The Alpha’s Bride

The dawn came far too soon.

Ariana barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, Ethan’s voice echoed in her mind — cold, final, merciless. She tried to convince herself it was all a nightmare, that she’d wake up and the bond would still be there. But as the pale light of morning crept into her room, she realized the mark on her neck had truly vanished.

The bond was gone.

And in its place, a new fate awaited her.

Outside her window, the BloodMoon Pack was already stirring. Wolves moved briskly through the courtyard, carrying baskets of flowers, white silk, and golden ribbons. The air buzzed with tension, not joy. The wedding of a rejected Luna to the Alpha was no celebration — it was a political arrangement, a statement of power.

Ariana’s hands trembled as her mother fastened the last clasp on her white gown. It wasn’t the dress she’d dreamed of wearing. It was too tight at the waist, too heavy with embroidery, and too cold in meaning.

“You don’t have to do this,” her mother whispered, her voice breaking. “We can talk to the Alpha. Maybe he’ll—”

Ariana shook her head gently. “You know he won’t. No one questions Damon Black.”

Her mother’s eyes glistened with tears. “He’s not a kind man, Ariana. He’s lost too much. He doesn’t love. He commands.”

“I don’t need his love,” Ariana lied softly. “I just need to survive.”

Her mother pulled her into a hug, trembling. “You’re stronger than you think. Don’t let them break you, my child.”

The door creaked open. Beta Hale, her father, stood at the threshold, his face grim. “They’re waiting,” he said quietly. “It’s time.”

Ariana took one last breath, steadying herself. The scent of lavender and rain filled her lungs — the last familiar thing she would have before her world changed forever.

---

The BloodMoon Hall was vast and ancient, its walls carved with runes older than the pack itself. Torches burned blue fire along the stone pillars, casting strange shadows on the floor. At the far end, beneath the grand crest of the Moon Goddess, stood Alpha Damon Black.

He was taller than Ethan, broader in the shoulders, his aura ten times more intimidating. His dark hair brushed the collar of his black coat, and his silver eyes — cold and sharp — watched her like a predator measuring his prey.

The room fell silent as she entered.

Every step she took echoed. Every whisper stung.

“She looks terrified.”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“Damon’s Luna… poor thing won’t last a week.”

Ariana kept her head high, refusing to let them see her fear. But when her gaze finally met Damon’s, her breath caught. His expression was unreadable — no warmth, no cruelty, just calm control.

“You may approach,” he said, his voice deep and resonant.

She stepped forward, her pulse quickening.

Damon’s Beta — a tall, lean man named Marcus — began the ancient Luna Binding Rite. “By the will of the Moon Goddess, the Alpha claims his Luna. Their fates entwined, their blood united.”

Ariana barely heard the words. All she could feel was Damon’s gaze burning into her. When Marcus handed him the ceremonial dagger, her heart skipped.

The ritual required one drop of blood from each — to bind souls under the Moon’s light.

Damon’s hand was steady as he pricked his palm, a single drop of crimson falling into the silver bowl between them. He offered the dagger to Ariana.

She hesitated only a second before taking it. The blade was colder than she expected. She pressed it lightly to her palm, wincing as her blood joined his.

Marcus lifted the bowl toward the moonlit skylight. “The Moon bears witness.”

A flash of silver light filled the hall. The ritual was sealed.

Ariana was now Luna of the BloodMoon Pack.

Applause echoed — polite, forced. The pack bowed their heads, but she could feel their pity, their disbelief.

“Welcome, Luna,” Damon said quietly.

She looked up at him. “You didn’t give me a choice.”

His expression didn’t change. “Neither did fate.”

---

Hours later, the feast was over. The hall emptied. Ariana stood on the balcony outside her new chambers, her gown heavy with the scent of roses and smoke. The moon was rising again — full, cold, beautiful.

Behind her, the door opened. She didn’t turn.

“I didn’t expect a celebration,” she said softly. “Most weddings have laughter.”

“Most brides aren’t replacements,” Damon replied, his tone flat.

She closed her eyes. “So that’s what I am to you. A replacement for your dead mate.”

He didn’t deny it. “You wanted to survive. So do I.”

Ariana turned to face him, anger flickering behind her calm. “You could’ve chosen anyone, Alpha. Why me?”

Damon stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Because the Moon chose you. And because your father owes me his loyalty. A Luna from the Hale line will ensure that continues.”

“So this is about power.”

“This is about control.”

His words hit her harder than any rejection ever could. She took a step back, but he followed, his silver eyes glowing faintly.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Ariana,” he said softly, almost kindly. “I don’t want your heart. I only want your obedience.”

She swallowed hard, refusing to look away. “You’ll have neither.”

Something shifted in his expression — surprise, then something darker. “Careful, Luna. The last person who defied me no longer breathes.”

Ariana’s heartbeat thundered in her chest, but she didn’t flinch. “Then you’ll have to kill me too.”

A long silence stretched between them. Then, unexpectedly, Damon smiled — not with warmth, but with intrigue.

“Maybe I misjudged you,” he said finally. “Perhaps you’re not as weak as your former mate claimed.”

Ariana’s eyes burned. “Don’t speak his name.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Ethan?”

“Stop.”

But he didn’t. “He will regret what he did. Not because he lost you—” Damon’s voice dropped to a growl, “—but because he’ll soon learn what it means to envy his own brother.”

The room’s air thickened. Ariana’s wolf stirred deep inside her, restless, whispering danger.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

Damon’s gaze locked onto her, cold and deliberate. “You’ll understand soon enough. The Moon doesn’t make mistakes — even when it looks like punishment.”

Ariana shivered, but not from fear. Something in his tone made her heart twist — part dread, part curiosity.

When he finally turned and left, the door closing behind him, she sank into the nearest chair, her pulse racing.

The wind howled outside, carrying the scent of rain again — and something else. The faint metallic tang of blood.

Ariana’s eyes widened. She rushed to the balcony and looked down. At the edge of the courtyard, under the silver light, two wolves were locked in combat — one black, massive and powerful; the other smaller, golden, bleeding.

Her breath caught. The golden wolf — she knew that scent.

Ethan.

And the black one…
Damon.

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