By sunset, I’d finished moving out of the Luna quarters. I carried the last box into one of the guest rooms, limping slightly as the pain in my knee worsened. The smell of antiseptic still clung to my hands after treating it myself. No healer had been called. I didn’t want to give anyone another reason to whisper about me being “too weak to be Luna.”
When Ethan finally returned, still smelling faintly of Farah’s jasmine scent, he glanced at the stack of boxes lining the hallway.
“Why are you packing up so much stuff?” he asked, his tone casual—as if the past few days hadn’t turned my world upside down.
I gave him a small smile. “Just clearing things I don’t need anymore.”
His brow twitched, but he didn’t press. “Farah’s just staying temporarily.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
He said nothing else and walked away.
Later that night, he informed me, in a clipped tone, that we’d be attending the Alpha Gathering.
“You want me to come?” I asked, surprised.
“You’re still Luna, aren’t you?” he said flatly. “You’re expected.”
Right. Of course. But I wasn’t the only woman on his arm that night.
Farah came too, draped in emerald silk, her glossy hair braided with moonflowers. She looked radiant. Ethan didn’t hide the way he admired her. The way his eyes trailed her every movement.
We arrived at the venue, a towering hall lit by chandeliers and filled with the scent of power and polished silver. Alphas from across the region mingled in tailored suits, their Lunas standing gracefully beside them. When we entered, the host—a thickly built Alpha from Granite Ridge—approached us with a warm smile.
“Alpha Ethan, Luna Ivy—how lovely to see you again.”
Before I could even return the greeting, Ethan corrected him.
“She’s not my Luna,” he said quickly, gesturing toward me with barely a glance. “This is Farah—daughter of the Snowland Pack.”
The host blinked in confusion, then quickly recovered with a courteous nod. “Of course.”
I said nothing. Not a flicker of pain showed on my face. But inside, I felt something wither.
He didn’t even call me by title. Just my name. Like I was no more than a former acquaintance tagging along.
We sat at our table, and I tried to swallow the bitterness building in my throat. My wolf stirred uncomfortably in my chest, restless, angry, humiliated.
But then something strange happened.