The Chosen Luna

**Torin's POV**

I stride into the grand courtroom. The heavy thud of my boots echoes off the polished marble floors. Silas and Gideon trail close behind me as my trusted enforcers, their footsteps matching my lethal pace. The massive double doors swing shut behind us with a resounding thud, sealing us inside the vast hall. My jaw is set. My wolf, Grimm, continues to give me the silent treatment deep within my mind, locking away his strength just when I need his instincts the most. I shove that irritation aside. I have a pack to run and a political nightmare to handle.

I cut straight to the chase the moment I lower my weight into my high-backed Alpha seat at the head of the long oak table.

"And to what do I owe your visit, elders?" I demand, letting my cold voice bounce off the stone walls.

I have no desire to mask my blatant disdain or exchange meaningless pleasantries with these old fools. Their sudden, uninvited presence reeks of political trouble, and it takes no genius to realize this visit centers around the spreading news of my discovered mate. The Council elder wolves think their long existence grants them the right to stick their noses where they do not belong.

Elder Holden leans back in his ornate wooden chair across from me. His gray eyes narrow as he notes the icy edge in my tone. I do not care what he thinks. Holden and I have not seen eye to eye since the bloody afternoon I slaughtered his close friend for daring to question my ultimate authority. He watched that day as I tore a traitor's throat out, and he knows what I am capable of doing to anyone who crosses my line.

Forcing a tight, fake smile, I press on, leaning my forearms against the table. "I am in a hurry, so I would appreciate it if we could just go straight to the point."

Elder Balthazar clears his throat, steepling his wrinkled fingers together. He stares at me from under his bushy gray eyebrows. "It is to our knowledge that you have found your mate, Alpha Torin," he begins, his voice carrying a heavy, judgmental weight that grates on my nerves.

A hot wave of anger surges through my chest. The very mention of that weak rogue sets my blood boiling. I force my facial demeanor to remain neutral, swallowing the feral snarl fighting to escape my throat, but I ensure my words are sharp as daggers.

"May I remind you that whatever happens inside the borders of my pack is none of your business, as long as we do not break the ancient rules?" I shoot back, radiating a dark, warning aura.

Elder Trenton echoes his booming voice through the cavernous hall, unfazed by my threat. "We have a sacred obligation to perform. The Luna coronation."

I scoff internally. They think they can corner me in my own territory. "That is fine by me," I say, keeping my tone calm. "But you will only be crowning Lysandra Vane as my Luna, exactly just like I said in the past."

I watch with immense satisfaction as their old, wrinkled expressions freeze in outrage. Deep down, I already plan to parade the weak rogue, Marcy, as my Luna to the public to satisfy the ancient law, while Lysandra rules everything in the shadows. But right now, I want to push the Council's buttons. I want to remind these dusty relics who holds the true power in this realm.

Lysandra has always been my chosen Queen. She is strong, capable, and worthy of standing by my side. Not some filthy, pathetic rogue the moon goddess tossed into my path as a cosmic joke.

"She is not your destined mate, Alpha Torin," Holden insists, slamming his fist down onto the wooden armrest.

"She is the one I have chosen as my Luna," I shoot back with an uncompromising, lethal glare that dares him to challenge me further.

Trenton stares me down, unyielding to my Alpha aura. He tilts his head, a knowing, mocking glint in his old eyes. "If you have already made your final choice on Lysandra, why then haven't you rejected your mate yet? Don't delude yourself, Alpha, even you cannot be immune to the pull of the mate bond."

His words strike a raw nerve, exposing a glaring flaw in my claim. My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache. Before I can unleash a verbal assault to tear his argument apart, Balthazar stands up. He looks down his nose at me as he delivers their final verdict.

"Your destined mate will be crowned Luna on the night of the full moon, which is exactly two nights away."

The rest of the elders rise to their feet in unified solidarity. The loud scrape of their wooden chairs against the marble floor echoes through the tense silence of the room.

"We have made our decision," Balthazar says, leaving no room for debate.

**Marcy's POV**

I sit alone in the dim, silent confines of my room, pulling my trembling knees tight against my chest. The lavish bedding beneath me offers no comfort to my aching bones. I agonize over the cruel, twisting reality of my miserable existence. My true mate refuses to want me. He despises my very presence, intending only to force me into submission as his secret slave while parading another woman around as his true partner.

Deep within my battered soul, my wolf, Sable, cries out in raw, pathetic pain. Her mournful whimpers echo in my mind without pause, clawing at the fragile shreds of my sanity. I never wanted this twisted, horrific fate. I just wanted a simple life where I belonged to someone who cared for me. I harbored the foolish belief I would be mated with Garrick. He was the one bright spot in my past, the male who always looked out for me with a gentle smile and a protective touch.

But he shattered my heart into a million jagged pieces when he chose my wicked sister, Drusilla, instead. That betrayal left me shattered, casting me out into a cold world. And now, the moon goddess has punished me further by tying my soul to a ruthless monster who looks at me with nothing but disgust.

The heavy wooden door creaks open, shattering the dead silence of the room. I jolt upright on the mattress, my heart hammering a frantic, terrifying rhythm against my ribs. I expect to see Cora or Martha stepping inside with a tray of food or fresh linens.

Instead, Alpha Torin steps inside, casting a dark shadow across the floor.

His sudden, dominating physical presence sparks a turbulent, suffocating mix of pure terror and boiling anger within my chest. The very air in the room grows heavy, saturated with his dark, imposing aura. I want to scream at him, to demand why he treats me like dirt beneath his boots, but the primal fear locks the words in my throat.

He does not say a word at first. His jaw is tight, a harsh muscle ticking along his cheek. His dark eyes narrow to dangerous slits as he takes a fierce, heavy step closer to my bed. I shrink back against the grand headboard, clutching the thick sheets in my white-knuckled fists.

"In exactly two days, on the full moon, the Council will be holding the official Luna's ceremony for you," he declares. His voice is a low, threatening growl that vibrates through the floorboards and straight into my bones, carrying no warmth, no joy, only a cold mandate.

He does not wait for a response. He turns his broad back to walk out, refusing to even look at me for another second. He treats me like a foul disease he cannot bear to gaze upon. But just as he crosses the threshold, he stops at the door frame. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, before he speaks over his shoulder.

He leaves me with a harsh, terrifying warning.

"Don't make any stupid mistakes."