Chapter 6; The Luna who shouldnt exist

A low, deep vibration rattled the floorboards beneath my feet. I opened my eyes in the dark. It wasn't the wind howling off the Alpine peaks. It was wolves. Dozens of them, their voices rising together in a raw, haunting chorus that made the glass panes of my window rattle.

The memory of the courtyard hit me like a physical blow. The freezing air. The violent withdrawal. The exact second my chemical barrier completely shattered, blasting my royal scent into the mountain night.

I threw off the heavy fur blankets and ran to the window. My bare feet slapped against the freezing stone floor. I pressed my hands against the frosted glass and looked down.

Every single guard in the courtyard was on one knee in the snow. They weren't moving. They were bowing toward my tower, completely subdued by the aura I couldn't hide anymore.

Then I saw him.

Reymond stood in the dead centre of the courtyard. He wasn't looking at his kneeling soldiers. He was staring directly up at my window. Even through the darkness and the falling snow, I could feel the heavy, dangerous weight of his molten gold eyes locking onto mine.

A sharp knock hit my bedroom door. Before I could answer, the heavy wood swung open.

Reymond stepped inside. He had changed into a crisp black shirt and dark trousers, but the feral, restless energy of the courtyard still clung to him. He smelled like winter frost and violence.

"They know," I whispered, wrapping my arms tightly around my waist. "Everyone knows."

"The elders are here," Reymond said flatly, closing the door behind him. "They arrived twenty minutes ago. They felt the shift in the territory."

I took a step back. "Then tell them to leave."

"It doesn't work like that, Natalia." He crossed the room, stopping a few feet away. "You flooded my mountain with a royal scent. Half the pack is out of their minds trying to figure out who is in this tower. The council is demanding I present my newly discovered Luna before sunrise."

"No." My voice shook, but I forced my chin up. "You told me the contract was a shield. You said it was a fake agreement to keep me safe. If I walk out there and let them parade me around, my father will know exactly where I am by noon."

"Your father already knows," Reymond replied bluntly. "He smelled you tonight. But the elders downstairs don't know who you really are. A Walker royal inside the Smith Syndicate will completely destabilize the political structure. If they find out I'm harboring Mauris's runaway heir, they'll panic. They'll demand I hand you over to him to avoid a war."

My stomach dropped. "Then what do we do?"

"You stand beside me," he said. "Publicly. You walk into that war room as my Luna."

"I refuse." I backed up until my shoulders hit the cold wall. "I won't be a prop for your politics. I'm not a prisoner, Reymond."

I expected him to snap. I expected the cold, ruthless Alpha from the glass elevator to grab my arm and drag me downstairs.

But he didn't move.

He just looked at me. The harsh lines of his face softened just a fraction.

"I'm not going to force you," Reymond said quietly. "You can stay in this room. You can hide. But if you don't walk down there and claim the title yourself, the elders will demand the right to inspect you. And if they do, I won't have the legal standing to stop them from taking you."

The air in the room grew heavy. He wasn't threatening me. He was giving me the choice. Walk into the fire on my own two feet, or let the monsters drag me into it. It was a terrifying realization: he actually wanted me to choose him. He wanted me standing beside him.

I looked away, my chest heaving. Sitting on the vanity was a simple, dark grey silk dress and a heavy velvet box. I walked over and pulled the dress on. It fit perfectly. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely open the box. Inside lay a thick, braided gold ceremonial necklace.

I picked it up, fumbling with the heavy gold clasp. I couldn't get it to catch.

Reymond stepped up right behind me.

"Let me," he murmured.

His large, scarred hands took the gold chain from my trembling fingers. The heat radiating off his chest seeped through the thin silk of my dress. He was so massive, so dangerous, yet his touch was incredibly slow. Careful. He fastened the clasp, his rough knuckles lightly brushing the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck.

A violent shiver ran down my spine. The proximity was suffocating, electric.

I looked at our reflection in the vanity mirror. A small, pale girl in grey silk, and the towering, dark predator standing over her shoulder.

"If I'm only your fake Luna," I asked quietly, my eyes meeting his in the glass. "Why do you look at me like that?"

His silver eyes darkened. His hands slid off my neck, dropping heavily onto my bare shoulders. He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The possessive grip of his fingers was a silent, burning answer that terrified me more than the elders downstairs.

"It's time," he said.

We walked out of the bedroom and descended the stone spiral staircase. The war room was a massive, vaulted chamber filled with a dozen old, scarred men sitting around a long oak table. The moment we stepped through the doors, the arguments completely died.

Every eye locked onto me.

Before Reymond could even speak, a woman stepped out from the shadows of the corner. She was ancient, draped in heavy furs, her eyes completely clouded over with white cataracts. The pack seer.

She didn't use a cane. She just walked straight toward me, stopping inches away. She tilted her head back and took a long, deep breath.

I froze, Reymond's hand tightening instantly on my lower back.

"Ozone," the old woman wheezed, her raspy voice echoing in the dead silence. "And crushed cinnamon."

The elders exchanged nervous, frantic looks.

The seer turned slowly toward the table. "She is not just a Luna. She is the Walker bloodline."

A sharp gasp rippled through the room.

"You're lying," one of the elders shouted, slamming his fist on the table. "The Walker girl is dead!"

"She is standing right here," the seer fired back, pointing a crooked finger blindly at my chest. "She is the last surviving heir capable of legitimizing the true ruler of the entire northern territories."

My heart slammed against my ribs. I looked at Reymond. He didn't look surprised.

Suddenly, I understood. I wasn't just his protection against his brother's coup. I wasn't just a convenient fake mate. I was the ultimate political prize. Whoever mated me didn't just get to keep their own syndicate, they gained the blood-right to rule half of Europe.

The room erupted into total chaos. The elders were on their feet, shouting, demanding answers from Reymond, arguing over whether to hide me or hand me over to Mauris.

Then, a piercing, high-pitched mechanical siren shattered the noise.

The red emergency lights in the war room began to flash violently.

The heavy iron double doors flew open and slammed against the stone walls. A syndicate guard rushed in, panting heavily. Blood was dripping from a nasty cut above his left eye, staining his tactical vest.

"Alpha!" the guard yelled over the siren. "Someone has breached the outer gates."

The shouting in the room stopped instantly.

Reymond stepped smoothly in front of me, shielding my body with his own. His hands curled into fists, the sharp tips of his claws slicing through the fabric of his trousers.

"Who?" Reymond barked, his voice carrying the sheer force of a physical blow. "Is it Mauris?"

The guard wiped the blood out of his eye. He looked past Reymond's broad shoulders and stared directly at me.

"They aren't attacking us, Alpha," the guard panted, his chest heaving. "They surrendered their weapons at the gate."

Reymond's eyes narrowed into deadly slits. "Then what do they want?"

The guard swallowed hard, looking back at Reymond.

"They're asking for the Luna."