You the luna

1094 Words
“You bathed,” he observed, voice low and cold, as if noting a detail that didn’t please him. I swallowed hard, muscles trembling. “I did what I had to.” I retorted angrily. “Not because I wanted to.” I added. His eyes flicked over me, unblinking, as if weighing every part of me. “You’ll need to be clean,” he said. “The pack expects their Luna to be presentable.” Luna. The word hit me harder than a punch to the gut. I wanted to scream that I wasn’t theirs, that I wasn’t meant to wear that title, but my throat closed tight. “I’m not your Luna,” I said quietly, fighting the knot of fear tightening my throat. Idris’s eyes dark widened. “You don’t get to choose.” The air thickened between us, heavy with unspoken threats. “You belong to this pack now,” he said, stepping closer. The heat radiating off him wasn’t comforting. It was a warning. “I don’t belong anywhere,” I spat back, heart pounding. “Least of all here.” His expression hardened. “You will. Whether you want to or not.” I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms to hold back the tremble of helplessness. “Tomorrow, you’ll wear the dress my workers will bring for you,” he said quietly, “and face the pack. They need to see their Luna.” A chill ran through me, colder than the dungeon ever was. “So they can mock me,” I whispered. “So they can see who you are,” he said, voice hard. “Their Luna. My mate.” I looked away, fighting the tears threatening to fall. The cold dread settled deeper into my bones. "I don't want any of this", "I don't care", He answered then walked towards the door. I didn’t bother answering, I just watched him walk. He paused by the door, then glanced back with a warning. “You won’t survive without me.” Then the door shut, leaving me alone in the shadows. The silence that followed was deafening. I stood frozen in place, staring at the door as if he might come back. But he didn’t. The echo of his footsteps had long since faded, leaving behind only the faint drip of water from somewhere deep in the walls. I exhaled shakily and turned, the air in the room suddenly colder. I wrapped my arms around myself, pressing my palms to my bare skin, as if I could hold myself together. Luna. Mate. The words clung to my thoughts like cobwebs. No matter how I tried to shake them off, they stayed. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for him. I didn’t ask to survive only to become something claimed. I dropped on the bed and I curled up on my side, pulling the rough blanket over my shoulders. The scent of the soap I’d used in the bath still clung faintly to me—lavender and something bitter beneath it. A scent that didn’t belong to me. Nothing in this place did. I closed my eyes, but sleep didn’t come easily. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Every time I thought I was drifting off, Idris’s voice echoed through the dark. I slept with my back to the wall. Knees drawn up. One hand curled into a fist beneath the pillow like a weapon. It was stupid. Pointless. But it made me feel less powerless. There were moments. Moments where my breathing evened out. Where my fingers loosened. Where everything made me feel more scared, the abduction, the blood, the smell of roses and death faded just enough for my mind to drift. I dreamed of nothing. Not blissful. .... Three sharp raps against the heavy wood door were far too loud for the stillness of the early morning. But it was enough to wake me up. I sat up, heart thudding, disoriented. The candles had long burned down to stubs, and the only light came from a faint gray seep at the window's edge. Morning. Barely. 6 a.m., maybe. The knock came again. Louder. Impatient. I swung my legs off the bed, the floor cold against my feet. I was still in the same clothes, not raped luckily. The relief came sharp and fast, like a gasp I hadn’t realized I was holding all night. It settled low in my gut, hot and cold at once. I didn’t feel safe, but I hadn’t been broken not yet. The knock came a third time. Harder. Less patient now. I stood slowly, knees stiff from sleeping curled so tightly. The blanket slipped off my shoulders and fell to the floor. My body ached—sore from tension, from sleeping wrong, from fear that never truly left “Come in,” I said hoarsely. The door opened. The girl from before stood there. Her braid was neater than mine would ever be, her expression flat, unreadable. This time, she wasn’t carrying water. “You’re expected in the dining hall,” she said. “Now.” I blinked at her, my voice slow and raw. “I’m expected… without bathing?” She hesitated, but only for a second. “Yes. He doesn’t like waiting.” “Tell him, I don’t want.....” I started. “It’s not a request,” She cut me off in mid sentence immediately. Of course it wasn’t but still I wanted to disobey. “You should come,” she said quietly. “The last girl who made him wait… didn’t walk the next day.” A chill slid down my spine. My throat tightened. But I didn’t let her see it. “Lead the way,” I muttered. She turned without another word, and I followed her out into the hallway. I followed her, every step heavier than the last. The hallway was silent, endless, unfamiliar but it was massive, lit by chandeliers dripping with crystal and fire. The air was perfumed with incense, spices, and something else beneath it all, blood. Coppery and sweet, like rusted sugar. We reached a wide set of dark wooden doors, carved with curling vines and dead animal heads with hollow eyes. The girl pushed it open and that's when my mouth fall open as I gazed around. The dining hall beyond was bathed in golden light. A long table stretched across the room, set with silver and glass and polished obsidian plates. Only one figure sat at the head, waiting. Him. The Alpha.
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