon pack was still stabilizing after his father’s death.

“We cannot move recklessly”, Damian said, his voice sharp and commanding. “Darius thrives on provocation. If we charge in blindly, we’ll bleed men before the true war even begins. No, what we'll do is fortify the borders, double the sentries, nothing passes unnoticed”, he declared.

A murmur of assent rippled through the council, though a few faces still wore doubt. It was then that the door creaked open and a young attendant stepped inside, bowing quickly.

“My lord”, the boy said nervously, “a reminder, the Luna Ciara is waiting for you this afternoon. Elder Rowan has arrived, as planned”, he informed Damian.

Damian’s expression darkened, his gaze snapping to the boy like a whip.

“I don’t have time for trivial gatherings, tell her to manage on her own. My priority is the safety of this pack”, he barked, his voice echoing through the chamber.

The boy flinched, bowing lower before retreating quickly. A strained silence followed in his wake. Marcus cleared his throat carefully.

“With respect, Alpha, the Lady is your wife. The alliance depends on her as much as it does on you. Ignoring her could-”, he pointed out.

“I said enough”, Damian cut in coldly, his tone final. He shoved his chair back from the table and leaned over the maps once more.

“We deal with Darius first. Everything else can wait”, he added with finality.

The men fell into silence, but the thought lingered, everything else included the woman he had vowed to protect and cherish.

~~

By evening, Ciara sat at the edge of her bed, the sapphire gown discarded in a heap on the floor. Katie carefully unfastened the ties of her shift, her gentle hands a contrast to the heavy ache sitting in Ciara’s chest.

“He didn’t come”, Ciara whispered, though they both already knew it. Elder Rowan had been gracious, polite, even warm but the entire afternoon had been shadowed by Damian’s absence. Ciara had smiled, played the role of dutiful Luna, yet all the while her heart burned with the sting of humiliation.

“No, my lady, he didn’t”, Katie murmured softly.

Ciara’s throat tightened as she blinked back the tears threatening to fall. She would not cry, not before Katie, not before anyone but the hollowness inside her only deepened. She had seen Celine being raised her whole life to believe her place beside an Alpha would mean power, purpose, even partnership. But, she was a little more than an ornament in a gilded cage.

“Is there any news from home?”, Ciara asked suddenly, her voice a little too sharp. “From the Crescent pack?”

Katie shook her head.

“Nothing, my lady. No letters, no word”, she responded.

Ciara’s chest constricted. No word. No news of her twin sister, Celine, who had disappeared the night of the wedding, leaving her to bear the weight of their family’s bargain alone. She dismissed Katie with a weary wave of her hand, murmuring thanks as the maid bowed and slipped from the room. Left alone, Ciara crawled onto the bed, drawing her knees to her chest. The silence pressed in, heavier than ever. She stared at the window, at the dark forest beyond, her thoughts circling endlessly.

Where was Celine? Why had she vanished without a word, without even a goodbye? And most terrifying of all, what if one day she returned? Ciara closed her eyes, a shiver running down her spine. She could picture it too clearly: Celine walking back into the pack house, claiming what should have been hers all along, the Alpha’s attention, the Bloodmoon’s allegiance, the power of a Luna. The thought twisted in Ciara’s heart, sharper than any blade. It was not only fear but also shame, because deep down, Ciara wondered if Damian would even hesitate. Would he turn from her so easily, as he always had these past weeks? Would he welcome Celine back into the place that Ciara had been struggling to hold?

Her stomach churned as she buried her face into the pillows, whispering the truth she could never say aloud. She was terrified that when Celine returned, she would take everything. And worse, that Damian would let her.