My Alpha Watched His Lover Destroy My Mother

I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror, and the girl looking back at me is a stranger.

The white gown they've given me is simple—too simple for a Luna Ceremony, really. No intricate beading, no family heirloom lace like the other she-wolves wear when they mark their mates. Just plain silk that hangs off my shoulders like it's apologizing for being there at all. But I smooth my hands over the fabric anyway, telling myself it doesn't matter. After tonight, everything will change.

After tonight, I'll be Luna. Alpha Marcel's mate. Protected.

The word tastes like honey and ash on my tongue.

"You're being ridiculous, Macy," I whisper to my reflection, practicing the smile I'll need to wear downstairs. "He chose you. The Moon Goddess chose you."

My wolf hasn't surfaced yet—I'm what they call a Late Bloomer, though at twenty-two, most of the pack has stopped using that polite term. Wolfless is what they whisper when they think I can't hear. Broken. Useless. But the mate bond doesn't lie. When Marcel's eyes met mine at the pack gathering three months ago, we both felt it. That golden thread pulling tight between our souls, undeniable and sacred.

He'd looked at me like I was something precious. Something worth protecting.

I cling to that memory now, even as my hands tremble against the silk.

The servants who dressed me earlier wouldn't meet my eyes. They'd worked in silence, their movements efficient but cold, like they were preparing a body for burial rather than a bride for her mating ceremony. When I tried to thank them, they'd scurried out without a word.

It'll be different after tonight, I tell myself again. Once I'm officially Luna, they'll have to respect me. And I can finally move Mama out of those damp Omega quarters in the basement. Get her real medical care, not just the scraps the pack hospital throws at low-ranking wolves. Her aura's been fading for months, her wolf growing quieter every day, and the healers barely glance at her chart anymore.

But a Luna's mother? They'll have to pay attention then.

I practice my vows under my breath, the traditional words feeling clumsy in my mouth. "I, Macy Hart, accept you, Alpha Marcel Taylor, as my mate and my—"

The door explodes inward.

I spin around, my heart leaping into my throat. For one wild second, I think it's Marcel, come to see me before the ceremony. But it's not.

Raquel Foster stands in the doorway, backlit by the hallway lights, and she's not alone.

Three warriors flank her—elite fighters I recognize from training sessions I was never allowed to join. Their eyes are flat, emotionless, like they're on a sanctioned mission. Raquel steps inside, and the way she moves makes my stomach drop. There's nothing friendly in her posture. Nothing civilized.

She looks at me the way a predator looks at prey.

"Raquel?" My voice comes out smaller than I want it to. "The ceremony's about to start,