Selene's Point of View.
"Luna Selene." I muttered in disgust as I walked into a room.
The room was suffocatingly beautiful.
Golden candlelight flickered across silk-draped walls, casting soft shadows over the carved mahogany furnishings and velvet-lined alcoves. A fire crackled gently in the hearth, as if this was meant to be a warm, intimate night shared between lovers.
It made me sick.
The air smelled of lavender and rose water, too sweet, too delicate for what this night truly was.
I stood in the middle of the room, still in the ceremonial gown, silver embroidery glinting like frost under the light. My hands, folded tightly in front of me, trembled, not from nerves, but from fury. The room had been adorned for the fantasy of a union.
But what we had was anything but.
I am bound, I kept repeating it like a curse.
Bound to Lucian Blackthorn.
The man who would rather bleed than touch me.
The man who looked at me like I was dirt that had stained his boots.
The man whose voice had burned in my ears just hours ago.
"You were never my choice, you are my obligation."
"Like I care." I rolled my eyes as my eyes scanned around the room which clearly belonged to him.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to remain calm as I couldn't afford to lose control.
My eyes drifted down to my right palm.
"The spark." I muttered.
I traced my thumb across the skin where his hand had touched mine during the ceremony. That moment when the bond was sealed had been a violent thing. It wasn't gentle or romantic, it was raw. Shocking, a jolt of pure heat that had crackled through every nerve in my body.
I had masked the reaction well.
No one had seen the way it had hollowed my lungs. The way my knees had threatened to buckle beneath me.
Especially not Lucian.
I stared at the fire, refusing to sit, to lie down, to pretend I was waiting for something.
If he came here expecting to consummate this bond, he'd leave with a broken jaw.
The thought of him touching me turned my stomach.
"He won't dare!"
At once, the door opened.
My spine stiffened.
Lucian entered the room, he didn't pause in the doorway nor look at me. He moved with purpose, his expression carved from stone, emotionless, rigid, and sharp.
He was still in his ceremonial robes, but the collar had been loosened. His hair, always perfectly kept, now fell slightly messier across his brow. He didn't acknowledge me, didn't greet me, or even glance in my direction.
He walked across the room toward the wardrobe, yanked it open, and grabbed something, a folded cloak or tunic, I couldn't tell.
The room was silent but the tension between us wasn't.
My chest burned with the pressure of it. The mate bond buzzed against my skin, unwanted, electric. I hated that I could feel him, hated that my body registered his presence even as my mind rebelled.
He moved to the door, then to my surprise, he stopped.
His hand rested on the handle, but he turned back, finally facing me.
Our eyes locked.
His gaze raked over me, not with desire, or admiration, but with pure, simmering disgust.
"You'll stay here tonight," he said, voice as cold as the northern winds. "But don't mistake that for anything."
I narrowed my eyes.
"By tomorrow, you'll be moved to another room across the west wing, far away from mine."
I raised my chin. "Fine."
"I won't share a roof with you longer than necessary, much less a bed," he added, venom thick in every syllable. "This room is not an invitation, It's a formality."
I stayed silent.
He tilted his head, sneering and I saw an evil gaze flickered in his eyes.
"Or did you think I was going to touch you tonight?"
My blood boiled. "Over my dead body," I snapped.
His jaw flexed.
He turned fully now, stalking a few steps closer, and I refused to back away.
"Careful, rogue," he growled. "You forget who you're speaking to."
"No, you forget who you're bound to," I shot back. "I may wear your name, but I'm not yours."
His eyes burned with something savage, he closed the distance between us in two steps, now close enough that the air shifted between our bodies.
He didn't touch me.
His voice was low and brutal. "I will never claim you."
I stared at him, unmoving.
"Not tonight, not ever. I don't care what prophecy declared nor do I care what flames the bond ignites. I will never take you to my bed."
"Then we're in agreement," I whispered. "You'll never be in it because I don't want it too."
His face darkened.
"You think dressing in silk and washing the dirt off your skin makes you more than what you are?" he spat. "It doesn't, you're still a filthy rogue, amutt the Moon threw at my feet."
Every word landed like a slap, and yet, I didn't flinch.
"You can paint your face and perfume your hair, but underneath all that polish, you reek of what you are, undeserving."
I smiled slowly. "And yet here I am, crowned, bound, and still breathing in your house."
He recoiled like I'd struck him.
"Stay out of my path," he snapped. "Stay out of my sight and prepare yourself for a life of suffering and silence. That's all you'll get from me."
"Good," I said. "Because I wouldn't want a thing from you."
His lips parted like he was going to say more, but he didn't.
He turned on his heel and walked out, he didn't slam the door, he just left, the sound of his footsteps fading into the corridor.
I stood there, fists clenched so tightly I could feel my nails slicing into my skin.
My lip bled where I bit down to silence a scream.
He hated me, and gods, I hated him right back.
*
The next day came swiftly.
A knock on my door came softly just after sunrise.
I was still sitting on the edge of the massive bed I hadn't touched, my ceremonial gown bunched around me like a weight. I hadn't slept, my eyes burned, but no tears had come.
The door creaked open, and three maids entered, their heads bowed respectfully.
"Luna," one said gently. "Your room is ready."
I blinked, slowly lifting my gaze.
"Room?"
"Yes, my Lady," the lead maid replied, her tone carefully neutral. "The Alpha has ordered you to be relocated to private quarters, effective immediately."
Of course he had.
He couldn't stand to even breathe the same air I did longer than necessary.
I rose without a word.
The weight of the gown made it harder than it should have been, but I straightened my spine and met each of their eyes in turn.
"Take me there."
They bowed again and led me down the corridor.
We passed through several hallways, grand, silent, cold. The castle was a marvel of polished obsidian stone and towering stained-glass windows, but it felt like walking through a mausoleum. The further we went, the more it felt like I was being placed out of sight.
Finally, they stopped at a set of silver-trimmed double doors.
One maid stepped forward to open them.
I expected a servant's chamber, something modest and tucked away like a shameful secret, but what I saw was not that.
"Nice." I muttered.
The room was stunning.
Warm golden light spilled across cream-colored walls. A canopy bed carved from rich walnut wood stood in the center, draped in sheer, soft curtains. Silver-framed mirrors reflected the sunlight that poured in from the balcony.
There were bookshelves, a writing desk, and a vanity with crystal perfume bottles. An enormous tub behind a folding screen.
It was everything a Luna would have.
My chest ached with the weight of the contradiction. The beauty of the room did nothing to ease the emptiness inside me. It was a golden cage, designed to pacify, not welcome.
"We'll prepare your bath," the maid offered, eyes downcast.
I nodded. "Thank you, please, make it hot."
She bowed and moved quickly to the bath chamber.
Two others assisted me out of the gown. Their hands were efficient, careful.
They helped me into the bath, and the moment the heat touched my skin, I closed my eyes and let the silence wrap around me like a second body. I soaked until the water went lukewarm, until I felt clean again, not of dirt, but of his words from the night before.
"You'll never have anything else."
"You are a filthy rogue."
After that bath, I stepped out. They dressed me in a pale sapphire gown with a square neckline and fitted sleeves, adorned only with a silver pendant I hadn't asked for, my hair was brushed smooth and left down.
"Is there anything else you require?" the maid asked softly.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my face was composed with my lips painted a soft rose. My eyes… were empty.
"No," I said. "That will be all."
*
The royal dining hall was already full when I arrived.
The doors opened with a groan of polished iron, and immediately, at the sight of me, the air changed. Conversations faltered as heads turned.
I stepped in.
The floor beneath my heels was marble laced with silver veins. The table, an impossibly long stretch of blackwood ran down the center of the room. Chandeliers of glass and moonstone hung from the ceiling, dripping with light. Platters of fruit, bread, and roasted meats lined the table in careful symmetry.
Dozens of eyes followed me as I walked the length of the room.
Some smiled while the others did not bother pretending.
I saw it in the way their gazes narrowed, the way their bodies stiffened. I was being judged by them, not as a Luna, but as an intruder.
Lucian sat at the head of the table.
He didn't even glance up.
I took the seat beside him.
Silence bloomed around me like smoke.
"Luna," a voice cooed a few minutes later.
I turned slightly.
A noblewoman three seats down leaned in with an elegant smile, her jeweled fingers wrapped around a goblet of wine.
"Welcome to the table," she said. "You look breathtaking this morning."
"Thank you," I said coolly.
She smiled wider. "That color suits you, and your hair, it's longer than I realized, such a striking shade, so regal. You carry yourself well."
"I try," I said, offering a closed-lip smile.
"And now that you're bound," she continued with a too-sweet tone, "I suppose we'll be seeing the next heir to Bloodmoon soon enough."
The words hung in the air like smoke before a fire.
My stomach twisted and across the table, I heard a chair scrape back.
Lucian slammed his palm on the table, so loud, rising with a predator's grace.
The entire hall fell into stunned silence.
He stood tall, eyes glowing gold, jaw clenched like stone.
"Don't speak of heirs," he said, voice so cold it made the air in the room thin.
The woman shrank in her chair, stunned.
Lucian turned his gaze on me, full of loathing.
"She will not be bearing mine."
A blade to the throat wouldn't have cut deeper.
The silence was thick and deafening.
I sat frozen, every eye in the room locking onto me like I was something to be pitied… or laughed at.
Lucian continued, slow and venomous. "Don't be deceived by gowns and titles. The Moon may have bound us, but I do not acknowledge her as mine."
He leaned forward slightly, voice low and merciless.
"She may have a seat at my table, but she will never have a place in my bed, or in my name."
That was it, I couldnt take his insults any more.
I stood up, pulling my chair backwards and all eyes looked at me.
I looked at Lucian once, my voice quiet but full of fire.
"Thank you," I said, and without another word, I turned and walked out.
"Coward!" I spat.
The corridor was bright, empty, echoing with every sharp step I took.
I needed to breathe, to be alone and scream my lungs out in fury.
Suddenly, I collided hard into someone just as I turned the corner.
I stumbled back but before I could fall, strong hands caught me, gently.
"I'm so sorry," a deep voice said. "Forgive me, my lady. That was my fault."
I looked up, and stopped breathing for a second.
He was tall, taller than Lucian, with broad shoulders and dark, slightly tousled hair that curled just around the collar of his tunic. His skin was sun-warmed, and his eyes were blue, deep but calm like still water under moonlight.
He didn't wear armor, but he carried strength in his posture.
With his clothing, I knew that he was not a guard, nor a noble, he looked royal.
He helped me to my feet, his hands respectful but steady.
"I didn't see you coming," he said again, his voice gentle but confident. "I hope you're alright."
"I'm fine," I said sharply, pulling away.
He didn't flinch.
"Cassian," he said, placing a fist to his chest. "Lucian's Beta."
I stared at him, not because of the title, but because for the first time since I stepped into this pack, someone wasn't looking at me like I was a stain.
I wasn't sure whether I had met a stranger, or the first person who might actually see me.
"I am Selene."