Elenora
I was staring out the kitchen window, lost in memories I had no business revisiting—memories of a pair of impossibly blue eyes that had once looked at me as if the moon itself had carved me only for him.
Marcello.
Ten years, and still his name could tangle my thoughts like ivy around old stone.
"Mamaaaa!"
The shout sliced straight through the past. I blinked, and instead of the boy I'd known, I found myself staring into the same brilliant shade of blue—only brighter, wilder, full of mischief.
Max.
My son.
My heart.
He bounced in front of me like a caffeinated rabbit, his black curls (Marcello's curls) flying with every leap. "Oma said—Oma said—Aunt Charlotte is coming back today! From the Lycan Elite Academy! And there's gonna be a feast! And—and—" He grabbed my hands dramatically. "A chocolate fountain!"
I couldn't help it—I laughed. Max had inherited many things from his father: the eyes, the hair, the uncanny ability to charm an entire room without trying… and most dangerously of all, the absolute inability to resist chocolate.
I ruffled his curls. "Yes, darling. A chocolate fountain. Try not to bury your entire head in it this time."
"That was one time," he said with great seriousness.
"It was last month."
"And it was worth it," he declared, then ran off to triumphantly announce his future conquest of cocoa to anyone who would listen.
I leaned against the counter, shaking my head fondly—and then my phone buzzed.
A message from Charlotte.
I'm bringing him tonight. Don't tell anyone.
I smiled slowly.
So. The rumors had been true. My baby sister—now a graduate of the Lycan Elite Academy—had found her mate. Her real mate. Chosen by the Moon Goddess herself.
And she was bringing him home.
To meet our family.
A family who did not, under any circumstance, believe in fated mates.A family who valued alliances, lineage, strategy above anything resembling destined love.
My parents—former Alpha and Luna—had chosen each other through arrangement. My brother Edward, now our Alpha, had also accepted a chosen mate. His Luna Elizabeth was strong, elegant, dutiful… but their bond lacked fire. Passion. Soul.
They were a perfect pair.
Just not a love story.
And because of that, none of them would be thrilled—no, that was too gentle—none of them would be remotely prepared for Charlotte walking in with her Moon-appointed soulmate.
I exhaled, feeling a tug in my chest.
This would be an evening to remember.
Max came skidding back into the room, breathless. "Mama! Can I wear my wolf-print shirt? The one with the sparkles?"
I laughed again, softer this time. "Yes, sweetheart. Tonight is going to be… special."
I had barely taken two steps toward the stairs when the unmistakable click of heels echoed through the hallway—sharp, commanding, perfectly timed. My mother never entered a room; she claimed it.
"Elenora."Her voice carried the authority of a Luna who had led for decades. She glided in, posture flawless, silver-gold hair swept back in a style so elegant it could have been carved from marble. With a crisp clap of her hands, the entire atmosphere shifted.
"It's time for you to start getting ready for tonight."
I blinked. "Mutter… it's still hours until dinner."
She ignored that completely—of course she did—and lifted a garment bag with the same reverence a priestess might give a holy relic.
"I've brought you a selection of dresses."Her tone implied that she expected gratitude. Or at least awe.
I sighed. "I can choose my clothes myself, you know."
She raised one perfectly shaped brow, the kind that had once made grown warriors reconsider their life choices. "Elenora, we will have guests. Important ones. There will be eligible Alphas and Betas in attendance."
Ah. There it was.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice into the you will not argue with me register."So choose a dress. Tonight, you will be seen."
With a practiced flourish she held up two gowns. One shimmered in deep royal blue—classic, dignified. The other was a rich jade green, soft and flowing, catching the light like the surface of an enchanted lake.
I instantly knew.
The green one.
Not because of the guests.Not because my mother wanted to parade me like a prize mare.
But because it brought out my eyes—my true mother-given weapon—and if I had to endure a feast full of judgment and prying looks, I might as well feel like myself doing it.
"I'll wear the jade dress," I said.
A brief glimmer of approval flickered across my mother's expression—so fleeting I might've imagined it. She nodded once, curt and satisfied.
"Good. Be ready on time."
And just like that, she turned and swept from the room, leaving the faint scent of roses and command in her wake.
Sometimes I wondered if my mother ever truly saw me—or only the future she still stubbornly believed I should have had.
Even after everything… after the scandal, the whispers, the looks that followed me through every corridor of our territory. After my fall from the glittering pedestal she had built for me. A fifteen-year-old Luna's daughter, pregnant. A sixteen-year-old mother. A walking reminder of everything she considered a wasted destiny.
And yet, she had never given up.
Not on me—no, never that.But on marrying me off.
It was almost admirable, in a tragic, exhausting sort of way. Her relentless hope that some Alpha or Beta would look past the shadows of my past and see something worthy. That one day I would be folded neatly back into the world she had dreamed for me.
Sometimes I wished she would stop.
Because every time she pushed another dress into my hands, every time she spoke of suitable matches and proper futures, it reminded me that in her eyes, I was still something broken she intended to fix.
Even if she didn't understand that I wasn't broken at all.I had Max.And he was the part of my life I would never change—not even for the clean, shining future she once planned for me
I exhaled, staring at the green gown.
Tonight was going to be a storm.
And I would meet it dressed in jade.