When My Groom’s Mistress Wore My Luna Gown

I'm Sapphire Harlan, daughter of Alpha Harlan of the Blood Moon Pack, and in three days I'm supposed to become Luna of the Iron Fang Pack. Right now, I'm drowning in silk and lace, surrounded by boxes of old academy memories that my staff hauled up from storage for the ceremony displays.

My fingers brush against something papery wedged between two yearbooks. A hand-drawn map, the ink faded but still legible. The old training grounds. The oak tree by the obstacle course. X marks the spot.

The time capsule.

My wolf, Luna, stirs with excitement. *Jefferson will love this.* We buried it together ten years ago, two kids drunk on first love and summer nights. I can still remember his laugh when I insisted we include a lock of my hair, how he'd kissed my forehead and promised we'd dig it up on our wedding day.

I reach out through the mind-link, that invisible thread connecting us across the miles between our territories. *Jeff? Remember our time capsule? I found the map. We should dig it up together—display it at the banquet.*

The connection cuts off so fast it's like hitting a wall.

My phone rings two seconds later. Jefferson's name flashes across the screen.

"Sapphire." His voice carries that edge I've learned to recognize over the years—the Alpha tone he uses in pack meetings, not with me. "Don't dig that up."

"What? Why not? It'll be—"

"It's childish." The words come out sharp, commanding. "You have ceremony preparations to focus on. The seating arrangements still aren't finalized, and your mother's been calling about the floral displays. This is a distraction we don't need."

Luna growls low in my chest. Something's wrong. Jefferson never uses his Alpha voice on me, never tries to force dominance through our bond. And there's something else—a scent threading through the phone connection, acrid and bitter.

Fear.

"Jefferson, it's just a time capsule. It'll take twenty minutes—"

"I said no, Sapphire." His tone drops lower, pressing against my wolf's instincts. "Drop it. That's final."

The line goes dead.

I stare at my phone, Luna snarling in my mind. *He's hiding something.* My wolf's instincts are rarely wrong. She awakened early, when I was barely ten, marking me as one of the strongest she-wolves in our generation. Right now, every fiber of her being screams danger.

The moon hangs full and bright when I pull up to the old academy training grounds. The place looks different at night—shadows stretching long across the obstacle course, the oak tree a dark silhouette against the silver sky. I didn't tell anyone I was coming. Didn't ask permission.

I'm the daughter of an Alpha. I don't need permission.

The map leads me to the oak's eastern roots. I dig with my bare hands, dirt collecting under my manicured nails. My wolf lends me strength, and soon my fingers hit metal.

One box. Then another. Then three more.

Five boxes total.

My heart stops. We only buried two—one for each of