The Alpha’s Forgotten Luna

Dust coated my bare feet as I stopped near the bustling trading post just outside the pack borders. The scent of roasted meat and pine needles drifted through the air, masking the metallic tang of old blood still lingering on my skin. I pulled my tattered cloak tighter around my shoulders.

Two women stood near a fruit stall, their voices carrying over the noise of the crowd.

"Six months," the older woman, gray-haired and stooped, muttered. "Six months since the announcement, and still no wedding."

The younger one, holding a basket of apples, leaned in. "I heard Lupa ordered a dress from the city, but Alpha Kaelen refuses to set a date."

"It's worse than just a delay," the older woman whispered, glancing over her shoulder to check for listening ears. "My nephew works in the Alpha's guard. He says Kaelen loses his mind during the full moon. Turns completely violent. Destroys his own study."

"But he has Lupa. A Luna is supposed to calm the Alpha's frenzy."

"That's the strange part. When the madness hits, he won't let her near him. He snarls if she even steps into the room."

"Why?"

"He claims he's still recovering from the silver poisoning. Says he's afraid his claws will slip and hurt her."

Bile rose in my throat. I swallowed it down, forcing a dry, hollow laugh. It slipped out before I could stop it—a sharp, amused sound that didn't match the crushing weight in my chest.

My Alpha. My mate. The man I bled for, suffering in the dark while a liar wore my crown. He was rejecting her touch because his wolf knew the truth, even if his human mind had been deceived.

I stepped out from the shadow of the canvas tent. "Could it be because they don't have a real mate bond?"

Both women jumped. The younger one dropped an apple. It rolled into the dirt, stopping at my bruised toes.

"Are you insane?" the older woman hissed. She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my sleeve, and yanked me behind the wooden stall. "Keep your voice down!"

I yanked my arm back. "It's a simple question."

"It's treason, is what it is," she snapped, scanning the crowd. "If Elder Thorne or anyone from Lupa's family hears you spouting that nonsense, they'll drag you to the dungeons. You want to lose your tongue?"

"Just observing the obvious," I said, my voice flat.

The older woman narrowed her eyes, peering at my face from beneath her shawl. "Who are you? I know everyone in this territory."

"I'm a traveler."

"Your face is a stranger's," she said, leaning closer. Her nose twitched. "But your scent... there's something familiar beneath the dirt. Like crushed herbs and pine. Have you been here before?"

I held her gaze, keeping my expression entirely blank. "No. I'm an orphan. A rogue."

The younger woman picked up her apple, wiping it on her apron. "A rogue? You shouldn't be wandering alone. The woods are full of feral strays."

"I heard from some border guards up north that this pack takes in strays," I lied smoothly. "I came here to join."

The older woman scoffed, dragging her eyes up and down my frail frame. The scars on my arms were hidden beneath the thick wool of my cloak, but my collarbones jutted out sharply. "You? Join this pack? You look like a strong wind would snap you in half."

"I'm stronger than I look."

"A pretty face won't save you during a border raid, girl. The Alpha only accepts fighters or workers." She shook her head, offering a pitying smile. "Good luck to you. You'll need it when the patrol turns you away."

I tilted my head, letting a genuine, cold smile stretch my lips. "They won't turn me away."

"And why is that?"

"Because I have a rare gift," I said, keeping my tone light, almost conversational. "An ability Alpha Kaelen desperately needs right now. Once he sees it, he will beg me to stay."

I didn't wait for her response. I turned my back on the stall and walked toward the towering iron gates of the pack territory.

Two guards stood at attention, their heavy boots planted firmly in the dirt. One held a spear, the other a crossbow. They crossed their weapons as I approached, barring the entrance.

"Halt," the spear-wielding guard barked. "State your business."

"I am here to join the pack," I said, keeping my chin high.

The guard with the crossbow snorted. "We don't take beggars. Move along."

"I'm not begging. I'm offering a trade."

"Trade what? The rags on your back?"

"Information on how to cure the Alpha's lingering silver rot."

The humor vanished from the guards' faces. The spearman stepped forward, lowering the tip of his weapon until it rested an inch from my throat.

"Who told you he's sick?" the guard demanded, his voice dropping to a lethal growl. "Speak, rogue."

Instead of flinching away from the sharp metal, I took a half-step forward. The blade pricked the skin of my neck. A single drop of blood welled up, sliding down my collarbone.

The guard's eyes widened in shock. He hastily pulled the spear back.

"Take me to him," I commanded. "Or watch your Alpha tear himself apart next full moon."

"You have a lot of nerve for a stray," the crossbow guard sneered, though his grip on his weapon trembled slightly. "I should shoot you right here for threatening the Alpha."

"Do it, then," I challenged. "Shoot me. And when Kaelen loses his mind again, when he finally hurts someone he claims to care about, you can explain to Elder Thorne why you killed the only healer who could stop it."

The two men exchanged an uneasy glance. They didn't know what to make of me. A weak, starving rogue who didn't fear death.

"Wait here," the spearman finally muttered. "Don't move a muscle."

He turned and jogged through the heavy iron gates, disappearing into the sprawling compound of stone houses and sparring pits.

I stood perfectly still, ignoring the stinging cut on my neck. The sun beat down on my shoulders, warming the chilled skin beneath my cloak. I had lost my position, my honor, and my blood. But I had not lost my mind. I knew exactly how to play this game. Thorne thought he had broken me. Lupa thought she had won.

They forgot one crucial detail. A wolfless healer relies on her wits, not her fangs.

Ten minutes passed. The heavy thud of approaching footsteps echoed from the other side of the gate. Not just one person. Several.

The heavy iron doors groaned as they swung inward.

A tall figure stepped out of the shadows, flanked by four elite warriors. His broad shoulders blocked the sunlight. His dark hair was slightly messy, and a fresh, jagged scar ran down the side of his jaw.

Alpha Kaelen.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a painful, frantic rhythm. He looked exhausted. Dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes, and his usual commanding aura felt jagged, unstable.

He stopped a few feet away from me. His nostrils flared as he took in my scent.

"You claim you can cure me," Kaelen said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent a shiver straight down my spine.

"I don't claim it," I answered, meeting his piercing gaze. "I guarantee it."

He stared at me for a long, silent moment. A flicker of confusion crossed his features, his eyes darting to the fresh cut on my neck.

"Who are you?" he asked softly.

Before I could answer, a sickeningly sweet voice called out from behind him.

"Kaelen, darling! Why are you out here speaking to trash?"

Lupa emerged from the compound, hooking her arm through his.