The Luna That Wasn't
1358 Words
Lizzy’s POV
I used to think love was enough.
Before the bond. Before the blood. Before the truth cracked my world wide open.
I thought if I loved Caleb hard enough—deep enough—he'd stay. Even if we weren’t fated, even if that invisible string never tied us together the way the stories said it would.
He was my best friend before he was anything else. The boy who taught me how to sneak out through the old laundry chute, who once helped me bury a dead rabbit I cried over for two days. The guy who held my hand under the bleachers at our first full moon ceremony, whispering that we didn’t need fate—we’d choose each other anyway.
When he kissed me, it was gentle. Hesitant. But real. And I believed it meant something.
We weren’t fated. But we were everything else.
Until we weren’t.
The day he met Sabrina was the day I lost him.
I still remember how it felt.
We’d been out by the ridge, near the old ruins where no one really went anymore. Just the two of us. He was picking pine needles from my hair after a training session. His fingers skimmed my cheek. He leaned in—familiar, warm, mine.
And then he froze.
Eyes wide. Jaw slack.
I turned just in time to see her.
Sabrina.
New to the pack. All legs and lips and chaos in a red jacket.
She tilted her head, smiling like a sin waiting to happen.
And Caleb? He stumbled forward like he’d been struck.
The bond snapped into place between them, loud and unignorable.
I felt it. I heard it.
And he looked at her like he’d never seen anything more perfect in his life.
He didn’t say anything to me at first.
He just stared at her.
And I broke.
Later—maybe days, maybe hours, I don’t remember—he found me by the old tree we carved our initials into.
He sat down, knees brushing mine.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said.
“But you did.”
“I didn’t choose this.”
“You did. The second you looked at her, you did.”
He didn’t argue. Just exhaled, head in his hands.
“I thought it would be you,” he said. “I wanted it to be you.”
But it wasn’t.
It never was.
That was the day I realized fate didn’t care what we wanted.
And neither did Caleb.
He left me sitting under that tree with nothing but silence.
Sabrina made sure it wasn’t quiet for long.
She draped herself over him like a trophy. Smiled at me like she already knew how it would end.
And it didn’t take her long to start digging in deeper.
Little comments. Little jabs. Big smiles in front of bigger crowds.
She was the kind of girl who always wanted to win. And I? I was the girl who looked like a sore loser.
I knew she whispered to the Elders about me.
About how I hadn’t shifted.
How Nyra stayed quiet.
How maybe I wasn’t a wolf at all.
My father never corrected her.
He encouraged it.
Because Sabrina? She shifted at fourteen. Trained with the warriors by fifteen. By seventeen, she was already being prepped to be Luna—my title, my legacy. All while I stood by, quiet and careful and painfully polite.
Alpha Marcus Gray—stoic, revered, cold as the granite floors of the packhouse. He never yelled. He didn’t have to. One look from him could hollow out your stomach.
I was the daughter he didn’t want. The Luna he never crowned. The wolf who never came forward.
Twenty-five and still unshifted.
A failure.
It wasn’t like I didn’t try. I meditated. Trained. Fasted under the moon. I even drank a raw deer heart once because some Elder told me it might trigger my wolf.
Nothing.
Nyra was silent. Dormant. Or maybe she hated me, too.
I stood in front of the mirror, fingers twitching at the hem of my dress.
Black satin. Low back. A slit up the thigh because Sabrina said once that only girls with nothing to offer left their legs covered.
The thought made me want to change.
Instead, I smoothed the fabric.
My hair was curled, lips painted the color of bruised cherries. My mother’s locket hung against my collarbone, warm from my skin.
She used to wear it every full moon.
Until she didn’t.
Dad says she died giving birth to me. But sometimes—just sometimes—I wonder if she ran. If she felt the weight of Alpha Marcus and realized she couldn’t stay for another minute.
Maybe it was weak to think like that.
Maybe it was the only thing that ever made sense.
I took one last look at myself in the mirror.
“You’re fine,” I said.
Not beautiful. Not strong. Not Luna.
Just... fine.
Downstairs, the house buzzed. Pack members milled around like bees hopped up on tradition and gossip.
Tonight wasn’t just any gathering. It was the Ceremony of Intent—the night unmated wolves formally opened themselves to potential bonds.
Dad said it was a chance to salvage what was left of my usefulness.
I said nothing.
The stairs creaked under my heels as I descended. Eyes turned. Conversations dipped.
My skin prickled.
They were all waiting to see if I’d finally shift. If fate would throw me a bone before the curtain closed.
I spotted Caleb near the fireplace, Sabrina already tucked under his arm like she was sewn there. His eyes met mine for a second. Just a second.
Then he looked away.
I should’ve stayed in my room.
But I didn’t.
Because that’s what he expected.
And if I couldn’t be loved, I’d be impossible to ignore.
Sabrina smiled when she saw me.
Not the polite kind.
The predatory kind.
But I walked past her without flinching, chin high, heart in my throat.
My father was at the center of it all, surrounded by Elders and visiting Alphas. He didn’t even acknowledge me until I was standing beside him.
“Henrick’s son is here,” he said. “You’ll speak to him.”
“Of course,” I said tightly.
“And smile.”
I did.
It hurt.
I made my way through the crowd, found Tristan by the buffet table—tall, clean-cut, the kind of safe bet my father could stomach.
“Elizabeth,” I introduced myself.
He blinked like he hadn’t expected me to be real.
“Tristan,” he said. “You... look nice.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You say that like it’s a question.”
He chuckled nervously. “I don’t really do these things.”
“Me neither.”
We stood there in awkward silence for what felt like a year.
I excused myself with a smile and slipped out the nearest side door.
The air was cold against my skin. Bracing. Honest.
I walked until I found the garden path, the gravel crunching beneath my feet. The moon hung high and heavy above, full and white, watching.
That’s when I heard the door open behind me.
And I knew.
Sabrina.
The scent hit first—jasmine and spite.
Then came the voice.
“Well. If it isn’t the almost-Luna.”
I turned slowly.
She was holding a glass of wine.
Red.
My dress was black.
And I already knew how this would go.
She wasn’t alone.
Caleb stood just behind her, arms crossed, jaw clenched, like he didn’t want to be there but couldn’t bring himself to walk away.
Sabrina looped her arm through his, smiling like a wolf before the bite. Her wine glass dangled from her fingers, already tilting forward like it had a mind of its own.
I took a step back.
She saw it.
And smiled wider.
"Leaving so soon?" she purred. "But you haven’t even had your moment yet."
Caleb didn’t speak.
He didn’t need to.
His silence said everything.
I turned to walk away.
I should have kept walking.
- Writer
