Rejected Luna

The rain lashed against the forest floor, turning the earth into a slurry of mud and decaying leaves. I ran until my lungs burned, my boots slipping on wet roots, desperate for the familiar snap of bones rearranging, the stretch of fur replacing skin. I needed the release. I needed to run on four paws, to let the wolf take the pain that the human could no longer bear.

"Shift, Sasha," I whispered, leaning against the rough bark of an ancient oak, gasping for air. "Please. Just let me out."

I pushed my will inward, reaching for the silver-gray presence that had lived in my soul since I was sixteen. Usually, she was a warm hum in the back of my mind, a source of comfort and instinct. Today, there was only a hollow silence.

I closed my eyes, searching deeper into the void. "Sasha?"

Nothing. No growl, no whimper, not even a flicker of awareness. It was as if a wall had been erected between my consciousness and my wolf.

A cold terror, sharper than the wind biting my skin, settled in my gut. It was the Broken Bond Syndrome. The Healers spoke of it in hushed tones—when a wolf is neglected by its mate for too long, when the human half endures too much rejection, the spirit animal goes dormant to preserve its energy. If the bond isn't repaired, the dormancy becomes death.

I slid down the tree trunk, sitting in the mud, hugging my knees to my chest. I was fading. While Serena played the part of the dying victim in my bed, I was actually dying in the dirt outside.

"I can't die yet," I murmured to the empty woods. "I have a duty."

I forced myself up. If I couldn't be his mate, I would be his Luna. I would be perfect. I would finish the ceremonial robe for the Moon Festival. When Liam saw the dedication stitched into every seam, he would have to remember who I was.

***

The sewing room was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of my mind. For three days, I poured every ounce of my remaining strength into the silk. The robe was a masterpiece of midnight blue, embroidered with the Silverclaw crest in genuine silver thread.

My fingers were raw, the tips pricked and stinging, but I didn't stop. I smoothed the final fold of the heavy silk. It was beautiful. It was undeniable proof of my devotion.

My throat felt like it was filled with sand. I stood up, my legs stiff from sitting for hours, and walked to the door. "Just a glass of water," I told myself. "Then I'll present it to him."

The hallway was empty. I hurried to the kitchenette down the hall, drank a glass of tepid tap water, and turned back. I hadn't been gone five minutes.

As I approached the sewing room, a scream shattered the peace. It was high-pitched, curating a perfect pitch of agony.

"No! Oh goddess, it burns!"

My heart hammered against my ribs as I sprinted the last few feet and threw the door open.

The room smelled of bergamot and scorched flesh. Serena stood by the worktable, her face twisted in a mask of tearful anguish. On the floor lay the ceremonial robe—my masterpiece. It had been clawed to ribbons. The delicate silver embroidery was unraveled, the midnight silk shredded as if a wild animal had torn through it. It looked like flayed skin.

"What..." The word died on my lips.

Serena gripped her left forearm. Steam rose from her skin. A shattered teapot lay at her feet, and angry red blisters were already bubbling up on her pale arm where scalding tea had soaked her sleeve and skin.

"You're back!" Serena sobbed, her eyes wide and terrified. "Why did you come back? Isn't it enough?"

Before I could process the scene, the floorboards vibrated. Heavy, thundering footsteps approached. Beta Marcus appeared in the doorway first, his face pale, followed instantly by Liam.

The Alpha's presence sucked the air out of the room. Liam took in the scene—the destroyed robe, the shattered pot, and Serena weeping over her burned arm.

"Liam!" Serena cried, stumbling toward him. He caught her, his eyes scanning her injury with horror. "I just wanted to see the robe... I wanted to see what a real Luna wears. She came in... she was so angry..."

She buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled but distinct enough for everyone to hear. "She said if she couldn't wear it, no one would! She threw the tea at me, Liam! She tried to burn me!"

"No!" The denial ripped from my throat. I stepped forward, my hands shaking. "Liam, look at the claw marks! I don't have claws right now! I can't even shift! She did this herself!"

Liam looked up from Serena’s injury. His eyes were no longer human; they were a swirling, molten gold, consumed by the beast. There was no recognition in them. No love. Only blind, protective rage.

He moved faster than I could track. One moment he was holding Serena; the next, I was slammed backward.

My back hit the wall with a sickening thud, knocking the wind from my lungs. A large hand clamped around my throat, pinning me in place. My feet dangled inches off the floor.

"Liam..." I choked, clawing at his wrist. His skin was burning hot.

"I have tolerated your jealousy," Liam hissed, his face inches from mine, his teeth bared in a snarl. "I have tolerated your disrespect. But attacking a pack member? Attacking a guest under my protection?"

"I... didn't..." I gasped, black spots dancing in my vision. I looked to Marcus, begging for help, but the Beta looked away, unable to challenge his Alpha's judgment.

"Silence!" Liam roared, the Alpha command vibrating through his hand and into my bones. He squeezed tighter, cutting off my air completely. "You are dangerous. You are unstable. And you are unworthy of the title you hold."

He released me abruptly. I crumpled to the floor, gasping for air, coughing violently as oxygen rushed back into my bruised throat.

Liam stood over me, a towering figure of judgment. He didn't look at the shredded robe—the symbol of my love and labor lying in ruins. He only saw the monster Serena had painted me to be.

"You are stripped of your Luna duties, effective immediately," he declared, his voice cold and final. "You are confined to your room until I decide your punishment. If you step one foot outside that door, I will treat you as a rogue invader."

He turned his back on me, scooping the weeping Serena into his arms. "Get her out of my sight, Marcus."

I lay on the floor, clutching my throat, listening to the sound of them walking away. The physical pain was blinding, but it was nothing compared to the silence in my mind where my wolf used to be. She hadn't even growled to protect me. She was gone. And looking at the shredded silk on the floor, I realized I was gone, too.