Celine sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall like it might offer some kind of explanation for what had just happened. Her body was still tense, her skin buzzing from the weight of hundreds of stares, from the stunned silence that had followed her name being spoken.
She hadn’t asked for this. She hadn’t wanted this.
And yet—Lucy’s voice still echoed in her head.
A Luna should care for everyone.
Celine exhaled sharply, pressing her palms to her face as if she could block out the weight pressing down on her chest. The room felt too big. Too quiet. And she—she felt like a child playing dress-up in someone else’s life. She wasn’t a leader. She wasn’t a warrior. She could barely hold herself together, let alone an entire pack.
The silence only made it worse.
She paced once, twice, then sank into the edge of the bed, her fingers curling around the blanket as if it might ground her. Her thoughts spun, unraveled. She hadn’t asked for any of this. She didn’t even know who she was anymore.
Then came the knock. Firm. Measured. Unmistakable.
She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. The door opened anyway.
Leon stepped inside like he owned the space—and maybe he did. His presence filled the room before he’d even closed the door behind him. Heat, dominance, certainty.
And Celine knew—knew—he was enjoying this. The chaos. Her discomfort. Her unraveling.
The smirk on his lips confirmed it.
“I thought you didn’t want to be a Luna?”
Her face burned. She stood, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, glowering at him. “I didn’t nominate myself.”
His dark eyes glowed with amusement. “No, but someone else did. Which means they see something in you. Shouldn’t that tell you something?”
She scoffed. “It tells me Lucy has terrible ideas.”
Leon hummed, stepping closer, his gaze flicking over her face, searching. Measuring.
“Or maybe,” he said, voice softer now, “it tells me that Lucy sees something the rest of us should have noticed sooner.”
Celine’s throat tightened. He was too close now. Close enough that the air between them turned thick, heavy. His eyes never left hers as he reached down, taking her hand. His skin was warm, his grip firm. A shiver ran through her, unbidden. Unwelcome.
She hated that he noticed.
“You care for the people around you,” he murmured. “Even when you have nothing yourself, you still fight for others.”
Her fingers twitched in his hold.
“That’s a mark of a real Luna, Celine.”
Something about the way he said her name made her stomach flip.
Leon’s lips quirked slightly, as if he could hear the erratic rhythm of her heart, as if he knew the effect he had on her.
He squeezed her hand once before stepping back.
“I have a feeling,” he mused, gaze lingering, “that you’re going to surprise them all.”
Then, before she could even form a response, he was gone. Leaving Celine standing there, breathless, hand still tingling where he had touched her.