Alpha Killian's True Luna

5

"Greetings, members of the Great Emberwood pack."

Nicholas’s voice was like a physical force, deep and resonant, cutting through the low murmur of the crowd until there was nothing but absolute silence. He stood tall, the sunlight from the high windows catching the gold in his hair, looking every bit the ruler he was born to be.

"I, Alpha Nicholas Smith, have summoned you here today concerning the great ceremony coming up in three days," he continued. He didn't look at me. He didn't look at anyone specifically yet. He was addressing his people as a whole, his presence commanding their undivided loyalty. "As per tradition, the supernatural clans are preparing to welcome our King. Some have received him, others, like us are waiting. He visited our neighboring pack, Iron Claw, last week, and in three days, it is our turn to host him."

A small stir went through the crowd—a mixture of excitement and nervous tension. A visit from the King was no small thing. It was a time of immense pressure and ancient protocol.

"His purpose is clear, as it has always been," Nicholas said, his eyes scanning the room. "He comes to see how his subjects are doing, to ensure the strength of our borders, and to renew our pact to live as one in harmony. But we must remember the old ways. According to the ancient laws that govern our kind, an Alpha without a Luna is considered weak. A leader without a true partner is seen as a leader with a flank left exposed."

My heart skipped a beat at that statement. A sudden, frantic hope flared up in my chest, painful and hot. I was his wife. I was right here. For all the years of silence and service, I was the one who had stood by him. I thought, for one delusional second, that perhaps the King’s visit meant he had to acknowledge me again. I thought maybe, just maybe, the law would force him to bring me back from the shadows and stand by his side as his Luna.

But Nicholas wasn't finished.

"I shall not be seen as weak," he declared, his voice hardening into something cold and inflexible. "I shall not let the world see me as such, and I will not allow this pack to be looked down upon by the King or the neighboring clans. Only a strong she-wolf can truly take that position and command the respect our lineage deserves."

The hope in my chest didn't just die; it was extinguished, leaving behind a cold, hollow ache. I felt the air leave my lungs. I was human. I could never be a she-wolf.

"So," Nicholas said, his voice ringing out with a finality that made my ears ring, "I hereby announce to you that I will be presenting Sophia as my mate and Luna during the course of this ceremony."

The hall remained silent, but it was a different kind of silence now. It was heavy, laden with the weight of what he had just done. He hadn't just introduced a new partner; he had effectively erased seven years of my life with a single sentence. He had declared me non-existent in front of everyone I knew.

He looked around the gathering, his gaze a silent challenge to anyone who might dare to question his decision or the legality of what he was doing. No one spoke. No one moved. They wouldn't risk the wrath of an Alpha who looked ready to tear the world apart to get what he wanted.

Then, his eyes dropped on me.

For the first time that morning, he actually looked at me. His gaze was cold, empty of any guilt or lingering affection. It was the look of a man checking a minor detail, ensuring that a nuisance had been properly dealt with. I felt the breath hitch in my throat, my lungs burning as I forgot how to inhale.

I forced my eyes away from his, unable to bear the indifference in them, and looked at Sophia. She was standing beside him, her hand still tucked firmly in his. She was looking at me, too. But unlike Nicholas, her expression wasn't empty. She had an obvious smirk on her face, a small, cruel curve of her lips that told me she had won everything I once had. She wasn't just taking my title; she was enjoying the sight of me crumbling.

My insides were screaming. I wanted to howl, to rail against the injustice, to remind him of the vows he took when he was "the most passionate man" I’d ever known. But I was paralyzed. My muscles felt like they had turned to stone, anchoring me to the spot. I truly thought I was going to die right there in the main hall, my heart giving out under the sheer weight of the humiliation.

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. The only part of me that seemed to be functioning was my tear ducts. I felt the hot, salt-heavy tracks of tears streaming down my face, dripping off my chin and onto the floor, marking the spot where I stood as a discarded shadow.

"Good," Nicholas said, his voice returning to a casual, authoritative tone. "Dismissed."

He didn't wait for a reaction. He turned and strode past me, the fabric of his coat nearly brushing my arm as he went. Sophia walked beside him, her head held high, neither of them giving me a second glance. It was as if I were a piece of furniture they had decided to replace.

As the pack members began to file out, talking in hushed, hurried whispers, I just stood there shaking. My legs felt like they were made of water, and I had to lean slightly against the wall to keep from collapsing. The world felt blurry, the sounds of the room receding into a dull roar in my ears.

"Are you going to stand here forever or make yourself useful at some point?"

The voice came from behind me, sharp and grating. I turned my head slowly, my neck feeling stiff, to see Lady Morgan. She was standing a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest. As expected, she had a mocking smile on her face, her eyes bright with a malicious kind of satisfaction. She had always hated that a human had "tricked" her son into marriage, and seeing my final downfall was clearly the highlight of her year.

I couldn't find my voice. My throat felt like it was filled with broken glass. I just stared at her, my face wet with tears, my body still trembling uncontrollably.

"How dare you keep mute while I asked you a damn question!" she suddenly screeched. The transition from a smirk to pure rage was instant. She stepped toward me, her face contorting, and raised her hand high.

I didn't try to dodge. I didn't have the energy left to protect myself. I just closed my eyes, flinching, and waited for the sharp crack of her palm against my face. I waited for the sting that I had grown so accustomed to.

But the blow never came.

"Mother!!"

Nicholas’s voice boomed across the room, vibrating in the air like a warning growl. It was a sound of pure authority, the kind that made even the strongest wolves pause.

I opened my eyes just enough to see Lady Morgan freeze. Her hand was still in the air, but her expression had shifted to one of annoyance. She dropped her hand to her side, huffing a breath of frustration. She glared at me one last time—a look that promised she would finish this later—and then turned and stormed off after Nicholas, her heels clicking angrily on the stone floor.

I stayed where I was, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. I didn't dare look at Nicholas, even though I knew he was still standing somewhere near the front of the hall. I didn't want to see the pity or the annoyance that might be there. I just wanted to disappear.

"To my office. Now," he ordered after a long silence.

He didn't wait for an answer. He turned and walked off toward the private wing of the mansion.

I followed him on autopilot. My mind was blank, my emotions having reached a point of exhaustion where I couldn't even feel the fear anymore. I moved like a ghost, my feet finding the way to his office by memory alone. I had walked this path so many times when things were good, when I would bring him coffee or a mid-day snack just to see him smile. Now, each step felt like I was walking toward my own execution.

I reached the heavy oak door of his office and pushed it open. He was already sitting behind his desk, the light from the window behind him casting his face in shadow.

I stood in the center of the room, my hands clasped in front of me to hide their shaking.