LUNA OF ASHES [THE MOON GODDESS RISES AGAIN]

Katherine Ashford

“Luna Katherine… praise be to the Moon Goddess — you’re pregnant!”

The words fell like sunlight through storm clouds.

For a moment, I thought I’d misheard her.

The healer’s smile trembled as she bowed, silver bangles chiming softly. “It’s true, my Luna. The test confirms it. You’re with child.”

For five long years, I had prayed beneath every full moon, whispered my wishes to the stars, and watched them die quietly at dawn. Five years of silence in our chambers. Five years of wondering if the goddess had turned her face away from me.

Now — life.

My knees gave out before I could stop them. I pressed a trembling palm to my stomach, a laugh breaking through the tears that rushed to my throat. “The goddess… she heard me.”

The healer hurried to steady me, her tone tender but firm. “Easy, Luna. You mustn’t strain yourself. The first moons are fragile. Rest, eat well, and avoid the training grounds. The Alpha will be overjoyed.”

Her words should have filled me with peace. Instead, something heavy pressed behind my ribs — the thought of Dominic.

He’d been distant for weeks. The council meetings ran late, the patrols longer. When he returned to our chambers, he carried the scent of smoke, exhaustion… and something I couldn’t name.

Still, I smiled. He’ll be happy. He has to be.

I imagined his face when I told him — those cold silver eyes softening, his hand trembling as it brushed over the small life beneath my ribs. For once, Dominic would be speechless.

“Here are your tonics and meal plans, my queen,” the healer murmured, placing parchment scrolls and glass vials into my hands. “Don’t forget to rest, Luna. The goddess blesses mothers who guard their hearts.”

I thanked her, clutching the bundle to my chest. Only one thought pulsed through me: If only Dominic had come with me today… My happiness would have been complete.

As I stepped out into the corridor, the morning light poured through the high windows of the Crescent Peak fortress. My gaze drifted to the training field below — the same place where, years ago, I had first seen him.

He wasn’t an Alpha then. Not even a warrior. Just another Omega, sweat-drenched and exhausted, hauling lumber beneath the cruel sun while the high borns watched from the towers.

I had followed my parents that day, curious to see the laborers. They had always said I was too soft-hearted for a Luna, too curious for a princess of the Silvermoon line.

And perhaps they were right. Because when I saw him — that defiant boy with dust in his hair and fire in his eyes — something in me broke open.

Later, when I approached him, he’d looked at me as if I were a goddess fallen from the moon itself.

“Can you buy me?” he’d asked, half-joking, half-bitter.

And I, foolishly, had smiled.

“I can’t buy a man,” I told him, “but I can give him a reason to never be bought again.”

I was sixteen. Naive. Believing kindness could change bloodlines.

From that day on, I gave him everything. I paid his school fees, sent monthly allowances, secured his parents jobs in my family’s service. Every victory of his was paid for in my loyalty — and every mistake, I covered with my name.

By the time we turned twenty-one, he was no longer the poor Omega boy. He was my equal in status, my husband by sacred rite.

My parents disapproved. The council murmured. But I was in love — madly, irrevocably, blindly.

And now, five years later, as I stood holding the proof of our first child, I told myself that love had been worth every scar.

The drive back to the pack house felt endless — a blur of sunlight and shadows streaking across the windshield. My heart was still fluttering, every thought wrapped around one thing: Dominic will finally smile again.

He was standing near the training grounds when I arrived, speaking with his Beta. His expression was hard, focused — the same one he wore during council debates. But when he saw me, his gaze softened just enough to let me breathe.

“Dominic,” I said, stepping closer, clutching the small vial the healer had given me. “I have something to tell you—”

He cut me off with a kiss, brief and distracted. “Not now, love. I have something more important. Come — sign these papers first.”

I frowned. “Papers? What are they for?”

“Just routine matters. Pack finances. We’ll talk about whatever it is you wanted to say later, alright?” He smiled faintly — but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It can’t be that important.”

The words struck like ice. Our baby isn’t important?

But he was watching me expectantly, pen already in hand. And like a fool, I signed.

He pressed another kiss to my temple. “Good girl. Now — I have a surprise for you.”

My heart leapt. “A surprise? Really? Then I have one too!”

He chuckled, already turning away. “Later, Katherine. For now, go rest. You’ll need your strength.”

He called out, “Seraphina — take Luna Katherine to her chambers.

Make sure she takes her tonics.”

Seraphina bowed politely, her eyes bright with something I couldn’t place. “Of course, Alpha.”

As we climbed the stairs, she hummed softly — a tune I’d never heard before. “You seem cheerful today,” I said, smiling despite myself.

Her cheeks flushed. “I have a surprise too, my Luna.”

“Oh? And what kind of surprise is that?”

She laughed lightly. “Let’s just say… I’m with someone’s husband.”

I froze. “Seraphina, that’s not something to boast about. You’re breaking someone’s heart.”

She only smiled. “He says his wife already broke his first.”

The words stung, though I couldn’t explain why.

Later that evening, I lay resting in bed when my phone rang. Dominic’s name flashed across the screen. I smiled, answering quickly.

“Darling,” he said, his tone rich and smooth through the speaker. “Turn on the TV. I have a surprise for you.”

I did.

And my world ended.

On the screen stood Dominic — my husband — arm wrapped around Seraphina. They looked radiant together, like a mated pair before the entire pack.

My breath caught. “Dominic? What… what is this?”

His voice echoed through the broadcast, cold and clear. “Today, I reveal the truth. The Luna of Crescent Peak — my wife — has deceived us all.”

The room spun.

He went on, presenting falsified images, forged documents, staged recordings — all showing me as a traitor. Plots against the elders. Deals with rogues. Even accusations that I’d tried to poison him.

None of it was real. Yet every word was poison.

“If you’re watching this, Katherine,” he said, eyes glittering through the screen, “look to your right. There’s a box beside you.”

I turned slowly. A black box sat on the nightstand — one I hadn’t noticed before. My hands trembled as I opened it.

Inside, neatly folded, was a single document.

A divorce decree.