When the Luna Walked Away

The days after the rogue attack dragged by like an endless winter. Though I returned to my duties as Luna, everything felt altered—off-kilter in a way that couldn’t be undone. I tried to fall back into routine, to carry on as though nothing had changed. But everything had. Especially me.

The pack carried on with their lives, laughing, training, working as though that night hadn’t carved a hollow space inside me. But I hadn’t healed. I couldn’t. Not when I was the only one mourning a life no one else even knew had existed. Martin remained blissfully unaware. And he would stay that way. I couldn’t tell him—not now. Not when his loyalty, his affection, his gaze—had long since drifted elsewhere.

I buried myself in obligation. Dawn patrols. Combat drills. Council briefings. Each task I completed felt more like a performance than a purpose. I wasn’t leading—I was surviving. A ghost wrapped in Luna’s skin.

It didn’t take long before the murmurs started.

“Have you seen Luna Ella?”

“She barely speaks to anyone lately.”

“Maybe the trauma changed her…”

They thought I was out of earshot. They thought their whispers didn’t reach me. But they did. And I let them talk. Let them speculate. It didn’t matter anymore.

---

That afternoon, I was standing near the sparring ring, watching two young warriors clash with the easy confidence of those who still believed themselves invincible. My arms were crossed, my mind far away, when I felt a familiar presence draw near.

Even before he stepped into view, I knew it was him.

The scent hit first—pine needles and damp soil. The scent of home. Or what used to be.

My wolf stirred at the familiarity, but I pushed her back. She had cried for him long enough. Not today.

“Ella.” His voice was lower than usual, tinged with caution. Like he knew something had fractured between us but couldn’t name it.

I turned, my gaze cool and unwavering. “What do you want, Alpha?”

His expression flickered with something that looked like concern, but I didn’t trust it anymore. Too little, too late.

“You’ve been... distant,” he said carefully. “The pack notices. They need their Luna.”

I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “They need someone who gives a damn. Right now, that’s not me.”

He stepped forward, frowning. “You’ve always been strong. You’ve held this pack together during harder times than this.”

My jaw tightened. The restraint I’d clung to for weeks began to slip. “Do you think I exist just to be strong for others? To smile and nod while I’m crumbling inside? I’m not here to be your convenient Luna. I won’t keep pretending everything is fine just because it’s easier for you.”

He straightened, his jaw clenched. “That’s not what I think of you.”

“Isn’t it?” My voice rose, sharper than I intended. “Since the moment Marcella showed up, you’ve been blind to everything else. Blind to me. She so much as blinks wrong and you’re at her side. Meanwhile, I was dying right in front of you.”

Martin’s mouth opened, then closed again. He looked stunned. “This has nothing to do with Marcella.”

“This has everything to do with her,” I snapped. “Every moment you rushed to her. Every time you passed me over like I didn’t exist. You might not have meant to choose her, but you did. Repeatedly.”

He looked down, a flicker of shame crossing his features. “I was trying to protect her.”

“I know,” I said, cutting him off before he could continue. “I understand your role. You’re Alpha. You protect the pack. But that night? That ambush? You didn’t protect me. You didn’t even ask if I was okay. You looked right through me.”

He stood there, still and silent.

“I lost something that day, Martin,” I said quietly, the words tasting like rust. “And you didn’t notice. You didn’t ask. You didn’t care.”

He finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “What do you mean? What did you lose?”

The truth clawed at my throat, begging to be released. I lost our child, I wanted to scream. But the words never came.

What would it change? He hadn’t known. He hadn’t seen me. And now… now it was too late.