The Nameless Luna

The music stops when someone screams.

The pack gathered for the mating ceremony between the Alpha’s son and his new bride, and my Uncle Viktor actually allowed me to attend. Our Alpha is by no means a generous man, and I am usually excluded from these kinds of events.

Of course, I am only present at the celebration to serve. It is my job to clean up after my cousin, and to make sure everything is perfect for his special day. Uncle Viktor has taken every possible opportunity to remind me that my presence will only be tolerated so long as I make myself useful.

It does not matter that I am the Alpha’s niece; I am an orphan, an unwanted pup that my pack has been saddled with. A servant. A burden. A prisoner.

On the day of my cousin’s mating ceremony, I would not partake in the celebration. I'd keep my head down, my hands busy, and my mouth shut. At least, that was the plan; then again, I wasn’t counting on a stranger making such a dramatic entrance, causing my cousin’s blushing new bride to scream melodramatically in surprise as the music came to an abrupt stop.

“Who is that?” someone else asks as a hush falls over the gathered crowd.

I’m off to the side, cleaning up the shattered pieces of a champagne glass that another wolf knocked over in the startled commotion. From where I’m crouched on the ground, I can’t see whose arrival caused such a stir.

“The exiled Alpha,” another voice replies. “He’s the leader of the rogue pack.”

I can only make out bits and pieces of the conversation, but I know enough. Whatever is going on, I don’t want to get involved.

“What is he doing here?”

Whoever the stranger is, he’s obviously not on the guest list. I don’t know why he’s here or what his presence might imply for the Bane pack. I’m just happy to be out of the dreary cellar that’s considered my room. When I’m not slaving away, they keep me locked down there, out of sight and out of mind. I’m the runt of the pack, after all, an embarrassment. The mutt. I've never even manifested a wolf.

“Tristan Lyall.” My uncle’s voice cuts through the whispers in the crowd, and I flinch at the sound. Everyone falls silent, and I can hear his footsteps somewhere ahead of me. “This is quite a surprise. We were not expecting you.”

No shit, Sherlock. The band just stands there with their instruments in their hands. People shuffle around and whisper anxiously. I keep my eyes on the ground, picking up another shard of glass.

“Apologies for the intrusion.” The voice is deep and commanding, but significantly younger than my uncle’s. Even before I lay my eyes on him, something stirs within me at the sound of that voice.

“What do you want with the Bane pack? You have no business in our territory,” Viktor says, and I clench my eyes shut at the threat behind his words.

I have to tell myself over and over that I’m not the one he’s angry at. Not today. I haven’t done anything wrong, but fearing him is a reflex without reason. It’s an instinct that’s been beaten into me over the years, both literally and metaphorically.

“Is that any way to treat a fellow Alpha?” the stranger replies, sounding amused and unbothered. I’ve never heard someone address my uncle that way. His tone is so casual, almost teasing.

“Why are you here?” my uncle asks again, more insistently this time.

“I’ve come for my mate.”

A murmur spreads across the gathered pack as wolves gasp and talk amongst themselves, but I simply let out a soft breath.

Is it stupid of me to feel relieved at that moment? I assume that whatever is going on between my uncle and the other Alpha has nothing to do with me. For this one night, Viktor will have bigger problems to deal with. Perhaps everyone is so distracted with the celebration and preoccupied with the stranger that I will be spared any further abuse for the evening. All I really want is to be invisible. Everyone looks at me with such scorn and disgust that the idea of disappearing, even for a little while, would be a relief. I have such simple wishes: warm food, a soft bed, a quiet night without labor or mockery…

A sweet little fool with sweet little foolish dreams.

“What are you talking about? If you wish to find a mate, perhaps you should look within your own pack. Surely you can find a decent enough she-wolf among your rogues and mutts.”

I don’t see the look they exchange, but even from where I’m kneeling on the floor, I can feel the tension that suddenly sweeps across the courtyard. It’s like the stranger’s imposing presence extends beyond himself, his power hanging in the air like a mist that curls its fingers around each and every wolf gathered here.

“Careful, Viktor,” is all he says, and my uncle does not reply. “A Seer in my pack had a vision of my fated mate among your pack. I’m as unhappy with this as you are, but to deny her from me is to deny the will of Selene. If you refuse me, you will not just be making an enemy out of me and my pack but of the Moon Goddess herself.”

My uncle Viktor knows no law but his own. He honors the Goddess so long as it is convenient for him. But will he really risk waging war against another pack over one man’s mate?

I suppose that depends on the mate, doesn’t it?

“And you expect to believe the word of some supposed Seer? I will not hand over one of my wolves to the king of outcasts just because one of his rogues said it was destiny.”

“There has been enough conflict between our packs, Viktor. I am offering you a chance to secure peace between our territories. All you have to do is give me the girl with violet eyes.”

And there it is.

Just like that, my false sense of security is shattered. I'd let myself believe that the discussion between the two Alphas was something so far above me that it would not affect me, that I could not possibly be involved.

I am the bastard daughter of the Alpha’s disgraced sister. My mother went mad and left me with nothing before she died. All I have in this world are the scraps of mercy my uncle has tossed at me. I have no father, no wolf, no name..

In fact, the only thing that seems to be uniquely mine is the very feature that cemented me as the pack freak. It’s a bizarre mutation that sets me apart from the rest and makes it impossible to forget that I am defective and unworthy of the space I take up.

The violet shade of my eyes.

There is a moment of strained silence across the vast courtyard outside the main pack house. Silvery ribbons flutter and balloons bob in the soft breeze, but the decorations for the party seem silly and out of place in the tension that hangs in the air.

Then my uncle’s booming laughter cuts through the quiet like a knife sliding through butter, and a chill runs down my spine at the malicious mirth.

I realize at that moment just how fragile my illusion of safety was.

I duck my head down, sandy blonde hair cascading around my face like a curtain, as I wish that I could make myself small enough to vanish entirely.

“You want to mate with the violet-eyed mutant mongrel? Be my guest, your majesty,” my uncle says, his words dripping with disdain.

There is some movement somewhere toward the center of the courtyard that I can’t make out, and I have the good sense to snap into action, rising to my feet, ready to make a run for it. Of course, I don’t actually have anywhere to run to. I have no plan, no chance of even making it out of the courtyard unseen. I’ve been a prisoner of my own pack my entire life, and frankly, my odds of escaping my sorry fate have never been worse.

But a frightened animal acts on instinct, not logic. I’m aware enough of my place in the world to be terrified. So I tighten my grip on the glass in my hand, fingers curling around the stem of the champagne flute so the jagged edge faces away from me like a makeshift little dagger.

“Oscar,” Viktor says, calling out to his son. I stiffen as my cousin moves through the crowd. “The rogue Alpha has come to claim his bride. Let’s not keep our guest waiting. Get the girl.”

In Viktor’s eyes, handing me over like a prize bride is probably more of an insult than a peace offering. If the stranger had named any other she-wolf in the pack, my uncle would have probably lunged at the other Alpha, putting an abrupt end to any celebration and plunging the two territories into war in a matter of minutes. But Viktor has been looking for an excuse to be rid of me for years, and I know full well that he will not hesitate to throw me at the mercy of the so-called King of Outcasts.

No one will speak for me. No one will defend me or question our Alpha’s choice to hand me over to a rival pack like little more than a lowly broodmare.

The crowd shuffles around, making way for the Alpha’s son as he elbows his way past them and straight for me. My heart pounds in my chest when my cousin spots me, his eyes locking in on mine.

“You heard him, girl,” he says, and my skin crawls the steel in his voice. My cousin’s eyes flicker to the makeshift weapon in my hand, and he chuckles. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”

He’s never seen me defend myself before. Desperate times call for desperate measures. My hand trembles, but I muster up enough self-preservation to feel almost brave, and I hold my ground. “Please, Oscar,” I plead, my soft, high-pitched voice sounding unexpectedly steady. “I don’t want any trouble. Just let me go back to my room. I won’t bother anyone, I swear.”

“Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter what you want. You’ve already caused more trouble than you’re worth. The rogue Alpha has come to take you off our hands,” he says, walking calmly toward me.

My cousin is significantly larger than me, as are most members of the pack. At five foot three, I’m not that much shorter than most females my age, but everything about my build is small. Hunger has made me even thinner than my already petite frame, my skin pale from spending so much time locked away in the cellar underground.

I’m easy prey, and we both know it. I always have been.

“I’m not his mate,” I insist, and I truly believe it. Because really, how can I be? I don’t even have a wolf.

“Hurry up, son,” my uncle calls out from behind the gathered audience. “Let’s get this over and done with so we can get back to the celebration.”

I’m just an inconvenience, something that needs to be disposed of so they can go on enjoying themselves. If my own kin treats me with such scorn and cruelty, what sort of fate might await me at the hands of a rogue Alpha?

I take an unsteady step back, brandishing the broken glass like a knife. My cousin only sneers in amusement.

“Put that down before you hurt yourself, girl,” he says, reaching out to grab my arm and yanking me toward the center of the courtyard, where I still cannot see the stranger and my uncle. “Your new master is waiting.”

“No!” I hiss, thrashing against my cousin as his hands curl around my other wrist in a shockingly tight grip. He growls as he drags me toward the others, baring his teeth. I slash at him blindly with the glass before he grabs my other hand, twisting my wrist at an unnatural angle. I wince from the pain as my fingers sprawl involuntarily under his grasp, and my sad little glass weapon falls to the ground.

Before forcing me to drop the glass, it sliced my cousin just above his eye, leaving a thin slash of red across his brow.

“I’m sorry,” I gasp, staring up at him with horror. The tiny trickle of blood will not go unpunished, and I feel like an utter fool as I realize precisely what I’ve done. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

I thought things were bad before, but now…

He curses before I can finish mustering up an apology. “You’ll pay for that.”

I have no doubt that I will, and I shut my eyes to brace myself from the blow as he pulls his hand back to hit me in retaliation.

But the blow never comes. Finally, after a few breathless seconds of anticipation, I dare to open my eyes. Oscar’s hand is poised to strike, but someone else has grabbed his forearm, restraining him before he can land the blow.

I tear my gaze away from my cousin to look at the stranger who came to my rescue: my uncle’s rival, the rogue Alpha, exiled King of Outcasts and lone wolves.

My mate.