I Was His Luna—Until He Buried Me Alive

The Moon Scriptorium was never meant for women like me.

Its doors were carved from ashwood older than the packs themselves, etched with lunar runes that shimmered faintly even in daylight. The air inside always smelled of cold stone and ink, a place where truth was preserved whether it pleased anyone or not. Alphas came here to record bloodlines. Lunas came here to register heirs. Elders came to erase inconvenient names.

I had never needed to step inside before.

I was the Luna of Blackthorn Pack. My bond to Alpha Corvin Blackthorn had been sealed five years ago under a full moon, witnessed by the Council, acknowledged by the land itself—or so I believed. Everything in my life had rested on that truth.

Today, I was here for something simple.

A re-etching.

My name had been smudged in one of the official bond ledgers during the last solstice migration. A clerical flaw, my steward said. Annoying, but harmless. Still, Corvin and I had been discussing succession matters lately, and I preferred my records clean. Precise. Unquestionable.

I didn’t expect the Moon to take offense.

The Keeper sat behind the stone desk, her hair braided with silver thread, her eyes pale and unreadable. She accepted my seal without comment, pressed it into cooling wax, then turned to the shelves behind her.

Time stretched.

Her fingers slowed as she skimmed the ledger.

Then she stopped.

I noticed it immediately. Five years of navigating pack politics had taught me to recognize hesitation when it appeared in powerful people. Her stillness was not confusion. It was discomfort.

“Is there a problem?” I asked lightly.

The Keeper didn’t answer at once. She turned another page. Then another. Her lips pressed together, thin as a blade.

Finally, she looked up at me.

“State your name again,” she said.

“Elowen Blackthorn,” I replied. “Luna by bond.”

The silence that followed felt wrong.

“There is no bond recorded under that name,” she said.

I smiled, instinctively. “That’s impossible.”

She lowered her gaze, returning to the ledger. “No lunar bond. No mate imprint. No recognition from the Moon.”

My pulse stuttered. “Perhaps you’re looking in the wrong cycle.”

She slid the book toward me.

“You’re welcome to verify.”

I stepped closer, my heels echoing far too loudly against the stone floor. The page was old, its edges darkened with age, names etched in moon-ink that never faded. I scanned it quickly at first, confident I would see myself there.

I didn’t.

I slowed. Read again.

Corvin Blackthorn’s name was there, burned deep into the page, unmistakable.

But beneath it—

A different name.

Not mine.

The letters seemed to tilt as I stared at them, my vision narrowing, breath thinning in my chest.

Seraphyne Vale.

I shook my head once, sharply. “That’s a mistake.”

The Keeper’s voice was calm, merciless. “Seraphyne Vale was bonded to Alpha Corvin under the Blood Moon eight years ago. The bond remains active.”

“No,” I whispered. “She left the pack years ago.”

“She did,” the Keeper agreed. “But departure does not dissolve a mate bond.”

My hands trembled as I pressed them against the desk. “Then what was my ceremony?”

The Keeper finally met my eyes.

“A forged ritual.”

The words landed softly. Gently.

They still broke something open inside me.

“The witnesses—” I began.

“Paid,” she said. “The markings—false. The Moon never answered. That is why you never bore a mark.”

My throat tightened. “Some Lunas manifest late.”

“Not true mates,” she said quietly.

The room felt smaller. The runes along the walls pulsed once, as if in agreement.

I forced myself to straighten. “You’re saying I was never his Luna.”

“I am saying,” she corrected, “that you were never his mate.”

I left the Scriptorium without remembering how.

The sun outside was too bright, the world far too intact for what had just been taken from me. I walked the length of the city on instinct alone, my body moving while my mind lagged behind, fractured and slow.

Five years.

Five years of leading a pack that was never mine by right.

Five years of believing the quiet distance between Corvin and me was something I could fix with patience.

By the time I reached the Blackthorn estate, my legs felt hollow.

I paused at the study door when I heard voices inside.

Corvin’s voice—cool, controlled.

Another, older. His mother.

And a third I didn’t expect.

The pack advocate.

“…she still believes the bond is real,” the advocate was saying. “She hasn’t questioned it.”

Corvin exhaled, faintly amused. “She never would.”

“She’s efficient,” his mother said. “Obedient. The pack prospers under her.”

“She served her purpose,” Corvin replied.

The words sliced clean.

“And Seraphyne?” the advocate asked.

There was no pause this time.

“She returns tonight,” Corvin said. “With my son.”

The world tipped.

“Elio carries my blood,” he continued. “The pack needs a true heir. The Moon demands legitimacy.”

“And Elowen?” his mother asked.

Silence stretched just long enough to hurt.

Corvin’s voice dropped, colder than I’d ever heard it.

“She’s a liability now.”

My hand slipped from the doorframe. I barely felt it.

“We’ll take care of it,” his mother said. “Quietly.”

The advocate hesitated. “The Luna—”

“She is not my Luna,” Corvin cut in. “Never was.”

The room went very still.

Then Corvin said the words that finally shattered me.

“Take her beyond the northern forest tonight. If she survives the Moon… finish it before dawn.”

I stepped back.

The door creaked.

Silence exploded inside the room.

I didn’t stay to see their faces.

I ran.