After My Sister Became Luna, I Was His Blood Slave

The night of the Star Festival transformed Silver Creek into a wonderland of lanterns and moonlight. A year had passed since I'd washed up on their shores—a broken, nameless woman with no memories. Now I stood beside Ian, my fingers intertwined with his as we watched the pack celebrate below us.

"Are you happy here?" Ian asked softly, his breath warm against my ear.

I turned to face him, studying the features that had become so dear to me. "Yes," I whispered. "Happier than I ever thought possible."

The moonlight caught in his dark eyes as he cupped my face with gentle hands. "Elara, there's something I need to tell you."

My heart stuttered. "What is it?"

"We're Fated Mates," he said simply. "My wolf recognized you the moment I found you by the river."

The words hung between us, heavy with meaning. I'd learned enough about werewolf culture to understand what he was saying—that the Moon Goddess herself had destined us for each other.

"But... my memories," I whispered. "I don't know who I was before."

"It doesn't matter," Ian said fiercely. "Your past doesn't define you. And I don't need your memories to know that you're mine."

Something stirred within me—not my dormant wolf, but something deeper. Trust. Faith. Love.

"Yes," I said, surprising myself with the certainty in my voice. "I want to be yours."

---

The full moon bathed us in silver light as we stood in the sacred circle. The pack gathered around, their faces alight with joy. Ian's hands were warm as they clasped mine, his eyes never leaving my face.

"Under the witness of the Moon Goddess," Elder Thorne intoned, "these two souls come together as Fated Mates."

I wore a simple white dress adorned with wildflowers—symbols of new beginnings. Ian looked magnificent in traditional Alpha ceremonial attire, his presence commanding yet gentle.

"Elara," he said, using the name we'd chosen together, "I claim you as my mate, my Luna, my heart."

The words flowed from my lips with surprising ease. "Ian, I accept you as my mate, my Alpha, my home."

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against my neck. "May I?"

I nodded, tilting my head to expose the curve where neck met shoulder. His teeth grazed my skin before sinking in—not to hurt, but to mark. To claim.

A jolt of electricity shot through me at the contact. Something warm and golden unfurled in my chest, spreading outward until my entire body hummed with it. The mate bond—stronger and more vibrant than anything I could have imagined.

For the first time since awakening in Silver Creek, I felt truly whole.

---

Two years passed in a blur of happiness. I flourished as Luna of Silver Creek, my confidence growing alongside my love for Ian and our pack. Though my wolf remained dormant, I no longer felt the hollow ache of incompleteness.

The invitation arrived on a spring morning—an ornate scroll bearing the seal of the Grand Alpha Summit in Seattle.

"We don't have to go," Ian said, watching me read it. "Many Alphas send representatives."

I set the invitation down, studying his face. "But you want to go."

He nodded slowly. "It's important for Silver Creek to maintain alliances. But..."

"But what?"

"I worry about you," he admitted. "The Summit draws Alphas from all territories. What if something triggers your memories?"

I took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "I'm stronger now. I want to stand beside you."

Ian searched my face for a long moment before nodding. "Together then."

---

Seattle gleamed with modern architecture and old-world werewolf traditions. The Summit reception buzzed with activity as Alphas from across the continent mingled and negotiated.

Ian kept me close, his hand at the small of my back as we navigated the crowd. I wore a gown of midnight blue, my hair adorned with silver pins that caught the light.

"Luna Elara," Alpha Marcus of the Northern Territories bowed slightly. "Your reputation precedes you—they say Silver Creek has never been stronger."

I smiled, no longer flinching at compliments. "Thank you, Alpha Marcus. Ian's leadership—"

A sudden hush fell over part of the room. Curious, I glanced toward the disturbance.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with cold eyes stood frozen in the doorway. His gaze swept the room with predatory intensity until—

Until it locked on me.

Something primal and terrifying stirred within me at his gaze. My body tensed, ready to flee though I didn't know why.

"Who is that?" I whispered to Ian.

Before he could answer, a breeze from an open window carried a scent across the room—my scent.

The stranger's nostrils flared. His eyes widened, then narrowed to slits.

"Impossible," he growled, loud enough that nearby conversations stuttered to a halt.

He took a step forward, then another, his gaze never leaving me. "It can't be."

Ian's arm tightened around my waist as the man moved through the crowd toward us. Other Alphas sensed the tension, turning to watch.

"Knox," someone murmured. "Alpha Knox Graham of Blood River."

The name meant nothing to me, yet ice flooded my veins as he approached.

Across the room, a woman in an elegant red dress froze, her champagne glass halfway to her lips. "No," she breathed. "It can't be her."

I didn't see her. All I could see was Knox's face—and the moment our eyes met, something inside me whispered a name I didn't recognize.

*Kyra.*