His Possessive Luna

This Is Life

I'm super angry and very sad, but I put on my happy face and smile at everyone. It's both a blessing and a curse that no one can actually tell when I'm not okay.

Whenever I wear this happy face charade, no one can read me. Not my family, not even my best friends. It's helpful in moments like today, when I don't feel like opening up, but sometimes... sometimes, you just wish someone could see through the smile, feel the pain behind it, comfort you without needing to be told. I'm quite unfortunate in that way. I never got someone who truly sees me or truly cares.

"Finally done with the exams, let’s go on a vacation!" says Ray with his usual loud enthusiasm.

"How? We don’t have any holidays. I wish we did. We really need to relax after all that hard work," Jo sighed, rubbing her forehead dramatically.

"When did you start working for exams?" Amelia teased with a smirk, making Jo glare.

"Fine, let’s go out this weekend. Let’s go to a nightclub," I suggested. I desperately needed something—anything—to distract me.

We all agreed. Saturday night it is. We'll dance, laugh, pretend everything is normal. Perfect.

When I get home, I walk straight to my room and lock the door. I ignore my parents. I’m still seriously angry with them. I know they’re doing this for my own good—a werewolf who cannot shift is, to the pack, a liability. A burden. Someone to be protected because they can’t protect themselves. Someone weaker. Slower. Useless.

But I’m not useless. I have Alpha potential—everyone can feel it. They can feel my aura, my presence. There’s still a chance. Maybe I will shift. Maybe they’re rushing this decision. But... what if I don’t? Then I’ll always be their weakness. I’ll always be the reason they worry, the reason they protect instead of lead.

If I become Luna of Bluemoon, even if I’m a mere human, no one would dare harm me. That’s security. Maybe they’re right. Maybe they want me to have a future that’s safe, a future they can’t otherwise promise.

Without thinking, I search Gabriel Axe on the internet. And oh boy, he’s everywhere. i********:. YouTube. Articles. Blogs.

His i********: has millions of followers. He’s ridiculously good-looking—tall, 6 ft at least, tanned skin, ash blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and, of course, six-pack abs. He’s the kind of man every woman would drool over. Rich. Powerful. Deadly in a fight. There’s a video of him in a battle during the war with a neighboring pack—ruthless, fast, like a true monster. A deadly one. But also... a hero, according to everyone else.

From his social media, I can tell he loves flaunting his body and wealth. A typical flashy rich guy. Not really my type. I’m more of a private account kind of girl. I don’t flaunt my dad’s money. I don’t flaunt my body. I don’t even wear fancy clothes. I’m a jeans-and-shirt person. Meanwhile, he’s either in a tailored suit or nearly naked.

We’re going to be a disaster together.

Now that I think about it, I have met him before. Last year, in London. Dad had a business meeting and we were on a family trip. We met Gabriel at a restaurant. The meeting was short but memorable. He was even more handsome in person. Every single woman in that place stared at him like he was a god. And he did stare at me for a while... That stare was intense, unreadable.

Maybe I’ll accept my fate. Maybe I can still study after marrying him. Start my business too. I don’t think he’ll have a problem with it. Right?

While I’m lost in my thoughts, there’s a soft knock on the door. "Would you like to join me for coffee, sweetheart?" Mom’s voice calls.

"Okay," I say.

We sit together in silence, sipping coffee. The silence is awkward. Heavy. Mom looks guilty, her fingers playing with the rim of her mug. I want to ease the tension.

"I understand why you’re doing this. I know it’s for my good," I say softly.

Her eyes tear up a little. "I knew you would understand. Trust me, I’m not happy with this decision. It breaks me, but I want you safe and happy. Gabriel loves you. He’ll keep you happy."

Since when did he start loving me? Who cares.

"But I have a condition." She looks up, surprised.

"I want to finish high school as a single she-wolf. No engagement until after graduation. Don’t say yes until then."

Mom is clearly taken aback. I’ll turn eighteen before graduation, but if Bluemoon already knows about my situation—about my not shifting—it shouldn’t be a problem for them.

"I’ll talk to your father about this. Okay."

"Okay."

She touches my hand gently. "It’s life, honey. Sometimes, we take harsh decisions to avoid harsher futures."

"I know, Mom. I know."