His Enemy's Bride, His fated Luna

CHAPTER 4

Alpha Lucian

The world felt colourless ever since that day that Ariana was abducted by those men during our wedding.

Every breath I took without her felt like breathing through broken glass.

I sat alone in my chamber, the heavy drapes pulled tight against the world, a tray of untouched food wilting beside me. My men had long stopped trying to persuade me to eat. The mere scent of food turned my stomach.

I didn’t need food.

I needed her.

I should have protected her.

I should have seen it coming. If I was strong enough, I would’ve been able to protect her.

Every night, I roamed the woods myself, long after the search parties returned empty-handed. I didn’t trust anyone to look hard enough, to do whatever it took to bring her back. I tore through the trees, followed any scent, any broken branch, any whisper of her.

And every night, I came back with nothing but bloodied hands and a more broken heart.

“Ariana…” I whispered into the empty darkness, voice breaking. I really hoped she was okay. I really hoped her captors weren’t hurting her because if they were, I would stop at nothing to make them pay. To make them feel more pain than they had ever in their entire lives.

A knock sounded at the door but I didn’t move. Seconds later, the door creaked open and Reagan, my advisor, stepped inside.

He looked… worried. And Reagan never worried.

“My Alpha,” Reagan said, bowing his head. “There’s been a new discovery, from my end.”

“If it’s not about Ariana, then it can wait,” I rasped. My voice was harsh from too many sleepless nights.

“It’s about her. In a way,” Reagan said carefully. “I’ve been studying… alternatives. Methods considered… unorthodox.”

I turned to look at him fully for the first time in days. “Speak.”

Reagan hesitated, then stepped closer, lowering his voice. “There are blood rituals — forbidden, ancient — that could help us locate her. A bond formed by magic that can bridge even the greatest distances.”

Blood magic.

Every instinct in me screamed against it. Forbidden arts were forbidden for a reason. Unpredictable. Dangerous.

I should have not even given him a listening ear but at this time, I was out of options. I needed to save Ariana. No matter what it took.

“What do you need?” I asked, my voice flat.

Reagan looked relieved and troubled at the same time. “Your blood. A sacrifice. And… acceptance that some consequences may be permanent.”

I didn’t care about consequences.

I only cared about her.

“Do it,” I growled. “Whatever it takes.”

Reagan nodded solemnly. “Then prepare yourself. But…” His eyes flickered with hesitation. “I can’t do it just yet.”

“Why? What’s stopping you?” I asked, my voice slightly raised.

“There is another matter that requires your attention.”

I clenched my fists. “What?”

The High Council meeting felt like a mockery.

The grand stone chamber buzzed with low voices as I entered, the banners of Mooncrest hanging limp above the council table. My Beta, several elders, and captains of the guard were already seated.

They all rose at my entrance, murmuring their titles. I barely acknowledged them as I sank into the Alpha’s chair at the head of the table.

“Alpha Lucian,” Elder Hawthorne began, his voice brittle with nerves, “we must address the growing unrest in the villages.”

I said nothing.

He glanced nervously around before continuing. “Livestock is being slaughtered. Crops trampled. Tracks found in the woods — large, clawed. It’s unlike anything we’ve seen.”

“Some say it’s a rogue beast,” another elder added. “Others… something worse.”

The council murmured their agreement, voices rising in a clamor of concern.

I sat rigid, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

“And what,” I said finally, voice cutting through the noise, “would you have me do?”

The council fell silent.

“My mate,” I growled, slamming my hand against the table so hard the wood cracked, “was stolen from under our very noses! And you want me to chase after livestock?”

Several council members flinched.

“My Alpha,” Reagan said carefully, “your people are frightened. Morale is breaking. If we don’t act, we risk rebellion within our own borders. Mooncrest needs strength — not just to find Lady Ariana, but to survive.”

His words struck home harder than any blow.

I was failing my people.

Failing her.

I sat back heavily, staring down at the scarred table. My blood thundered in my ears.

Finally, I exhaled a long, shuddering breath.

“Send Varrick,” I said hoarsely. “He’ll handle it.”

A ripple of uneasy approval passed through the room.

“My Lord, are you sure?” One of the elders spoke.

“Varrick is a storm that we haven’t unleashed in a while. If we set him loose again, we might not be able to contain him.” Elder Hawthorne said.

“Do you want to go in his stead?” I asked sarcastically.

“My lord, you’re not thinking straight. Lady Ariana’s disappearance had got you distraught. Sending Varrick on a hunt after what happened last time is just… just crazy.” Elder Hawthorne replied.

“I am not distraught.” I snapped.

Varrick was our best hunter. Ruthless and unstoppable but he was crazy. He liked killing a bit too much but he was efficient. He always got the job done without any difficulty.

“If anyone has an objection to bringing in Varrick, they can hunt whatever is killing the livestock themselves.” This statement silenced them instantly. “Go and release Varrick from his cell.” I said in a low tone, turning to the guard by my right.

“As you wish, my lord,” He bowed and exited the room.

In a matter of minutes, the heavy doors to the council chamber swung open.

Footsteps echoed ominously across the stone floor.

Every head turned.

Varrick strode in — a towering figure clad in black leather armor, twin axes strapped across his back, a silver dagger at his hip, and a crossbow slung over one broad shoulder. His face was expressionless, save for the faint scar running down his left cheek — a reminder that he had survived things most men couldn’t imagine.

The air seemed to grow colder with every step he took.

He stopped before the council table and bowed stiffly.

“You summoned me,” he said, voice low and rough like gravel.

“I have a hunt for you,” I said. “Something is killing livestock and is causing unease in the pack. I want it taken care of.”

Varrick’s lips curled into a cold, devilish smile.

He reached over his shoulder, unslinging one of his axes, the blade gleaming.

“As you command,” he said darkly. “It’s been too long since I tasted the thrill of a real kill.”

The other council members looked stiff as they stared at him, unable to breathe properly.

He slammed the axe head into the ground with a chilling thud, and the stone floor cracked beneath the

impact."Tell your villagers,” Varrick said, his voice almost a whisper, but it carried to every corner of the chamber,

“The hunter has awoken.”