[Daphne’s POV]
I stumble through the forest path, my legs barely holding me upright. My body still trembles—not from the heat symptoms, but from the ghost of Xander's mouth on me, his hands, his words.
His scent clings to my skin. Anyone with a nose will know what happened in those woods.
God, what have I done? Hector deserves so much better than this.
The omega maids are waiting at the servant's entrance. Their faces are carefully blank when they see my dress, my wild hair, the flush still burning across my chest.
They don't ask questions. They just descend on me like a rescue team.
"Your hair, Luna," one murmurs, her fingers working quickly to pin the tangled mess into something resembling elegance.
Another sprays perfume—too much perfume, jasmine and moonflowers drowning everything else. But I can still smell Xander underneath.
His pheromones have soaked into my pores, marked me deeper than skin.
"There." The head maid steps back, surveying her work. "Beautiful."
I look at myself in the mirror and barely recognize the woman staring back.
The white dress is perfect, my light brown hair arranged in intricate braids, my face is painted to hide the flush. But my hazel eyes burn too bright, the green flecks seem to glow with residual heat.
And my lips are still swollen from Xander's kisses, too full despite the soft pink stain the maids applied.
I look like exactly what I am: a woman caught between two males. Two Alpha males, to be specific. Goddess help me…
"The ceremony has already begun, Luna." The maid's voice is gentle but urgent. "Alpha Hector is waiting."
The walk to the ceremonial hall feels endless. Each step sends aftershocks through my sensitized body. The silk rubbing against my thighs where Xander's mouth was, the bodice pressing against breasts he'd worshipped with reverent hunger.
My core still aches with unsatisfied need. The heat is simmering beneath my skin despite the release he gave me.
One climax wasn't enough. My heated body wants more. Wants him.
But it's Alpha Hector waiting for me at the altar. The man who saved me.
The man I'm choosing.
The great doors open, and every head turns. The assembled pack falls silent, tracking my entrance with varying degrees of judgment and curiosity.
I force my chin up, force my steps steady even though my legs shake.
Hector stands at the altar in full Alpha regalia. Midnight black accented with silver, his broad shoulders radiating authority, his expression carefully composed. But when his eyes meet mine, they flash gold—pure wolf rising to the surface.
He smells it. Of course he smells it.
His nostrils flare as I approach, and I watch understanding flicker across his face. His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, but his smile never wavers. To the watching pack, he looks like a devoted mate awaiting his Luna.
Only I see the rage simmering beneath his pleasant mask.
I reach the altar steps and Hector extends his hand. His fingers close around mine—warm, possessive, gripping just a fraction too tight.
"You still smell like my son…" he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear. His thumb strokes over my racing pulse. "We'll fix that."
The promise in his voice sends heat through my body. This is Hector's appeal—his absolute confidence, his certainty that he can make everything right.
I catch movement at the back—Xander against the far wall, arms crossed, expression carved from stone. But his eyes, blue and burning, meet mine across the distance, and I feel some pull between us like a physical tether.
That something in my chest thrums with recognition. With rightness, even as I stand beside another male I’m going to mate.
Xander's lips curve into something too sharp to be a smile.
He looks satisfied. Predatory. Like he's already won something I don't understand yet.
I force myself to look away, to focus on Hector. On the man who deserves my loyalty.
The Elder steps forward. "We gather to witness the sacred bonding of Alpha Hector and his chosen Luna Daphne of Shadow Ridge Pack."
Hector's hand moves to my waist, pulling me against his side. His scent wraps around me—pine and power and Alpha dominance. It should feel suffocating, but instead I find myself leaning into it.
He's solid, real, choosing me when everyone else threw me away.
"I, Alpha Hector Silvermoon," his voice carries to every corner of the hall, "take you, Daphne, as my chosen Luna. I vow to protect you, to honor you, to bind my strength to yours for as long as we both draw breath."
The traditional words. Beautiful. Binding.
His hand slides up my back, fingers pressing against my spine like he's trying to imprint himself there, trying to erase every trace of Xander's touch through sheer force of will.
My heated body responds traitorously, arching slightly into him.
The Elder turns to me. "And do you, Daphne, accept Alpha Hector as your mate? Do you vow to serve as his Luna, to stand by his side, to honor the bond you forge tonight?"
The question hangs in the air. Every eye in the hall fixes on me.
I should say ‘yes’. Hector has given me everything—protection from Talia's cruelty, status in a pack that once mocked me, the title of Luna when everyone else called me worthless.
He chose me when no one else would. He believes in me.
But Xander's scent is still on my skin. His voice echoes in my memory: ‘You belong to me. And you always will.’
"I do." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. Before I can think. “I, Daphne of Shadow Ridge Pack, take you, Alpha Hector Silvermoon, as my chosen mate, and vow to be your Luna.’
Hector's smile widens, satisfaction flashing in his eyes, while The Elder anoints our joined hands with sacred oil.
"By the power of the Moon Goddess and the authority of pack law, I pronounce you Alpha and Luna, mates. May your bond be strong, your union blessed, your bloodline powerful."
Hector turns me to face him fully, his hands framing my jaw with deceptive gentleness. For a moment, I think he might say something—acknowledge what he knows happened in the forest, acknowledge the wrongness of this entire ceremony.
Instead, he kisses me.
It's claiming—his mouth crushing against mine with dominant force, his tongue demanding entrance, his hands fisting in my carefully arranged hair. The kiss is a declaration of ownership.
But god help me, my heated body responds.
His Alpha pheromones wash over me, mixing with the lingering heat symptoms until I'm drowning in sensation. He's a skilled kisser—confident, thorough, making my knees weak with the promise of what's to come.
When I open my eyes, I catch Xander's face over Hector's shoulder—carefully blank but his hands clenched into fists. His jaw works like he's grinding his teeth to powder.
And his eyes meet mine for one devastating second.
Then he turns and walks out.
The sound of the doors slamming shut echoes through the hall like a death knell. Hector pulls me closer, burying his face against my neck. His teeth scrape over my pulse point—not biting, not yet, but the promise is clear.
Tonight. He'll complete the bond tonight.
Mark me permanently. Make sure everyone knows who I belong to.
"Perfect," he murmurs against my throat, loud enough for nearby pack members to hear. His breath is hot against my skin. "My beautiful Luna."
The heat between my thighs pulses at his words. Maybe it's the lingering symptoms, maybe it's his Alpha presence, but I find myself wanting to believe him.
Wanting to let this powerful, patient man show me what it means to be chosen, cherished, claimed properly.
But then his voice drops, becoming something darker, meant only for me.
"Tonight, you become mine completely." His tongue traces the spot where his mark will go. "And we'll see if you still smell like my son in the morning."