Luna's Last Oath

The forest smelled of rain.

Nicole stood at the edge of the pack’s territory, boots sinking slightly into the damp earth, her eyes fixed on the winding dirt road that disappeared into the trees. Beyond that road lay the world she’d never seen — the same road Brian had vanished down three years ago, promising to come back stronger, promising he would always love her.

She remembered the way he’d cupped her face that night.

"Three years, my Luna," he’d whispered. "When I return, it’ll be with everything our pack needs. You’ll be proud of me."

Nicole had been proud. Proud enough to take every whispered doubt in stride, to silence every wolf who thought he’d abandoned them. Proud enough to shoulder the burdens of leadership alone, to heal the sick, break up disputes, keep the borders safe from rogues. Proud enough to stand here now, rain misting over her, because this was the day she got him back.

Her heart pounded at the faint sound of hooves.

Two warriors at her side shifted restlessly, their ears twitching at the sound. Behind them, the gathered pack murmured in anticipation. Mothers held children aloft, elders leaned on walking sticks, and a few wolves padded back and forth in their shifted forms. The whole Crescent Fang pack was here to welcome their Alpha home.

Nicole pressed her hands together to still their trembling. It wasn’t just relief swelling inside her. It was hope. Three years without his warmth, his voice, his steady hand in hers — all of it would finally end. She had so much to tell him. How the river had flooded last spring. How she’d mediated a dispute with the neighboring pack without bloodshed. How the youngest warriors had trained so hard they could outrun half the border patrol.

The rhythmic thud of hooves grew louder. A dark shape appeared on the road, emerging from the mist like a ghost.

Brian.

He was astride a tall black stallion, his broad shoulders wrapped in a weathered leather cloak, his jaw shadowed with stubble. His presence was the same — commanding, magnetic — and her heart leapt into her throat.

Until she saw the woman riding beside him.

She was beautiful in a way that seemed… untouchable. Her hair fell in a cascade of golden waves, her skin fair and flawless, and her amber eyes seemed to glow faintly even in the gray light. She sat astride her horse with regal ease, her posture straight, chin lifted, as if she had already claimed the right to be here.

Brian dismounted first. His boots hit the earth with a heavy thud. For a moment, his eyes found Nicole’s — and her breath caught at the flicker of warmth there. He walked toward her, pulling the stranger along by the hand.

“Nicole.” His voice was deep, familiar, and yet something in it was different. “I want you to meet someone.”

She blinked, her pulse drumming in her ears.

“This is Aria,” he continued, glancing at the woman beside him with something dangerously close to reverence. “She’s… my fated mate.”

The words landed like a blade to the gut.

For a heartbeat, Nicole forgot how to breathe. The rain seemed to fall heavier, a cold weight against her skin. Around them, the pack murmured — some in surprise, others in approval. Nicole caught a few smiles aimed at Aria. The stranger bowed her head in polite greeting, though her lips curved in a small, knowing smile.

Brian’s grip on Aria’s hand didn’t loosen.

“Nothing between us has to change,” he said, his eyes locked on Nicole’s as if willing her to understand. “You’re still my Luna. You’ll always be important to me. Aria will… simply be part of our lives now.”

The world tilted beneath her. Nothing has to change? The man she’d loved, defended, and waited for was telling her he’d found the one the Moon Goddess had chosen for him — and she was supposed to pretend this didn’t change everything?

Nicole forced her lips into a smile that felt like it might shatter her face. “Of course,” she said, her voice steady only by sheer will. “Welcome home, Alpha.”

And though she stood still, her entire world had just begun to crack.

The rain eased to a drizzle, soft as whispers, but the air between Nicole and Brian was sharp enough to cut skin.

The gathered pack watched in silence — some with confusion, some with thinly veiled excitement. A few warriors exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. Nicole could feel every pair of eyes on her, waiting to see how their Luna would react to this… revelation.

She stepped forward, closing the gap between herself and Brian until she could smell the familiar mix of pine and cedar on him — the scent she’d memorized long ago. It was there, but muted somehow, dulled by the unfamiliar perfume clinging to his cloak. Her gaze flickered briefly to Aria. The other woman’s amber eyes didn’t waver.

Nicole’s fingers curled into her palms, nails biting into skin. She extended a hand toward Aria. “Welcome,” she said. “I trust your journey here was safe.”

Aria’s smile was demure, her grip warm but strangely possessive. “It was… comfortable,” she replied, glancing at Brian as if to confirm the word. “Brian made sure of it.”

Nicole’s stomach twisted. She released Aria’s hand and took a measured step back, the picture of grace, even as her chest burned. “We’ve prepared a feast to welcome our Alpha home,” she said to Brian. “You must both be tired.”

Brian’s mouth lifted in a half-smile, but there was no guilt in his expression — no acknowledgment of the storm he’d brought with him. “You’ve always been thoughtful, Nicole. That’s one of the things I’ve missed about you.”

The words landed flat, lacking the warmth she remembered.

She turned away before the hurt could show, signaling to the waiting pack. “Come,” she called. “Let’s not keep them standing in the rain.”

The walk back to the heart of the territory was the longest of her life.

Nicole led the way, her posture tall, her expression unreadable. Behind her, Brian and Aria walked side by side, their hands still intertwined. The occasional murmur from the pack floated forward to her ears — snippets of admiration for Aria’s beauty, speculation about the Moon Goddess’s will, comparisons that made her stomach knot.

It was a short distance to the Great Hall, but every step felt heavier. The path wound through the central clearing where the training grounds lay empty now, past the healer’s den, past the row of cabins where the warriors lived. She’d built this place up while Brian was gone, fought for every improvement, every extra store of food, every layer of security.

And yet, watching how some pack members’ gazes lingered on Aria, Nicole felt as though she were already fading from their memories.

The Great Hall doors swung open at her touch, the scent of roasted meat and baked bread spilling out. Torches lined the walls, casting golden light over the long tables piled with food. The warmth inside should have been comforting. Instead, it felt suffocating.

“Please,” she said, turning to the pack. “Eat, drink, and welcome our Alpha home.”

As they filed inside, Brian lingered near the doorway, speaking quietly to Aria. Nicole caught the low rumble of his voice, the soft sound of her laugh, and it was like watching a dream dissolve in her hands.

She moved to the high table at the front, where the Alpha and Luna traditionally sat side by side. Her chair was in its usual place, but when Brian and Aria entered, Brian didn’t immediately take the seat beside her. Instead, he pulled a chair from another table for Aria, placing it close — too close to his own.

Nicole sat, her fingers lacing tightly in her lap.

The feast began, but she barely tasted the food. Conversations swelled around her — tales of hunts, questions for Brian about his travels — but they all seemed to orbit the golden figure of Aria.

Someone asked how they’d met. Nicole didn’t want to hear the answer, but the words came anyway.

“I found her on the outskirts of the Northern Wastes,” Brian said, his eyes softening as they landed on Aria. “She’d been attacked by rogues. I knew the moment I saw her that she was… meant for me.”

Meant for him. The phrase echoed in Nicole’s head, hammering against the walls of her composure.

Halfway through the meal, she excused herself. “I’ll check on the kitchens,” she told the table, ignoring Brian’s brief, distracted nod.

In the corridor beyond the hall, the noise dulled to a hum. Nicole pressed her back to the wall, tilting her head up toward the ceiling. She counted her breaths, willing the tightness in her chest to ease.

Three years.

Three years of loyalty, of holding the pack together, of keeping his name honored when others doubted. Three years of waiting for him, believing he’d come back to her.

And this was her reward.

She didn’t hear the footsteps until they were almost beside her.

“Nicole.”

Her eyes opened to find Caleb, the Beta, watching her with concern. His dark brows were drawn tight, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Don’t,” she said, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to hear the words you’re about to say.”

He hesitated. “The pack will follow your lead. Whatever you do now, they’ll take it as a sign.”

Her laugh was humorless. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I think,” Caleb said slowly, “you’re too good at hiding what you feel. And that might be dangerous now.”

She pushed off the wall. “Let me worry about that.”

But as she walked away, Nicole knew Caleb was right. The first crack in her world had appeared today. And if she wasn’t careful, it would spread until everything she’d built came crashing down.

That night, long after the hall had emptied and the last torch burned low, Nicole stood alone on the balcony outside her chambers.

Below, the pack slept. Above, the moon hung pale behind drifting clouds. Somewhere, she could hear the low murmur of voices from the Alpha’s quarters — Brian’s voice and the lighter lilt of Aria’s.

Her hands gripped the railing until her knuckles ached.

She didn’t know what was coming, but a cold certainty settled in her chest.

This was only the beginning.