Mated to the stubborn luna

The sky burned crimson as the Blood Moon climbed above the peaks of Moonveil Ridge, casting an eerie red glow over the werewolf lands. Every year, the Blood Moon marked the season of mating, of fated bonds... and this year, it carried a deeper curse.Aria Moonveil, Luna of the Moonveil Pack, stood at the edge of the ceremonial cliff, arms crossed, jaw clenched. At twenty-four, she ruled without a mate — a rare, almost blasphemous choice in her world. But Aria didn’t care about tradition. She didn’t want to be bound. She didn’t need a man — especially not the one being forced upon her tonight.Her auburn hair whipped in the wind, glowing like embers beneath the moonlight. Her wolf stirred uneasily beneath her skin, unsettled by the scent of what was coming — change, danger... something ancient.“I refuse,” she said, her voice cold as steel.Her father, the retired Alpha, narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have a choice, Aria. The Council has agreed. The vampire prince arrives before midnigh

Aria awoke to silence.Not the peaceful kind — the heavy, waiting kind that made her instincts stir and her senses sharpen. Her chambers were bathed in pale morning light, filtered through ancient stone windows. Somewhere above, a raven cawed and flapped away into the breeze.She sat up in bed, her skin still humming faintly from the strange, electric tension that had haunted her sleep. Varek’s whispered “Aria” from the night before still lingered in her mind like the ghost of a touch.Was it real? Was he in her thoughts? Or had the bond already begun twisting her emotions?She shook the thought away.Throwing on a loose tunic and leather leggings, she stormed down the spiral staircase into the shared level — the neutral zone of the High Tower. This floor held a training court, a meeting chamber, and a library. And of course, a small shared kitchen where someone — not her — had dared to make coffee.The scent hit her nose before she saw him.Varek stood barefoot at the stone counter,

The moonstone necklace was light around her neck — too light for the weight it carried.Aria kept touching it throughout the day, fingers brushing the smooth surface as though it might vanish if she let go. She didn’t wear gifts. She didn’t accept them. But this one was different. It didn’t feel like a bribe or a claim. It felt… grounding. Like someone had seen her wolf for what it was: fierce, lost, and wild.She hated that it had come from him.By late afternoon, Aria found herself in the Tower library, surrounded by crumbling books and scrolls so old their ink had faded into the parchment. She wasn’t looking for a fairytale. She was looking for facts — histories of bonded pairs like her and Varek, stories of wolves and vampires cursed by the same fate.There weren’t many.Most ended in madness or bloodshed.One scroll caught her attention — a tale from the Third Era, long before the Night War, where a vampire lord had taken a rogue she-wolf as mate. The account said they ruled peac

The fire crackled inside the stone hearth, casting long shadows across the small cabin tucked deep within the Blackthorn Forest. Aria sat perched on the edge of a velvet-cushioned chair, arms folded, her legs bouncing with unspent rage. She wasn’t sure if she was more furious at Varek for bringing her here, or at herself—for letting him get to her.He was infuriating.Dominant. Mysterious. Calm in that way that masked something feral beneath.And right now, he was shirtless, again, standing by the fire like a cover model from a supernatural romance novel, while she tried to process the fact that she was… what, exactly? A Luna? A vampire’s fated mate? Some magical heir whose bloodline had apparently cursed her into a world of ancient clans and blood feuds?“This is kidnapping, you know,” Aria said sharply, breaking the silence. “Just because you say I’m your mate doesn’t give you the right to drag me halfway across the world into some broody vampire forest!”Varek turned slowly, red ey

Aria paced the velvet-carpeted corridor outside the council chamber, chewing her lower lip so hard she could taste blood. Her stomach churned like a storm was brewing in it. She’d survived a vampire ambush, accidentally awakened ancient magic, and trained with the broodiest Alpha in history—but this? This political tea party between blood-drinking aristocrats?Terrifying.“Stop pacing,” Varek said from beside her, arms folded, expression unreadable. “You’re not being sent to slaughter.”“Says the guy who can decapitate someone with a flick of his wrist,” she muttered.He glanced at her. “You look nervous.”“I am nervous,” she shot back. “You said the Hollowfang Elders don’t like the Crescent Line. Isn’t that me now?”“You’re not just the bloodline. You’re Aria. And they’ll see that.”She snorted. “Great. I’ll just charm the fangs off them.”Before Varek could reply, the doors opened. A guard nodded. “They’re ready.”Aria squared her shoulders and walked through the carved archway into