The Perfect Luna’s Rogue Mate

“My Luna, are you ready?” Darius asked softly. It’s time! Finally! Chrystal mused as she smoothed her ceremonial gown with trembling fingers, her eyes on her betrothed, her prince, her father’s choice, and hers, the tall, golden-haired, blue-eyed Darius Strigan, the Noble Alpha, her destined mate. “Of course,” she replied, demurely, as she had been raised to do. She brushed her long, honey-blonde hair behind her ear with practiced shyness, glancing away from Darius, as she had been taught, the gesture calculated to appear modest and alluring in equal measure. Her soon-to-be Alpha beamed lovingly at her, his soon-to-be Luna. Perfect. Everything must be perfect. Chrystal repeated her mantra as her stomach flipped. I wasn’t the first time. Since this date was declared and announced all over the Kingdom, she had grown more and more nervous. This was their Blood Moon Bonding Ceremony, where she would be bonded to Darius; their pack in full attendance as witnesses to their sacred union. Chrystal swallowed. She forced her smile to remain just right, no gums, no teeth, something soft and endearing. “Step forward, children of the Moon. Let the Goddess reveal your fate,” the elder in charge of the ceremony called out, his arms spread toward the young wolves. Chrystal took a step forward, her mind buzzing with anticipation. Darius moved together with her, and the moment their feet touched the circle’s glowing runes, the magic pulsed to life. Warmth spread through Chrystal’s chest, like soothing oil on raging waters, her skin tingling as if being caressed by soft feathers, as the sacred bond awakened. Then, suddenly, that comforting warmth turned to something else entirely; a coldness so complete it felt like death itself had reached inside her chest and wrapped icy fingers around her heart. Chrystal’s eyes widened as brutal pain shot through her bones, every nerve in her body on fire as if she had been struck by lightning. Her wide eyes darted to Darius. He was staring down at her, his lips slightly parted, eyes as round as her own. “Argh!” Chrystal cried out as her knees buckled. Her world tilted on its axis as her eyes searched the crowd, seeking the source of the searing pain, searching for some guide, some light, some help, as she gritted her teeth against the howl that must not sound. Not from a Luna’s lips. Pain coiled around her ribs, burning, twisting, causing her to almost lie flat on the ceremonial ground as the whole crowd stepped forward as one, as if to catch or carry their prized, most precious Luna. But the magic was not done with Chrystal. The pull made her stand, even with the pain, imposing its will on her and executing its ordained task. From the shadows at the edge of the trees, a low, dark chuckle echoed through the night, the sound carrying an amusement that seemed to mock everything sacred about the ceremony. A deep voice that sounded like water running over rocks droned, “Well now, isn’t this something?” The crowd jolted, gazing around the open field, looking toward the trees, murmuring and whispering among themselves in disbelief. “Who is it?” “What’s happening?” “Is the Noble Alpha not her true mate?” Chrystal's head snapped up, her careful mind immediately registering the threat even as her body betrayed her, pulling toward the sound that seemed to fill her lungs with air so fresh she wondered lightly whether she had ever actually breathed before that moment. “What –” Chrystal gasped as she moved, her carefully maintained composure cracking like ice under pressure as she clutched her chest desperately, as if she could physically stop her heart from ripping apart. A shifter stepped out from the darkness. Tall, broad-shouldered, with storm-grey eyes and a face carved from stone, moving with a seasoned predator’s steady, purposeful stride. Scars lined his forearms, a testament to countless battles. His black cloak barely concealed the lethal muscles beneath as the night breeze pulled at it, revealing his broad chest and taut torso. As he approached, a line of warriors ran forward, blocking off his path and encircling him and the stumbling Luna. His cold eyes scanned the crowd like a wolf regarding sheep, even as the shifter was alone. A cruel smile played on his lips as if he were enjoying some private joke at everyone else’s expense. Whispers swept through the clearing in waves. A name fell from someone’s lips, tinged with horror. “Castian Rhodes!” “The rogue Alpha!” another whisperer said. The traitor. What no one said. The words hanging, invisible, in the very air surrounding the controlled disbelief of the gathered shifters. Chrystal's breath hitched. She knew that name, knew the stories. She glanced around desperately, with difficulty, seeking her father’s face. Darius stepped forward. “What is this? You’re supposed to be dead! Your bones turned to dust in the wild! How are you here?” “Father!” she called out to her father in the pack link, or tried to. The bond formation was a sacred process. Nothing stopped it, not even death; no psychic abilities would get through or to either party. Chrystal’s eyes shot back to the rogue approaching with a calmness that belied the truth that he, too, was being pulled. The intruder did not appear to be in any discomfort. Her heart suddenly sped up as she watched the wolf move with the pacing of a hunter, a warrior, a killer. A different surge, even as the bond burned every fiber of her being, making its way to below her belly. Her stomach tightened with an unimagined longing, even as the dangers filled her mind like a roiling storm. “Answer me, rogue! What treachery is this?!” Darius snapped, pulling his sword from his side. A weapon that never left him, not even on his mating day. His blue eye burned into Castian’s grey ones. Chrystal blinked as something flashed across Castian’s marble face. It had disappeared instantly, but her blue-green eyes, boring into his face, had caught what seemed like cynicism at its core. She gritted her teeth, holding back a snarl that would have been unworthy of a Luna, even in such extraordinary circumstances. He could not respond, not at this very second, just as she could not speak at the moment. His gaze was on Darius, but it moved to her, and an unwelcome shiver shot through her body, stirring something deep in her core, once again, that she refused to acknowledge or name. He is a rogue wolf, a disgrace to our pack! The goddess wouldn’t make such a mistake as to bind us! If I become a rogue… No. This isn’t real. It can’t be! Castian’s cold grey eyes narrowed. They seemed to assess her in some way, weighing something, but was yet to conclude. Her heart skipped. Can you… hear me…?