MasukFor centuries, every Luna has been expected to embody strength, fertility, and power. Curves are considered a blessing from the Moon Goddess. A thin woman? She’s believed to be weak, barren, and cursed. When eighteen-year-old Lyra Vale presents herself at the Moon Ceremony, whispers ripple through the crowd. “She looks like she’d snap in half.” “She’s too skinny to carry an Alpha’s heirs.” “The Moon Goddess would never choose someone like her.” Then fate shocks everyone. The Moon Goddess names Lyra as Alpha Draven’s mate. Instead of accepting her… He rejects her before the entire pack. “I refuse to make a skeleton my Luna.” The rejection awakens an ancient prophecy. Unknown to everyone, Lyra’s frail body isn’t a weakness. It’s a prison. Her body has spent years suppressing a dangerous celestial power that would have destroyed her if it had awakened too soon. The moment Draven rejects her… The seal breaks. Her wolf roars for the first time. And the Moon Goddess declares… “You rejected your Luna… but the world has just lost its Alpha.” Now every Lycan King wants her. Every Alpha fears her. And the man who humiliated her must watch another ruler kneel before the woman he called too skinny.
Lihat lebih banyakLyra's POV
Someone snickers behind me. "Is that her?" Another voice, louder this time. "She's supposed to become somebody's Luna? She can't even fill out her ceremony dress." Laughter ripples through the crowd like wildfire catching dry grass. I clutch the silver fabric tighter around my ribs, wishing it would just... swallow me whole. Tonight is Mate Ceremony. The night every unmated she-wolf in the pack has dreamed about since she was old enough to shift. For me, it's the night everyone showed up just to watch me lose. "Look at her arms," someone whispers. Not even quietly. "How's she supposed to survive a birth, let alone a heat?" An older woman near the front asks, shaking her head like I'm a stray dog that wandered into a wedding. "Poor thing. No wolf in her right mind will accept that." A little girl, maybe six, imitates my walk behind her mother's skirt — shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around herself. Her mother laughs and doesn't correct her. I keep my chin up. I've had years of practice pretending I don't hear. I do hear. Every word. The moonlit courtyard is packed wall to wall, unmated wolves in their ceremony best, waiting for the Moon Priestess to call the names. Somewhere in this crowd is the boy who'll be my mate — chosen by fate, sealed by the bond, no say in the matter for either of us. I used to think that was romantic. Tonight it just feels like a countdown to humiliation. The Moon Priestess climbs the stone steps at the center of the courtyard, staff in hand, silver robes catching the moonlight. The chatter dies to a hush. Then a new sound ripples through the crowd — not laughter this time. Something closer to a held breath. "He's here." I don't need to ask who. Alpha Draven walks in like the ground owes him something. Broad-shouldered, dark-haired, eyes the color of a storm that hasn't decided whether to break yet. Every wolf in the courtyard turns to watch him cross to the front — Betas straightening, Omegas ducking their heads, girls twice my size sucking in their stomachs like it might matter. He doesn't look at any of them. He looks at me. I don't know why. I don't know how. But for one impossible second, across an entire courtyard full of people who'd rather I disappear, his eyes land on mine and he doesn't look away. Neither do I. Something low in my chest turns over, warm and terrifying, like my wolf just woke up and started pacing. Someone clears their throat behind me. I break the stare first, heart slamming so hard I'm sure the wolf beside me can hear it. That can't have meant anything. Alphas like him don't look at girls like me. Not really. The Moon Priestess raises her staff, and the whole courtyard falls silent, three hundred wolves holding their breath at once. "Tonight," she says, voice carrying without effort, "the Moon Goddess speaks." A murmur. A shuffle of feet. Somewhere behind me, a girl grips her friend's arm so hard I hear the fabric strain. "The Moon Goddess has chosen..." The staff swings. Points. Straight at me. "...YOU."Lyra's POV The howl is still echoing off the tree line when the sky changes. It isn't dramatic at first — just a shift in the light, the sun somehow dimming despite sitting high and clear overhead, replaced by something colder and silver, as if the moon itself has decided daylight no longer applies here. The crowd, already reeling from Kaelan's howl, goes utterly still. Then the voice comes. It doesn't arrive the way a normal voice does — not carried on air, not requiring ears to hear it. It simply is, inside every skull at once, ancient and warm and impossibly vast, the same presence that spoke through the hospital room walls days ago. "YOU FINALLY ARE FREE, AFTER THREE CENTURIES OF BONDAGE AND IMMORTALITY." Every wolf on that field drops. Not gradually. Not reluctantly. In a single motion, three hundred wolves fold to their knees at once, foreheads bowed to the dirt, and even the Elders — proud, ancient men who kept their composure — press their palms flat against the earth l
Lyra's POVHe kneels, and something happens that I don't have words for.A shudder runs through him — visible, physical, starting at his shoulders and rolling downward like a wave breaking against rock. The half-shifted form he wore across the field cracks apart at the seams, fur and shadow peeling away in a single motion too fast to fully track, and what's left kneeling in front of me is simply... a man.Not simply. Nothing about him is simple.The crowd's silence deepens into something almost reverent. I hear it — a collective breath drawn in and held, three hundred wolves forgetting how to exhale at once.He's beautiful in a way that doesn't feel real. Dark hair falls loose across a brow no longer creased with the effort of holding a half-shift; his jaw, softened now from stone into something almost human, is still sharp enough to cut. Broad shoulders, a scar tracing one collarbone like a story no one's been brave enough to ask about. When he lifts his face to look up at me properl
Lyra's POVBy the time the horns sound, the entire pack has gathered at the outer wall.Nobody ordered it. Nobody needed to. Word travels faster than any messenger when the ground itself is shaking, and by midday every wolf in Blackmoor territory — warriors, healers, children pulled from their lessons, Elders in their formal robes — stands crowded along the wall and the open field beyond it, waiting.I'm placed near the front. Not by choice. The Priestess appeared at my door an hour ago, wordless, and simply took my arm, and I didn't have the will to argue with the look on her face.Draven stands several feet to my left, flanked by his Betas, dressed in the dark ceremonial colors I haven't seen him wear since the night of my rejection. He hasn't spoken to me since the corridor this morning. I haven't tried to make him.The tremors have grown steady now — no longer isolated shudders, but a rhythm, patient and unhurried, each footfall closer than the last. Somewhere in the crowd, a chi
Lyra's POVThe room is too big.That's the first thing I notice when I wake — not the softness of the mattress, though it's softer than anything I've slept on in my life, and not the morning light spilling gold across a floor of polished wood instead of the hospital wing's cold stone. It's the size of it. An entire wing, apparently, cleared and given to me, as if three days ago I wasn't the girl nobody wanted and now I need enough space for a small army.Nobody explains the change. A maid simply appeared yesterday evening with an armful of clean linens, informed me my things had already been moved, and left before I could ask why.I don't need to ask, not really. I know exactly why.I sit up slowly, testing the ache still lingering behind my ribs, and catch sight of my own reflection in the standing mirror across the room. The mark on my arm has faded almost to nothing in daylight — you'd have to know exactly where to look to find it now. I still look like me. Thin. Tired. Not like












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