The Luna He Rejected Is The Millennium Wolf

Chapter 013

Sienna's POV

The light didn't just enter the cell; it interrogated the floorboards. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sun that sliced through the high, slit window. It mocked the small amount of breathing space I had tried to carve out of the silence.

It had been two days since I was thrown into the damp darkness. Two days of the stone leaching the heat from my joints. The weeping moisture on the walls was the only clock I had.

I reached for the place in my mind where Juvien’s heat used to be. There was nothing. Just a hollow, echoing cavern in my chest. It felt like a physical wound that refused to scab over.

The name died in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the tears came anyway. My father’s voice drifted back from my childhood. He used to speak of ancient beings and blood-debts. I hadn't listened because I was too small to understand.

He had told me once that some bonds were older than the moon itself, tied to a power that demanded a price in flesh. At the time, I was more interested in the way the river reflected the stars. Now, I realized the ritual hadn't just saved Damien; it had effectively rewritten my biology. I was a human carrying a god-like echo, and the weight of it was crushing.

I remembered my mother. She was the strongest Luna the North had ever seen. She led the River Moon Pack with an iron grace. I could still smell the cedar of our home before Morrigan framed my father and took her life.

Now, I was a girl without a pack, sitting in the filth of a rival's dungeon. The transition from being a daughter of a king to a prisoner of a vulture was a cold, sharp reality.

A sharp, rhythmic clicking of heels snapped the thread of the past. My grief didn't vanish. It hardened into a shield. I pushed off the floor. My muscles groaned from the chill.

I pressed my palms against the heavy iron bars. The metal was ice against my skin. It was etched with runes that hummed with a low, suppressive energy. I tried to reach out with my senses. I wanted to catch a scent of Damien.

I wanted to hear the heartbeat of the guards. But the world was muted. I had traded my wolf for a savior's ritual. Now the silence was a heavy weight. My skin felt too thin, lacking the spiritual armor Juvien had provided for years. I was raw, exposed, and fundamentally changed.

The footsteps stopped. A cloying cloud of jasmine and expensive musk rolled into the corridor.

"Step out," a voice rang out. It was bold and melodic.

I retreated to the center of the cell. I tilted my chin up. The heavy gate groaned on its hinges. The sound of iron on iron scraped against the quiet.

A woman in a bright silk green gown stepped into the gloom. Clara examined the dungeon as if she were looking at a carcass. She clicked her heels slowly. Her gown swept the dirt of the floor. Her nose wrinkled in a sneer.

"You i***t lowly human," she murmured. Her eyes flicked over me. "I didn't think you would survive two days without food."

I didn't flinch. "I didn't think you’d be the one to check."

Her eyes flared. The pride in those dark irises turned to a slow anger. She moved toward me. Her presence was a wall of cold air.

"You don't dare speak to me that way," she said. "Did Damien not teach you how to respect your betters?".

She leaned closer. "Or is 'mistress' a role that doesn't require manners?"

"I didn't ask for your title, Noble," I countered.

My voice was steady. My heart hammered against my ribs. I had no wolf, but my muscles remembered the combat drills of my youth. If she moved to strike, I would fight. I watched her hands, waiting for the twitch that signaled a blow.

Clara leaned in. Her perfume was so thick I could taste it.

"Damien only brought you here as a distraction," she said. "I am his Luna. I am the Blood Moon."

She pressed closer. Her breath was hot against my ear. I didn't retreat. I stood my ground until her heartbeat suddenly skipped.

She gasped. She stumbled backward as if she had been pushed. She clutched her chest. Her knuckles turned white against the green silk.

"You," she stammered. Her voice was thin. "You broke the laws of the Moon Goddess. You’re a monster. You traded your wolf for a ritual."

She looked at me as if she were seeing a ghost. Her wolf spirit clawed beneath her skin. She was terrified of the static frequency I now emitted. It was the "unnatural" aura of the Eucharist ritual—a power that made wolves instinctively recoil.

"Guards!" she shrieked, her face twisting into a mask of terror. "Take her to the Arc prison. One hundred strokes of the cane to remind her she is human."

She flung her dress out. There was a flash of green in the dark.

"Let’s see how a human survives without her wolf," she said.

The guards didn't lead me. They grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me forward. I was pulled from the cold dampness of the stones into the wider hallways. The air grew warmer, smelling of burnt wood and sweat.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded.

"Shut up, trash," the guard barked.

The heavy front doors swung open. I saw him. Clement. He was Damien’s Beta. He stood in the shadows.

His eyes were filled with pity before I looked away. Pity was a weight I couldn't carry. It meant he thought I was already dead. He didn't understand that even without a wolf, I was currently the anchor for his Alpha's soul.

The Arc prison loomed. It was a massive stage surrounded by rows of chairs. The pack’s elite filled the seats.

The air here was different. It smelled of dry sawdust, old iron, and the collective heat of thousands of bodies. Beyond the seats, a sea of wolves in their beast forms lined up. Their eyes were yellow slits in the dark.

I scanned the crowd. My gaze stopped on Kael. He sat perfectly still, his eyes fixed on me with a calculating hunger.

He didn't join the shouting. He watched me with that vulture-like intensity, measuring my worth as if I were property he intended to acquire. He looked like a man deciding whether to fix the house or let the fire finish it.

"Whip her!" a voice screamed from the crowd.

"No, let the monster in the cage have her!"

"Send her to the frozen east!"

The roar of the audience was a physical weight. Disgust hung in the air. I was brought onto the stage. Heavy chains locked my wrists to the posts with a loud clink.

The wood of the stage was rough under my bare feet, stained with the history of others who had stood where I was.

"Mrs. Clara," the head guard said. He bowed to the dais where she sat sipping wine. "How shall we proceed with the punishment?"

Clara set the glass down. Her eyes danced with a cruel light.

"Canes are too small for a monster who traded her soul," she said. "Let her fight the beast. Let it feed to its satisfaction."

She stood up. Her voice carried over the shouting of the crowd.

"Bring him out."

The arena went silent. I felt a surge of energy pulse through my bones. It was a static hum, a frequency that didn't belong to a human.

It was the Eucharist bond. It thrummed in my marrow, clashing with the hollow cold where Juvien used to be. It was Damien’s life force, vibrating in time with my own. To the crowd, I was a defenseless girl. To the laws of the ritual, I was a shared vessel.

A violent shock rattled the arena. The massive iron gate at the far end of the pit shook. It was under the force of a blow.

From behind the gate came a sound that made the hair on my arms stand up. It was a low, wet breathing followed by the sound of heavy claws dragging across stone. The temperature in the pit dropped.

My heart hammered. It wasn't just my own heart. There was a phantom rhythm beneath it.

It was Damien. The Eucharist ritual hadn't just saved him; it had tied our lifelines together. If I died here, his heart would stop too. We were one heartbeat, one soul, and one final stand.

The gate groaned again. A shadow darker than the dungeon began to emerge. I wasn't just fighting for my life anymore. I was fighting for the life of the Alpha I had saved.

The monster had arrived. If I didn't succeed, Damien would die with me.