Aria
The visiting Alpha arrived with a caravan of black and silver carriages, his pack’s crest gleaming on the sides—a blood-red moon split by twin fangs. Everything about his presence screamed power. And beside him, walking with confidence and arrogance stitched into every step, was Selene.
His daughter. Beautiful, tall, and cruel.
Her hair shimmered like spun silver, her waist was tiny, and her dress fit her like it had been stitched by moonlight itself. The moment her eyes landed on me standing at the top of the steps in my too-tight dress and too-round body, her lips curled.
“So,” she purred, loud enough for everyone to hear, “this is the Luna of Blue Stone?”
The word Luna tasted like poison in her mouth.
“She looks more like a servant girl playing dress-up.”
Laughter bubbled behind her from her guards. My heart twisted, but I didn’t flinch. Not this time.
Behind me, Ryle didn’t correct her. He didn’t defend me. He only smiled, clapped the visiting Alpha on the shoulder, and said, “Come. We’ve prepared a feast. My son will keep Selene company.”
Your son? My mate?
Matthew stood stiff beside Ryle, jaw tight, but said nothing. His eyes flicked to me just once. I waited for him to say something—anything—but his lips stayed sealed. He turned toward Selene like it was expected of him.
Like I wasn’t standing right there.
The days that followed were worse than anything I’d imagined.
Selene made herself at home in the Pack House, her laughter echoing through the halls like a challenge. Ryle doted on her—offering her the best rooms, the finest wine, constant praise.
“Elegant. Poised. Refined,” I overheard him telling the elders. “Exactly what this pack needs.”
Matthew spent time with her. I watched them train, talk, walk. She never missed a moment to touch him—resting her hand on his chest, leaning in to whisper. And he… he never pulled away.
Even though I was his. Even though I bore his mark. I was expected to host her—welcome her.
Every day I was handed gowns tailored for a body smaller than mine. The fabric pinched at my waist, hugged my arms too tightly. I could barely breathe in them. But they still made me wear it. Because Selene liked to see me uncomfortable.
“Oh, Aria,” she said one night at dinner, smiling sweetly. “Did no one tell you chiffon isn’t forgiving?”
The table laughed. Matthew said nothing.
He looked at his plate like it had become the most interesting thing in the world. And that silence—his silence—was the loudest betrayal of all.
After the meal, I slipped out early and wandered toward the edge of the courtyard. I couldn’t cry. I wouldn’t give them that.
“Aria.”
I turned.
Elias.
He looked at me like he already knew how broken I felt. He stepped closer, eyes gentle. “Come with me.”
My breath caught.
“There are other packs,” he said softly. “Other futures. You don’t have to stay where you’re unwanted. Where you’re treated like this.”
I stared at him, wishing with everything in me that I could just say yes. That I could take his hand and vanish into some better life. But something inside me—something hard and steady—wouldn’t let me run.
Not yet.
“I’m not the girl who knelt at the border anymore,” I said quietly. “I’m not going to break just because they want me to.”
Elias’s eyes softened with something close to pride.
“I have to stay,” I whispered. “Just long enough to remind them who they’re trying to erase.”
That night, the courtyard was quiet. Only a few warriors lingered, training under the moonlight. I stepped into the ring, barefoot, my hair tied back.
Selene stood nearby, laughing with two of her guards. I walked straight up to her.
Her brows lifted in amusement. “Oh? Is it story time with the kitchen staff?”
I didn’t blink.
“I challenge you.”
She laughed. Loud. “You what?”
I raised my chin. My voice was clear, unwavering. “I challenge you. In front of the pack. Right here. Right now.”
Gasps echoed around us.
“You want to fight me?” Selene sneered, glancing around to the guards who were now watching, intrigued. “Sweetheart, I was training before you were even old enough to hide behind your kitchen rags.”
“I’m not hiding anymore.”
She took off her earrings with a grin. “Fine. I could use a warm-up.”
The crowd gathered quickly—warriors, omegas, elders. Even Matthew stepped out of the shadows, eyes narrowed, jaw locked. Ryle appeared moments later, arms crossed, silent.
We stepped into the ring. She lunged first—fast, trained, cocky. But I had learned pain. I ducked. Pivoted. Let her punch swing wide and caught her off-balance. She came at me again—this time with more force.
I took the hit to my shoulder and let the momentum carry her forward. I twisted, grabbed her arm, and used her own weight to throw her flat on her back in the dirt.
The courtyard gasped. Selene blinked up at me, dazed. I stood over her—mud on my arms, sweat on my brow, but unshaken.
And then a voice broke the silence. Cold. Authoritative. Disgusted.
“This Luna,” Alpha Ryle declared as he stepped into the ring, his voice echoing through the courtyard, “is a disgrace to Blue Stone.”