The morning sunlight pierced through the high, narrow windows, casting harsh beams across the unfamiliar room like blades of judgment. They sliced through the furs tangled around her limbs, crawling across her face until she could no longer pretend she was asleep.
Selene stirred, her body stiff, her heart heavier still. The bed had grown no warmer through the night. Neither had the room. Even in sleep, her bones had remembered the cold that had settled in them when Kael slammed the door.
Reality returned with cruel clarity.
She was bound to a man who didn't want her, trapped in a house that wasn't her home. The ceremony had marked her as his, but everything in Kael's eyes told her she was nothing.
She blinked up at the ceiling, then slowly sat up, her limbs aching from lying in the same position too long. Her dress — still the pale blue from the binding — was wrinkled and creased. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her lips were dry from a night spent crying into a pillow that smelled of cedar and wolves.
A soft knock startled her, shattering the silence.
Before she could answer, the door creaked open and a slender woman with fiery red hair stepped inside. Her expression was unreadable, but her gaze swept over Selene with barely veiled contempt.
"You're expected downstairs," the woman said coolly, folding her arms across her chest.
"Don't keep the Alpha waiting."
Selene opened her mouth, uncertain if she should introduce herself. "I'm—"
"I know who you are." The woman cut her off with a flick of her gaze. "Try to look like it."
Then she turned, clearly expecting Selene to follow.
Selene rose unsteadily from the bed. She had no change of clothes. No brush. No water to wash her face. No guidance. No warmth. She was dressed like a bride and looked like a ghost.
Drawing in a shaky breath, she smoothed her dress the best she could and followed the woman down the twisting corridors.
The estate was as cold as it was grand — vast halls lined with old paintings and suits of armor, their surfaces dulled by time but still watching. Every step Selene took echoed back at her. She caught glimpses of wolves and servants passing through archways, some casting glances her way, others whispering behind cupped hands.
"She's the one, isn't she?"
"That's her? The Luna?"
"Kael didn't even sleep in the same wing."
The murmurs clung to her like cobwebs.
By the time they reached the wide double doors of the great hall, Selene felt stripped bare. She hesitated at the threshold, her breath caught in her throat.
The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread drifted through the air, mingled with laughter, clinking cutlery, and the murmured rhythm of morning chatter. Dozens of wolves sat at long, heavy tables — warriors, hunters, elders — eating, talking, living.
And then she stepped forward.
The room fell silent.
Forks paused mid-air. Cups lowered. Heads turned.
Every gaze landed on her like a spotlight — some curious, some scornful, others outright hostile.
The new Luna.
The outsider.
The rejected bride.
She forced her chin up, spine straight, though her knees threatened to buckle. Her bare feet on the polished floor made no sound, but the air rang with judgment.
Kael sat at the head table, towering and still, flanked by his Beta Marcus and several high-ranking wolves. He was already eating, tearing into a slab of meat with a knife in hand.
His eyes found hers for the briefest second — cold, unreadable — then flicked away as if she were of no importance.
The red-haired woman — who still hadn't offered her name — led Selene to a seat near the bottom of the hall, far from Kael, far from the power, far from where Lunas usually sat.
The table had space for six, but no one else joined her.
Selene lowered herself into the chair, folding her hands tightly in her lap to stop them from trembling.
No one spoke to her.
No one smiled.
The buzz of conversation resumed, but every word sounded distant — as if she were hearing them through water.
Then came the whispers. Louder this time.
"She's not strong enough to be Luna."
"Maybe Kael will get rid of her soon."
"I heard she tried to run before the ceremony. How embarrassing."
Selene's face burned. Her palms grew damp against the fabric of her dress, and she dug her nails into her thighs beneath the table.
A bowl of stew and a hunk of bread were set in front of her by a scowling kitchen boy. He didn't say a word, didn't even look at her.
Her stomach churned. The scent of the food made her nauseous. She forced herself to pick up the spoon, to pretend she could stomach it.
Across the hall, Kael didn't spare her another glance. He laughed at something Marcus said. He refilled his goblet. He didn't even acknowledge that she existed.
Selene pushed the stew around with her spoon, her throat tight.
Then it happened.
A she-wolf — tall, dark-haired, stunning in a way that made others shrink — strutted past Selene's table with an exaggerated sway of her hips. She paused just behind her and let her voice ring out like a bell.
"Poor thing," the she-wolf said mockingly, loud enough for all to hear. "Married and already forgotten. What a shame."
Laughter rippled through the tables. Not all joined in, but none stopped it either.
Selene froze.
Her hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white.
She would not cry.
She would not flinch.
She would not break in front of them.
The she-wolf sauntered away, triumphant.
Another male wolf leaned toward a friend and muttered, "Bet she doesn't last a moon."
More laughter.
Selene sat perfectly still, every nerve stretched tight.
A younger boy sitting across the hall looked at her — not with cruelty, but with something like pity. She held his gaze for a moment… until the older wolf beside him elbowed him sharply. The boy looked away.
The stew grew cold. The bread hardened. Time crawled.
When the meal finally ended, Kael rose without acknowledging her. The pack followed suit, many glancing at her one last time before filtering out in small groups.
Laughter rose again as the room emptied.
Selene remained alone at the long table, her hands folded neatly in her lap, face blank.
A shadow loomed beside her. It was the red-haired woman.
"Come," she said shortly. "There's work to be done."
Selene rose slowly, smoothing her skirt once more.
She looked at the now-empty hall, at the chair where Kael had sat without ever seeing her.
Then she turned and followed.
But as she walked, her jaw clenched.
She would not let them see her crumble.
They could mock her.
Ignore her.
Hate her.
But they would not break her.
Not today.
Not ever.