The Luna's Shadow Rejects Her Alpha

When I was fifteen, my father, Gideon Patterson, a Delta warrior in the Moonlight Pack, died saving the life of Dax Munoz, the Alpha heir. After his death, Faith Munoz, the Luna of the pack, took me in, and with Dax's silent approval, I became the quiet shadow that followed him around.

It wasn’t until the beginning of our senior year that I accidentally knocked over the coffee Dax had bought for Anastasia Alvarez, a Beta from the rival Nightshade Pack. For the first time, Dax was upset with me.

"Brooklyn," he said, his voice cold and authoritative, the Alpha tone cutting through the air. "Your father saved me, but the Munoz family has housed you for three years. We don’t owe each other anything."

He walked away, hand in hand with the radiant Beta, leaving me to quietly clean up the mess on the floor. My wolf whimpered softly in the back of my mind, but I silenced her. I grabbed the pack application form and silently crossed out my choice to follow Dax to the Alpha’s training grounds. From then on, we were square.

---

After changing my pack preferences in the office, I slowly made my way back to the training hall, carrying a stack of scrolls detailing combat strategies. The morning training session had just ended, and the warriors were resting quietly, their auras subdued but still commanding respect.

In the corner of the hall, Dax was intently tutoring Anastasia in advanced combat techniques. The sunlight filtered through the towering trees outside, casting a soft glow on their faces as they sat closely together. It was peaceful, almost beautiful.

My gaze drifted over Anastasia’s vibrant and confident expression, settling on the damp corner of her tunic. I had accidentally spilled her drink earlier, and Dax had escorted her to the pack’s healing quarters to clean up. Remembering the way he had walked away briskly, the skin on my hand, still stinging from the hot liquid, throbbed again.

"Thud..."

Someone tripped me up while I was distributing the scrolls, and they scattered to the floor. The noise disrupted the corner group. Dax glanced at me briefly before resuming his lesson. It was his Gamma friends who decided to tease.

"Alpha Heir," one of them called, smirking, "looks like your shadow wants some combat lessons too."

Despite excelling in other areas, combat had always been my Achilles’ heel. Before Anastasia joined our pack, Dax would tutor me in combat after morning training every day. The hall erupted into soft laughter, but I ignored it, bending down to gather the scattered scrolls.

Sensing my struggle, Dax frowned and considered helping. But just then, Anastasia, who had been chewing on her lip in thought, wrapped her arm around his.

Noticing me, she flashed a bright, self-assured smile. "Sorry, Brooklyn, I’m not great at advanced techniques, and the Alpha paired us in the same training group."

"First come, first served. I can’t give him up to you, okay?" She stuck out