The Laughingstock Luna: Alpha's Late Tears Worth Nothing

ASTERIA’S POV

Back when my mate was still an unknown Alpha of a small pack, I rejected our mate bond. Years passed, and he became a strong and powerful Alpha, forcing me to accept my role as his Luna. Everyone admired him for bringing his mate back, for his genuine love for me.

But then he started bringing she-wolves to our pack house every night, and I became a laughingstock in the Snowriver pack. Despite the humiliation, I never confronted him. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I simply retreated to my quarters, living a quiet life and turning a blind eye to his betrayals.

One day, in a fit of rage, he kissed me fiercely and demanded, “Why aren’t you jealous?” Little did he know that I was enduring the curse I received from a full-fledged war years ago. As he took his anger out on me, I silently counted how many days I had left.

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The sound of the wind whistling outside the Snowriver Packhouse never used to bother me. Now, each gust feels like a reminder of the choices I made, the ones that led me here—trapped in a bond I never wanted.

I glance at the silver-framed mirror, the Luna crown on my head a symbol of a title that means little to the pack I’m supposed to lead. The reflection staring back at me seems foreign. My face is paler than it was when I was in Glasswood, my eyes duller, hollowed by sleepless nights and constant worry. Every time I step into the pack meeting hall, they look at me as if I don’t belong. And perhaps, I don’t.

Claude made sure of that.

The door creaks open behind me. His scent hits me before I even turn around—pine and frost. It used to make my heart race. Now it only makes my chest tighten. I don’t bother to look at him. I know who’s with him by the faint laugh that follows. Mara.

I force myself to stand taller.

“Mara," I acknowledge, keeping my voice steady. The longest she-wolf who stated by his side. She’s draped over Claude like a leech, her hand possessively trailing down his arm.

“Luna.” Mara sneers, though the title sounds like a joke on her lips. “We were just talking about the full moon run. You’ll join us, won’t you?”

I don’t answer immediately. Claude’s piercing gaze burns into me, daring me to challenge him. To refuse.

“I don’t think it’s necessary,” I say quietly, folding my hands in front of me, keeping my composure. “I’ll stay here and ensure preparations for the pack run are complete.”

Her laugh is venomous, slashing through the room. “Always the dutiful one, Luna. You really do know your place.”

Claude’s silence is heavier than any words. This has become routine—his games, his punishment. My rejection of the bond years ago didn’t just wound him; it forged his cruelty. He vowed to make me regret it every day, and he’s held true to that promise.

Still, I say nothing. I refuse to give them the satisfaction of my pain.

Claude finally speaks, his voice cold and indifferent. “Suit yourself. Mara and I have more important things to attend to.”

They leave, and the sound of the door shutting feels final, suffocating.

I collapse onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as my body trembles. How did it come to this? I used to be strong—an Alpha’s daughter, trained to lead, to fight. I was supposed to protect my pack, not be a prisoner in someone else’s. But here I am, Luna in name only, stripped of any real power, surrounded by wolves who either pity or despise me.

But I chose this, didn’t I? When Claude came to my father with his offer, I accepted it. My father had been gravely injured, the Glasswood Pack on the verge of destruction. Malakai’s forces were too strong, too relentless. Claude could’ve crushed them too if he wanted. Instead, he offered an alliance—with a price.

I had chosen to save them. And now, I’m the one who needs saving.

The sharp pain in my chest pulls me from my thoughts. It’s been happening more frequently—deep, gnawing aches that come from nowhere. I press my hand against my ribs, trying to steady my breathing. Every time it happens, I wonder if it’s my bond punishing me, if my soul is tearing itself apart from the inside.