The Unwilling Luna and her Three Mates

Second Mate

Pain tore through every part of my body, all I could feel was pain, even breathing was painful, I didn’t even realize I was crying until a warm impossibly gentle hand brushed against my damp cheek.

My chest rose and fell in ragged, agonizing breaths as I tried to force my eyes to open, but the lids felt heavy as lead, glued shut by sheer exhaustion. Every single nerve ending in my body felt like it was coated in liquid fire. The jagged s***h across my side throbbed in time with my hammering pulse, screaming reminders of the rogue wolves, the dark forest, and the brutal beating that had left me for dead.

Where am I?

Panic clawed at my throat, but I was too weak to even gasp. The heavy, antiseptic smell of a sterile room warred with the sharp, comforting scent of wintergreen, woodsmoke, and something else—something deep, rich, and dangerously grounding that made my chest ache with a sudden, traitorous warmth.

"Easy now. Don't try to move."

The voice was melodic, laced with a quiet, fierce authority that wrapped around my frayed nerves. It was tender. Slowly, painfully, I managed to force a sliver of light beneath my bruised eyelids.

The harsh lamplight made my head spin, but through the blur, I saw a young woman with warm brown eyes looking down at me, her expression a mix of overwhelming relief and profound sympathy. She wasn't holding a wshe was holding a bowl of fresh water.

"You're safe," she whispered softly, her thumb brushing my temple in a distinctly maternal gesture that made a fresh wave of tears slip from my eyes. "My brother is the healer. He's going to help you."

Your brother?

The words echoed sluggishly in my mind. I tried to speak, to ask about my pack, to ask about Maddox, to ask why I wasn't dead in the dirt, but my throat was entirely parched. All I could manage was a shallow, pathetic whimper as the crushing reality of my failure—and the terrifying, undeniable pull of a strange, unfamiliar bond humming beneath my skin—pulled me back down into the dark.

Elias POV:

She’s been going in and out of consciousness for the past few days. Most of those times she wakes up crying in pain, begging someone, anyone, to take her agony away. I wish more than anything to be able to do that, but I can’t—unfortunately, healing doesn’t work like that.

One time she woke up asking for a Maddox. She says that name a lot, almost like saying it aloud relieves her suffering somehow. I told myself not to think about it, but I still do. Were they lovers? Is that why she keeps crying out for him? A dark, possessive growl claws its way up my throat at the mere thought that she might have belonged to another man. But I force the panic down. None of that matters now, because she is my mate and I am hers. Once she is fully recovered, she won't want anyone else, and the comforting certainty of that thought always manages to settle my racing pulse.

I make my way down the hall to her room to check if she’s in pain again. I know my sisters are watching over her, but I never truly feel at ease until I see her with my own eyes. As I get closer to the door, I hear the unfamiliar sound of light, genuine laughter drifting from inside.

My steps falter. I push the door open slowly, half-expecting to find her feverish or distressed. Instead, I find Maya and Lucy sitting on either side of the cot, holding up a collection of brightly painted wooden carving toys my youngest sister had brought in to pass the time. Iris is propped up slightly against the pillows, her pale face still bruised, but a soft, breathtaking smile actually curving her lips.

When the girls spot me standing in the doorway, they exchange knowing, teasing grins.

"Oh, look Eli," Maya chirps excitedly“ I’m showing Iris my toys ."

Iris, that’s her name. I could help the smile that found its way to my lips.

Lucy giggles, standing up smoothly and brushing out her skirt. "We should probably go check on the herb drying in the loft. Right, Maya?"

"But I want to keep showing Iris my toys " Maya whines, not understanding Lucy’s words . Lucy picks her up “ I’m sure father would love to love at your toys, let’s go find him”.

“ Yay papa ” maya says excitedly, always a daddies girl. They walk past me, leaving the door cracked open behind them.

Suddenly, the cozy room feels suffocatingly small.

I stand frozen in the threshold, my hands awkwardly shoved into the pockets of my tunic. My chest tightens instantly as those large, exhausted eyes slide away from the empty doorway and lock onto mine. I am a healer; I speak to terrified pack leaders and grieving families every single day with absolute calm. But right now, standing a few feet away from the woman who owns my soul, my mind completely empties.

"H-hi," I stutter out, the word coming out far higher and more pathetic than intended. I clear my throat frantically, shifting my weight from one foot to the other as I reach up to scratch the back of my neck like an awkward teenager. "I, um. Just wanted to... check the bandages. How are you feeling?"

She looked at me, her gaze heavy and analyzing as it drifted over my flushed face and tangled posture. The brief, soft smile she had been sharing with my sisters vanished, replaced by the guarded, defensive mask of a warrior who didn't know where she was or who she could trust.

"Who are you?" Her voice was a fragile, raspy scrape, like dry leaves dragged across stone, but the underlying wariness was unmistakable.

"Elias," I managed to say, stepping a little closer before forcing my boots to stop. I kept my hands out of my pockets and raised them palms-up in a universal gesture of peace. "I’m the healer here. My sister Maya told you... well, she tried to explain. You were brought in Three weeks ago after the attack."

Her eyes widened slightly at the mention of the attack. Panic flickered across her bruised features, her hand instantly drifting beneath the thick woolen blanket toward her side, instinctively checking for a weapon that wasn't there.

"The rogues," she whispered, her breathing turning shallow as the painful memories rushed back. "I... I lost my knife. How am I...?"

"You're in my family's cottage," I said gently, taking another slow, deliberate step forward so she wouldn't feel cornered. "Your injuries were severe. It took fourteen days of stitching, fever-reducing drafts, and pure stubbornness on your part to get you to this point. But your wolf is healing the tissue now."

At the mention of her wolf, a strange, electric static seemed to charge the air between us.

I stopped dead in my tracks. A sudden, violent rush of wind seemed to sweep through the closed room, carrying a rich, intoxicating wave of pine needles and crushed mint straight to my lungs. My wolf reared up inside my mind, howling with an intensity that made my knees wobble.

Across the bed, Iris gasped. Her eyes dilated, her pupils blowing wide as a sharp shudder wracked her battered frame. She pressed her hands flat against the mattress, scrambling backward until her shoulders hit the wooden headboard, her chest heaving as if she had just been shoved underwater.

The bond screamed.

It flooded the space between us like liquid fire, tying a heavy, invisible knot around our ribs. I could feel her terror, her shock, and the sudden, frantic rebellion of her soul.

She stared at me, her chest rising and falling in sharp, panicked gasps, her eyes locked on mine with a mixture of horror and betrayal.

"No," she breathed out, her voice cracking violently as she shook her head over and over, refusing to accept the truth screaming in her blood. "No. Absolutely not. I don't have time for this. I already... I can't be your mate."

The words hit me like a physical blow to the chest.

All the warmth that had flooded my veins drained away in a single second, replaced by a hollow, sickening drop in my stomach.

I forced my hands to stay still, though every muscle in my body tightened with a sharp, burning ache. I swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in my throat, trying to find my voice beneath the weight of her words.

"I... I know this is overwhelming," I managed to say, my voice cracking slightly despite my best efforts to keep it steady. I stepped back, putting distance between us to ease the panic in her eyes, though every instinct screamed at me to close the gap. "You don't have to figure it out right now. Just... focus on resting." I said and walked out before my tears start to drop.