The Alpha's Moon Marked Luna
Solange Daye
109.5k Words / Ongoing
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Introduction
"They've decided to marry me off," I say, "To Blackmoor."
Grace's brows lift slightly. "I know."
"You... what?"
"Father told me after council," she says easily. "It's a smart move."
I swallow. "Grace, it's Alpha Gaven. He's dangerous. They say he killed his own father. That he..."
"That he rules effectively," she interrupts. "Which is more than can be said for most Alphas who hesitate."
I stare at her. "I'm scared. I am not enough for him. We both know that. He will sense it as soon as he meets me."
I hate myself for offering it so freely. But she's my sister. If I don't say it to her, I don't know who I could.
"I need help," I say. "I can't go to Blackmoor. I don't have a wolf. I don't even know how to..."
She cuts me off, "You're not meant to be Luna. You are just meant to warm his bed from time to time. Give him an heir or two."
Grace continues, "But I am meant to be Alpha. And this alliance makes that possible. Blackmoor's support will silence any challenges. The elders will fall in line. I can take my rightful place."
Fern was supposed to be the heir who would secure the pack's future. When she was born a girl and never received a wolf, Fern was cast aside and raised among the Omegas, treated as little more than a servant in her own pack.
So when her father trades her in a political marriage to secure an alliance, Fern understands exactly what she is: expendable.
Her contracted mate is Alpha Gaven of Blackmoor, the most feared Alpha on the continent.
What Fern doesn't know is that Gaven recognizes her as his true mate the moment he scents her. And he refuses her.
To Fern, he is a monster forged in blood and power.
To Gaven, the bond is a cruel twist of fate he refuses to accept.
Bound by contract , they clash at every turn as resentment, obsession, and forbidden desire begin to blur the line between hatred and need.
Grace's brows lift slightly. "I know."
"You... what?"
"Father told me after council," she says easily. "It's a smart move."
I swallow. "Grace, it's Alpha Gaven. He's dangerous. They say he killed his own father. That he..."
"That he rules effectively," she interrupts. "Which is more than can be said for most Alphas who hesitate."
I stare at her. "I'm scared. I am not enough for him. We both know that. He will sense it as soon as he meets me."
I hate myself for offering it so freely. But she's my sister. If I don't say it to her, I don't know who I could.
"I need help," I say. "I can't go to Blackmoor. I don't have a wolf. I don't even know how to..."
She cuts me off, "You're not meant to be Luna. You are just meant to warm his bed from time to time. Give him an heir or two."
Grace continues, "But I am meant to be Alpha. And this alliance makes that possible. Blackmoor's support will silence any challenges. The elders will fall in line. I can take my rightful place."
Fern was supposed to be the heir who would secure the pack's future. When she was born a girl and never received a wolf, Fern was cast aside and raised among the Omegas, treated as little more than a servant in her own pack.
So when her father trades her in a political marriage to secure an alliance, Fern understands exactly what she is: expendable.
Her contracted mate is Alpha Gaven of Blackmoor, the most feared Alpha on the continent.
What Fern doesn't know is that Gaven recognizes her as his true mate the moment he scents her. And he refuses her.
To Fern, he is a monster forged in blood and power.
To Gaven, the bond is a cruel twist of fate he refuses to accept.
Bound by contract , they clash at every turn as resentment, obsession, and forbidden desire begin to blur the line between hatred and need.
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"Come here."
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"What?" It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I did not wait for him to answer me, I walked toward him.
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I gasped into him, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw, holding me as if afraid I might vanish.
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His hand caught mine, fingers threading together tightly. "I'll bring him back. I swear it. Just... don't turn away from me. Please."
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Ella never imagined she would marry the man she had secretly loved for years in such a way.
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He didn't finish. He didn't need to.
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Instead, my fingers curled into his shirt, clutching the fabric as though it was my only anchor. Something in him snapped—something he had been holding back for too long. His mouth found mine in a kiss that wasn't tender, but hungry, desperate.
I gasped into him, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw, holding me as if afraid I might vanish.
"You drive me insane," he breathed against my mouth, his lips trailing to my throat. "I can't lose you, Ella. Not you."
My head fell back, a soft sound escaping me as his fingers memorized my waist. My anger melted beneath his desperation.
"James..." I whispered, more plea than protest.
His hand caught mine, fingers threading together tightly. "I'll bring him back. I swear it. Just... don't turn away from me. Please."
The word please—low, ragged, almost broken—undid me more than anything else could have.
Ella never imagined she would marry the man she had secretly loved for years in such a way.
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About Author
Solange Daye
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