19 Times Postponed Mating Ceremony, the Alpha Lost His Luna

The enforcers seized me by the arms.

“It wasn’t me! Moon above—open your eyes! She set this up! Myrielle baited the trap, not me!” I thrashed against their grip, my voice cracking.

“Draven!” I cried, desperate. “Weren’t you the one who swore to shield me? Look at me—look at my hands!”

But no one listened. Not the enforcers. Not him.

The only reply was the echoing thud of an iron cell door slamming shut.

Shadow swallowed me whole.

The burn on my palm mingled with the freezing bite of the cold cavern—heat and ice tearing at me in cruel waves.

As I shivered, memories clawed back through the dark.

cycles ago, in the outer farmlands of Silverhaze Territory, Draven’s drunken sire had nearly beaten him to death.

I could still see the terror in Draven’s young wolf-eyes.

Without thinking, I stepped between them. The strike meant for him crashed across my cheek, stars exploding in my vision.

Something inside Draven snapped. He went feral—cornered, wild—lashing out at the Alpha he feared. When the older wolf staggered, Draven grabbed my hand and dragged me into the storm.

We hid in my small den while the rain hammered the roof. I trembled as I held his hand; he clutched mine just as tightly, eyes fierce yet soft.

“Lunessa,” he whispered, “I’ll never let fear touch you again.”

Back then, he had been my refuge.

Now, he was the nightmare standing on the other side of the door.

The cold gnawed into my bones. I clenched my teeth, refusing to collapse.

My grandmother and father were still waiting for me to come home—waiting for me to keep our fragile lives from falling apart.

“Draven! Let me out!” I kicked the iron door again and again until my toes went numb and my knuckles bloodied. It didn’t move.

I didn’t know how long I lay there before the hinges finally groaned open.

Draven stepped inside with several warriors behind him, his expression unsettlingly gentle. “Lunessa,” he murmured, “are you cold?”

He reached toward me. My pupils trembled. My throat was so dry no words came out.

Then I saw the warrior holding a metal kettle, steam rising from the spout. My pulse lurched.

“Draven… what are you doing?” I forced my voice steady, terrified of the answers forming in my mind.

He didn’t reply. Only looked at me with a cold, unfamiliar gleam.

“Your greatest mistake,” he said softly, “was harming Myrielle.”

“I didn’t spill that broth!” I choked. “Check the scry-stones—check the hall runes—it wasn’t me! I swear on the Moon, it wasn’t me!”

He didn’t flinch.

He lifted a hand. The warriors pinned me to the freezing floor. I kicked, clawed, pleaded—but it didn’t matter.

A hiss split the air. An instant later, blistering agony ripped across my back as boiling water hit my skin.

I screamed, my throat tearing raw. My healing wounds burst open, flesh searing, blood sizzling where it met the heat.

I thought I knew pain before. I hadn’t. Not until now.

And through the agony, one regret echoed over and over.

I regretted following Draven. I regretted loving him. I regretted shielding him that night from his father. I regretted believing every promise he ever whispered.

Because loving him had ruined not just me—but my pack.

Draven watched in silence. His eyes were dark, endless, unreadable. He looked like he wanted to speak, but he stayed silent.

When it ended, he stepped close and draped his cloak over my shoulders.

“Lunessa,” he murmured, voice trembling, “be good. As long as you obey, I’ll treat you well.”

His gentleness was venom.

The world spun. Darkness swept in. I fainted.

***

I woke under a blindingly white healer-sanctum ceiling. The scent of herbs stung my nose. My back burned with every breath, pain sharp enough to steal sound from my throat.

The door slid open.

Calder’s attendant stepped inside, expression composed. “Luna Lunessa,” he said evenly, “the separation pact has been drafted.”

He continued, “Master Calder wished to deliver it himself, but he was summoned to another territory. He asked me to remind you—you have five days. If you secure Alpha Draven’s mark within that time, he’ll handle the rest. You’ll have a way out.”

My gaze was empty. Lifeless. I took the parchments and clutched them to my chest.

During the following days, while waiting for the pact’s progress, I quietly arranged for my father and grandmother to be transferred to healing dens outside the kingdom.

But Myrielle kept them under tight watch, refusing any relocation—she wanted control.

Three days later would be her birthday gathering. My one chance.

“Lunessa, you will attend Myrielle’s celebration.

Draven’s tone was cold, commanding. “Your father’s recovery depends entirely on her. At the gathering, you will declare that your grandmother’s Moon-healing was done with your consent.”

He added, voice like ice, “Your father’s outburst at the Hall has already embarrassed the Blackspire name. Myrielle suffered humiliation because of you. You will correct it.”

My heart pounded, fury and despair twisting inside me.

“Draven, have you lost your mind?! Myrielle is the reason my grandmother still lies in the Healing Den—what she did was a crime! And you want me to lie for her?!”

He stepped close, his breath brushing my ear, too gentle to be anything but cruel.

“Lunessa… this is truly the last time. Myrielle’s father hasn’t acted yet. If he does… I don’t want you hurt. Just behave. Don’t provoke her.”

A tremor ran through me. Humiliation and pain tangled until breathing became a struggle.

“As long as you agree,” he said, “I’ll ensure your father walks again. If you refuse…”

The rest carved through my chest like a blade.

I lifted my hand to slap him, but he caught my wrist. “Lunessa,” he murmured, almost tender, “don’t make this difficult.”

The man before me was a stranger. The same wolf who once sheltered me was now my captor, weighing my obedience like a verdict.

Disgust. Rage. Revulsion. All of it boiled until only hatred remained—deep and relentless.

I steadied my voice. “Fine. I’ll go. But you’ll secure a den for my father and grandmother to live in.”

I turned to the last page of the supposed den agreement—secretly the unmating parchment—and handed it to him.

Once he placed his mark, our unmating would take effect immediately.

And two days later, I would take what remained of my pack…and leave him forever.