Luna Rejects Her Alpha

The Harvest Moon hung heavy and silver over the Moonstone Pack's ceremonial grounds, casting long shadows across the feast tables. Eight years. Eight years since Davis had marked me under this same moon, promised me forever in front of the Moon Goddess herself. Tonight should have been a celebration of our bond, but as I watched my mate laugh at something Ivory whispered in his ear, I felt nothing but the hollow ache where our connection used to pulse with warmth.

The ceremonial feast had been magnificent—roasted venison glazed with honey and herbs, fresh-baked bread still steaming from the ovens, platters of autumn vegetables arranged like art. I'd helped the pack omegas prepare it all morning, my hands trembling from the weakness that never quite left me anymore. Three years since that ritual. Three years of feeling like my life force was slowly draining away, and still no one asked if I was well.

Davis moved through the crowd with Ivory at his side, his hand hovering at the small of her back in a gesture that once belonged only to me. She wore a dress the color of moonlight, her dark hair cascading over bare shoulders. Beautiful. Submissive. Everything a proper omega should be. The former Luna Richardson had complimented her appearance three times already, each word a small knife between my ribs.

"Luna Eliana." Davis's voice startled me from my thoughts. He stood before me now, Ivory still attached to his side like a shadow. In his hands, he carried a plate.

My stomach tightened as I looked at what he offered. The venison had been picked over, leaving only gristle and fat. The bread was the heel of the loaf, dense and hard. Wilted greens that someone else had pushed aside.

"I brought you some food," Davis said, his tone flat, perfunctory. The same voice he used to dismiss pack business he found tedious. "You should eat something."

Behind him, I could see the main feast table where the finest portions remained—tender meat, golden-crusted bread, the ceremonial first fruits. Ivory's plate, I noticed, had been filled with those choice selections. By Davis's own hand.

"Thank you, Alpha." The words tasted like ash. I took the plate, felt its weight settle in my lap like judgment. Around us, pack members watched with carefully neutral expressions, but I saw the pity in some eyes, the satisfaction in others. The former Luna Richardson smiled across the clearing, her arm linked with Ivory's as she laughed at some shared joke.

Davis had already turned away before I could say anything more. He guided Ivory toward the ceremonial fire, where the elders waited to bless this year's harvest. Where he should have been standing with me, his marked mate, on our anniversary. Instead, I sat alone on the edge of celebration, holding a plate of scraps like a beggar at the feast.

The weakness hit without warning. One moment I was breathing normally, the next my vision swam and my chest constricted