Luna’s Silent Snarls

It was another mating ball that my parents forced me to attend. I didn’t even like balls. But you see, they were getting desperate. I’m already twenty-four and still mateless. Apparently, in their eyes, it’s a shameful failure if a female doesn’t find her mate within the first year of turning eighteen and meeting her spirit animal—her wolf. Because, of course, every girl should be paired off by age nineteen, right? Apparently, the calendar on my parents' wall reads Medieval Times instead of twenty-first century. Honestly, the whole thing was ridiculous. The idea of being “mated” felt like something straight out of an old fairytale—romantic, sure, but ultimately pointless. So, here I was, strolling around with the other unmated females from my pack. They were younger, practically buzzing with excitement about how handsome some of the men were here. A gaggle of giggles erupted as they lamented their unclaimed status. A part of me had to chuckle. They were cute in their naive optimism. But me? Not interested. Three hours into the ball, and I was already debating whether I should just slink away to my room when the unmistakable scent hit me—a scent so strong and alluring that my body practically hummed in response. Smoky leather and pine – wild and grounded, like he just walked out of a forest fire with purpose. That was the intoxicating yet strange mix in one. Oh no. I knew exactly what that smell meant. It had to be him. My mate. I swallowed hard. My wolf immediately sat up, ears twitching. “Go!” she demanded, practically vibrating with excitement. I frowned. Late for the ball? Really? I didn’t even start to search with my eyes the wolf behind the scent. I did exactly the opposite. I spun on my heel and marched to the farthest corner of the room. What did he think I was, some kind of eager puppy waiting to be claimed? Nope. Grabbing a drink from a passing table, I chugged it back in one go. I needed something to numb the sudden heat that was spreading through me. I stopped and looked outside the window, ignoring the joyful vibes of the event behind me. I swore I’d rather be anything but mated. I wished I was a lesbian. At least then, my mate could be a female, and I’d be saved from this whole da.mn mess. No male possessiveness, no ego attitudes. Just me, a nice, chill bond, and no baggage. But nope. Guess the universe thinks I’m too much of a handful for that kind of luck. Minutes passed before a soft rustle of footsteps behind me interrupted my self-pity session. I heard a low, rumbling voice. “Miss?” I took in a slow, controlled breath, exhaling it just as slowly. I couldn’t avoid this forever. I am not an easy one to claim, I thought, steel setting into my spine. I turned to face him, eyes landing on a pair of piercing green eyes. Green. Not often seen in males, but there they were—unnervingly beautiful, if you asked me. His dark hair was tousled, with curls that looked like they might have been styled intentionally... or not. But I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of a full once-over. Eyes. Only the eyes. I kept my gaze locked onto his. I didn’t care about the rest of him. His gaze, however, traveled around my face, lingering too long before dropping lower. A tight knot of irritation twisted in my stomach. Oh, no you don’t. “Who are you?” I demanded, my tone colder than I meant. The smile that crept onto his lips faltered slightly, his eyes snapping back to mine with a brief frown. Oh, I definitely got his attention now. The arrogance of these men… it was practically a given. “Where are my manners? I’m Alpha Richard Ashford,” he replied, his voice smooth, as if I should’ve known that name. “From the Lunar Apex Pack.” Lunar Apex Pack? My mind scrambled to process the name, but all I could come up with was vague notions of them being... either dangerously savage or politically polished. Couldn’t quite place them. I knew the basics about all the neighboring packs—enough to know whether I’d need to reject a mate if he happened to come from one of the more cruel packs. Great. He had to be an Alpha. Fu.cking perfect. For years, I’d prayed my mate would be an omega. Omegas were usually the nicest guys in the pack—not always the sharpest tools in the shed, but definitely the sweetest. The rest? Arrogant, self-absorbed bastards. He extended his hand. I eyed it like it was a live wire. “And you are…?” He raised an eyebrow, his hand still hovering in the air as if it was obvious. “Someone who doesn’t touch other males,” I said, my voice dripping with disdain as I folded my arms behind my back. He couldn’t even ask for my name properly? Am I just here to fill in the blanks for him? He hesitated, his hand still there, before finally pulling it back. “But I’m your mate,” he said, his voice authoritative and tinged with confusion. “And so?” I raised a brow, my lips curling into a sneer. “Does that give you some unquestionable privilege to touch me?” His jaw tightened, and I could practically hear the click of his frustration. Good. Let him be frustrated. I wasn’t about to make this easy. I knew I was being a total rude bi.tch to talk like this to a stranger Alpha, but hey, if he was my mate, he’d have to put up with it, right? I mean, mates are supposed to love everything about each other, even the charming sarcasm and sparkling personality. Right? Kind of like how everyone loves puppies... just with way more biting and way less fluff. Oh, I was really nailing the “mate bond” thing—sarcasm in full force. An awkward silence stretched between us. Great. Social grace? Oh, I had it in spades—if spades were sharp, rusty, and used mostly for digging graves at every conversation I touched. I could feel my wolf squirming, but I was not going to make this easy. “Could you at least tell me your name?” he asked, his voice more gentle now, though I could sense the underlying edge of impatience. Now, he was asking nicely. Fine. I had a name to give him. “ I am Maera Ashenvale,” I said flatly, keeping my poker face firmly in place. My name’s pronounced “May-rah,” which I actually like. Sounds all soft and springtime sweet, right? Like May flowers and sunshine. But then there’s the rah—and yeah, that’s the part where I growl and bite. “Maera...,” he echoed, clearly trying to place it. “And which pack are you from?” I narrowed my eyes. Was he actually curious—or just fishing for info to reject me? The thought stung, sharp and sudden. My chest tightened, and for a moment, I felt the burn behind my eyes. But no. I buried it fast, shoved on my mask of indifference. Let him reject me. I don’t need him. I never wanted to be a Luna anyway—way too much responsibility, too many expectations. Even if he walks away, I won’t bend. Not for anyone. “I’m from here,” I said stiffly, straightening up, my chin lifting in a challenge. “The Timberwolf Pack.” My pack wasn’t the biggest or the strongest, but we sure had a reputation—for throwing the most mating balls. Our Luna was basically a love-struck dictator having the matchmaking fever like it was a full-time job. Think of it like a fairy godmother meets drill sergeant, but with more glitter and guilt. Her favorite motto? “I just want everyone to be the happiest beings they can be!” Like finding a mate is some kind of magic wand that erases all the crap life throws at you. Please. And let’s not forget the downside. Lose your mate, and you become the saddest, most broken creature to walk the earth. That kind of soul-crushing misery wouldn’t exist if you never met them in the first place. I’d take a stable, average life over drowning in some ocean of despair any day. He seemed to notice my shift in posture. The next moment, his eyes glazed over, and I could tell he was either connecting with his pack or whatever it was they did. He looked back at me, and the question was clear. “How much time do you need to pack?” he asked, voice demanding. I shot him a skeptical look. “Why?” I snapped. “My pack is ready to leave,” he explained. “Many of them have found mates here. We’re good to go.” “How far is your pack?” “A good eight-hour drive.” Oh, fantastic—my worst nightmare with a mileage count. “No.” His brows furrowed. “What?” “I’m not driving now,” I said, my tone making it clear that I wasn’t in the mood for this nonsense. I hated night rides. I’d always fall asleep and wake up with my whole body aching, head pounding, and the kind of dizziness that made me question reality. It was the worst feeling—and I loathed every second of it. “Why?” he asked, voice slightly incredulous. “I’m going to bed,” I said, irritation crawling up my neck. “I want a proper night’s sleep.” He gave a short nod, face unreadable. “Okay. I’ll figure out where we’re staying for the night.” Of course, he would. The always composed and managing Alpha. Like this was just another logistical problem to solve. “Sure. You do that,” I muttered, already turning on my heel. “Where are you going?” he asked, voice low but with a thread of confusion tugging at it. Like I’d broken a rule no one told me existed. “Home,” I replied flatly. He blinked. “So… am I staying at your place then?” I stopped, glanced back. Was he serious? His expression was calm, too calm—but his jaw was a little tighter now, and he shifted, just slightly. Maybe not as unfazed as he pretended. “No,” I said, voice sharp. “You’re staying wherever they’ve placed you.” His brow creased, the faintest c***k in that cool exterior. “So, you’re not staying with me?” The disbelief in his tone was subtle, but it was there—like I’d just broken some sacred law of mating etiquette. “Right. Not staying with you,” I snapped, annoyed. Did his brain go for a vacation, or is it just on permanent leave? His mouth opened slightly, as if to respond, then closed again. Silent. Staring. Processing. Like I was a puzzle that refused to make sense—and that bothered him more than he’d ever admit. I walked away, my steps quick, my wolf growling under my skin in protest. I could almost feel his possessiveness seeping through the air like a thick fog, but I didn’t give a damn. Let him deal with it. As I walked home, my feet aching in my heels, I tried to mentally brace myself for what tomorrow would bring. Aka a cramped eight hour car ride and lower back pain. Amazing. Can’t wait to hate every second of that.