Chapter 9

Elora’s POV

I didn’t really stop running until the castle was just a smear, trees slapping my arms, breath tearing hot from my chest. Tears streaked down my face. They stung in the cold, and I let them. If they left marks, good. Sometimes you want the pain to bite.

Dante’s damn voice was still stuck in the back of my head. You’ll still be mine. I wanted to rip out whatever bond joined us. Would have gone at my own ribcage if that had helped. Instead, I just collapsed against a huge tree, forehead digging into scratchy bark. My wolf howled inside, half-crazy from rejection that never finished breaking. Just the constant pain in my head.

I stayed there until the sun came clawing up. Legs and fingers numb, body aching all over. Eventually, the universe stopped caring about my pity party and shoved me back towards the damn castle, towards the job I hated, the mask I had to wear.

Fine. If I couldn’t break the bond, I would bury it where no one could dig it up.

Morning came, whether I wanted it or not. I braided my hair like nothing happened, wrapped myself in the Luna cloak, a deep blue dress that made me look more like a ghost than royalty. I stared at myself in the mirror. Hollow eyes, set jaw.

I walked into the council hall. Elders actually stood up, which never happens unless they see a ghost. Well, maybe they did. Dominic? Nowhere. Probably off having some alone time with Mira. His empty chair was somehow even colder than his absence. Spite kept me upright. If he wouldn’t stand next to me, I would stand alone.

Their mumbling started up. Same old complaints, land and territory, and omegas working themselves ragged. Usually, Dominic acted like he couldn’t hear it. And I would vanish into the wallpaper. 

Not today.

“I’ll hear everyone.” I yanked his chair out, sat like I owned it. The voice didn’t even wobble. “One by one.”

The first elder piped up, all, “Luna, with respect, the Alpha...”

“He’s not here.” Locked eyes with the old man and didn’t blink. “So, deal with me.”

With the authority my voice carried, it wasn't a shock that they actually obliged.

I sat there for hours. Let them vent. I didn't pretend to know everything, but at least I listened, and that counted, turns out. Sorted out patrols, shook up kitchen shifts so maybe the omegas could actually sleep sometime, promised to go check granaries they swore were being raided by ghosts.

Nothing flashy. No magic solution, just... work. By the time I stood, the room felt different. A little lighter. This time, the elders bowed and I didn’t feel like a coat rack.

Weeks passed in a blur, and I lost myself in the duty of a Luna. As it turned out, it wasn't an easy task. 

Hit the kitchens, plopped down next to tired omegas, let them talk my ear off. Helped patch up some busted oven no one had looked at in months. Showed up at training fields, shoved water into the hands of warriors about to eat dirt, leaned over to fix their useless formations. Tiny stuff. Doesn’t sound heroic, but it was duty.

When fights flared, I stood in the middle until people remembered they had brains. When the healer needed something, I was digging in the weeds for herbs, no gloves on.

And... people started seeing me. Not as Dominic’s shadow. Not that woman chained to some frosty marriage. Just...me.

Omega kids started calling me ‘Luna Elora’ in the courtyard, tugging my cloak, grinning like fools. Used to make me cringe inside, but now, it burned. But not like it used to. More like, belonging, maybe. Or at least the start of it.

After a nonstop day of squabbling and hustling to get everything ready for the harvest festival, I wound up in the great hall with a scatter of flour all over my hands. I had been roped into kneading dough with the maids…Like I was any good at that. My cheeks were sore from fake-grinning for hours. There was this moment, one of the younger omegas, nervous as anything, tapped my shoulder and offered me a ribbon. “You make the work lighter,” she whispered, all bashful. And honestly? That hit harder than any rejection. I barely managed a thank you and ducked out before I started bawling in front of everyone.

    Every night, once the whole castle slipped into that weird echoey hush, the bond yanked at me. Sharp, relentless, impossible to ignore. Dante’s incomplete rejection just twisted the blade. And Dominic? He wasn’t even there to haunt me; somehow, that made me feel better. I would lie in this absurdly big bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking. How can someone feel so strong and so thoroughly unwanted at the same time?

Festival day exploded. Color everywhere, music, the works.

I stood up high on that stage, pretending to be regal or whatever. Lanterns flickering gold, packmates laughing and pounding on drums. For five seconds, I felt something solid, like maybe I could be proud. Then, suddenly, these wolf pups catch me off-guard, yanking me into their spinning, shrieking dance. I twirled along, skirts flying, my wolf inside me almost... happy. 

Almost.

And of course, that’s when I saw him. Because fate loves to be cruel. Dante. Leaning against a shadowy pillar, all brooding and silent, his eyes never leaving me, staring like I was the climax of some story he couldn’t rewrite.

I nearly tripped. My heart went weird and heavy. I tried to spin along with the kids, laugh louder, anything to fake it. Like if I didn’t give in to that hot, unbearable gaze, it couldn’t break me open.

Couldn’t let it. Not tonight.

Hours later, smoke rising from empty plates, the party winding down, a pack elder came up. He bowed, all poetic and respectful. 

“Luna Elora. The pack thrives because of you. You honor us.” 

I smiled at him, nodded like I should have beamed, but inside? It felt like his words scraped right across my nerves.

They respected me, but I wished things didn't have to turn out this way and Dante had loved me then. 

So, the moon sailed higher, drums faded, and I played my part, smile, bow, swallow the ache like a bitter drink.

If Dominic won’t see my worth, then fine. The pack will.

If Dante can’t let me go, I’ll bury his memory under duty and protocol.

And if my wolf, the wild, aching thing inside me, wants to howl at the walls, I’ll keep her locked up tight.

Because I’m Luna.

But I stared at Dante again, but this time, my heart raced and I knew I wanted him