The Second Luna

Valerica's POV

The sprawling council hall of the Crimsonmoon Pack felt like a cavern of suffocating anticipation. The air hummed with the rich, heavy scent of cedarwood mingling with the oppressive dampness of the lingering rain outside. I stood perfectly still, my posture rigid as I waited beside the imposing, empty bronze throne that belonged to the Alpha.

The silence stretched until the heavy oaken doors burst open with a violent crash. A frigid blast of snowmelt and sharp pine flooded into the warm hall, sweeping away the dampness. Alpha Garrick had finally returned after a grueling year-long campaign in the unforgiving north.

We had stood before this very pack and pledged ourselves as mates prior to his departure. We were bound by a blood oath, even though he had never formally marked my neck with his fangs. Now, as my eyes locked onto his tall, armor-clad figure, my inner wolf did not whine in relief. Instead, she let out a fierce, rebellious snarl.

Beneath the metallic tang of his armor and his familiar pine scent, my senses caught it. The unmistakable, musky pheromones of another female clung intimately to him. The scent was woven into his very skin.

"Valerica," Garrick announced abruptly. He stepped into the hall. His jaw was set in a stubborn, unyielding line, devoid of any warmth or apology. "The Lycan King's declared Morrigan will join the Crimsonmoon Pack."

He stopped a few feet away, his gaze locking onto mine. "I'm marking her as my mate. She'll be my second Luna, just like you—equal in the Crimsonmoon Pack."

The sheer audacity of his words sent a shockwave through my system. My fist clenched so violently that the delicate silver chain of my Moon Goddess pendant snapped against my palm. I dropped the shattered moonstone to the floor, grinding the precious gem beneath my heel until it was dust.

The roaring rain pounding against the stained-glass windows outside seemed to echo the sudden rushing blood in my ears.

"Two Lunas?" I warned, my voice cutting through the warm hall like ice. "The Moon Goddess would rage at such a blasphemy, and the Crimsonmoon Pack would inevitably weaken under a divided leadership."

I took a step forward, refusing to let my gaze waver. "Last year, you stood right there, swearing before her sacred statue that my eyes were brighter than midsummer's—"

"Those were pheromones talking!" he roared, his voice bouncing off the vaulted ceiling. His patience vanished in an instant.

With a terrifying hiss of steel, his broadsword slid free from its scabbard. He closed the distance between us in a single stride, stepping right into my space. The cold, lethal tip of the blade caught the edge of my damp collar, lifting the fabric away from my skin.

"Look at your neck," he sneered, his Alpha aura pressing down on me. "Even the temporary mark's fading."

He held the blade there for a long moment. Then, his demeanor shifted to a cold, calculating pragmatism. He lowered the weapon and slowly sheathed the heavy blade.

"Morrigan and I fought side by side in the blood and mud of the northern trenches," he stated, lifting his chin with blatant pride. "I used my own hard-earned campaign merits to personally petition the Lycan King for her place here as my official mate. Truth is, I'm telling you this out of courtesy. Your approval is merely a formality I don't actually need."

Bitter memories rose in my throat like bile. They mocked the grueling, thankless sacrifices I made for his pack over the past year. I had held his crumbling territory together. I drained my own resources to feed his people. I played the dutiful future Luna while he was off playing war hero.

I squared my shoulders. "You broke a solemn vow, Garrick." I reminded him sharply of the promise he made before leaving. "You swore that if I fulfilled my duties as Luna while you were at war, you would use those exact same campaign merits to petition the King to help save my fallen Glacierclaw Pack."

He shifted his weight. His massive frame seemed to shrink for just a second. He awkwardly averted his gaze, unable to meet my eyes.

"Let's just forget those words," he dismissed casually. "When we pledged to be mates, I hadn't met Morrigan yet."

When he looked back up, the hardened edge in his eyes vanished. A sickeningly tender softness took its place. "She's unlike any she-wolf I've ever met. I love her."

The suffocating irony of his words made my stomach churn. "And the elder Alpha and Luna?" I asked, my voice dangerously soft. "Do they know about this?"

"They do," Garrick replied without hesitation. "They were already informed and agreed to this humiliating arrangement. They understand the Lycan King's decree."

My own pack fell apart, and I poured my blood into his. My reward was betrayal backed by the very elders I served.

I scanned the hall, my senses extending past the heavy stone walls. "If she's meant to be your mate, where is she? I can't scent an intruder anywhere on our pack lands."

Garrick’s jaw tightened. He shamelessly met my gaze. "I already gave Morrigan a temporary mark to shield her scent."

My inner wolf erupted. A deafening snarl of pure fury ripped through my mind. We swore sacred vows before the Goddess. To sink his fangs into another female while our pledge still stood was a blatant, unforgivable betrayal. My claws extended, biting into my own palms.

He sensed the sudden spike in my lethal rage. His eyes widened slightly, and his warrior instincts flared into defensive action.

Before I could draw another breath, his massive, ironclad frame slammed into me with brutal force. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. My feet left the floor. I crashed backward against a heavy bronze candelabra. The metal groaned under my weight as pain flared up my spine.

I gasped for air, clutching my ribs as the cold bronze pressed into my back.

"I know you feel wronged," he said. He did not step forward to help me. His massive silhouette stood framed by the stormy doorway, rain lashing the stones behind him. "But it's the Lycan King's command. You're still the nominal Luna—until the pack grows familiar with Morrigan."

I straightened up, ignoring the throbbing pain in my back. I forced a chilling, composed smile to my lips. "Then bring her here. I want Morrigan to come see me immediately so I can ask her a few pointed questions face-to-face."

Garrick refused flatly. His tone dripped with protective arrogance. "No need. She's not like the simpering she-wolves you know. A warrior through and through, too proud for petty jealousy."

I stared at him. My posture straightened as I refused to back down even an inch.

"What does that make the she-wolves I know? Or what does it make me, in your eyes?"