Novels by Aki NoHyo

“Nara,” she breathes softly, her voice carefully modulated with sweetness. “I was wondering where you'd disappeared to.”“Rosalina,” I reply, my voice cool, carefully controlled. My gaze sharpens, openly unwelcoming.She comes closer, pausing just a little way from me, tilting her head innocently. “I couldn’t help but notice you've been quite busy tonight. Dancing, whispering into ears…making friends.” Her eyes, wide and falsely curious, watch me closely. "I hope you've enjoyed yourself."“It's called socializing,” I reply evenly. “I'm sure you're familiar with the concept.”Rosalina’s mouth curves into a gentle, amused smile, her eyes briefly sharpening with something darker. &ldq

Dorothee throws open the doors before Rosalina can muster a reply.The crowd surges in, a river of silk, velvet, and jewels. Every guest seems determined to outshine the others, draped in fabrics so rich and frivolous they might as well bleed gold. This celebration isn’t just tradition—it’s a parade of strength. A reminder to every ally and rival that the Moonlit Pack lacks nothing.I spot her almost immediately—an aging Luna with two massive Irish Wolfhounds at her heels, sweeping through the hall like a queen, her Alpha a step behind her. His roguish smirk isn’t for the crowd. It’s for her. His gaze rakes her body with unrepentant hunger, as if she’s still the girl he first claimed under a harvest moon.Emily and Kylean Silver Moon.My mother's old leaders.

After my confrontation with Lucian, the days blur, slipping through my fingers like water. The Eclipse celebration looms ahead, and with it, the unraveling of everything I once called mine.Both of my mates are wrapped around Rosalina like silk—adoring, attentive, perfect. They argue over dresses and stylists, over whether her curls should fall loose or be pinned in a crown. She’s pampered like the heroine of some saccharine fairytale, a beloved Luna in waiting. I try not to see it. I focus on what I can control.The preparations keep me grounded. Speeches to draft, guests to charm, gifts to prepare. Each detail is a shield against the slow bleeding of my heart. I cling to the illusion of influence—because while the pack still sees me as Luna, their respect isn’t deep enough to shelter me. Not when the bond they worship pulls in another direction.

The day after Damian promised Rosalina a place at their side for the Eclipse Celebration, Lucian bursts into my study. It’s late morning; golden sunlight spills through the wall-length windows, the curtains gently lifting in the soft breeze, tangling lazily with strands of my dark hair. I raise an inquisitive eyebrow at his sudden intrusion.“I know you certainly won’t believe me, but I did everything I could to convince Damian to leave Rosalina out of this.”His voice is steady, controlled, though underlined with faint frustration. He's slightly disheveled, a rare sight for Lucian, but his posture remains commanding, as if determined to maintain his usual air of control.I offer a careless shrug, painting my lips into a gentle, unbothered smile.“It’s fine. Rosalina might as well experience everything she can while she's here. It's only natural for Damian to want his fated mate around.”I let the subtle implication linger—that Lucian should want the same. His jaw tightens slightly, b

As soon as I begin preparing for the Eclipse Celebration, time blurs.Days bleed into nights, and nights into lists—guests, menus, musicians, centerpieces. I throw myself into it like it’s the only thing tethering me to sanity. Maybe it is.I don’t notice Rosalina’s creeping influence right away. I’m too focused on choosing whether to go with ivory or cream tablecloths, which string quartet to hire, which floral arrangements say diplomatic strength rather than sappy Luna nostalgia. Dorothee is a godsend—offering her opinions with the perfect balance of taste and sarcasm, flitting between floral palettes and security strategies like it’s all the same

I unfold the couch in my office, pulling the mattress into place under Lucian’s watchful eye.“See?” I say softly. “I’ll be just as comfortable here as I was in my room.”He frowns, arms crossed.“You’d be entitled to fight this, you know?”I tilt my head to the side, only half pretending. What is it with Lucian lately? It’s like he’s rewriting the script of our past—not enough to change the ending, but enough to throw me off balance.“I don’t intend to fight fate,” I answer, voice even. “After all, you wouldn’t ask if it weren’t absolutely necessary.”He nods.