The Alpha Cursed Luna

Dara's POV

I felt the silence before I understood it.

It came over the clearing like something dropping — three hundred wolves going still all at once, breath held, the night itself seeming to lean in and wait. I have never gotten used to silence like that. It has weight. It sits on your chest until breathing becomes a decision instead of a reflex.

I stood at the center of the Cross pack's ceremonial circle, wrapped in white I hadn't chosen, my hair braided the exact way Damien's mother believed a Luna's hair ought to be braided. Even my hands were folded the correct way, the dutiful way, because tonight had never truly belonged to me. It belonged to the pack, to tradition, to Lady Corinne's idea of what I was supposed to become.

I told myself none of that would matter once the mark was on my neck. Once his teeth found my skin and the bond settled into the marrow of me, whatever version of myself I'd had to set aside to get here would stop mattering. I would simply *be* — Luna, chosen, real.

I looked up at him and let myself believe it, just for a breath.

Damien Cross stood above me on the raised stone platform, moonlight carving hard lines down the side of his jaw, his eyes gone the color of amber caught too close to a flame. My mate. My Alpha. The same boy who used to press stolen honeycomb into my palm before pack politics taught him to measure every single word before it left his mouth.

He wasn't measuring anything now. He wasn't saying anything at all, and the not-saying went on a beat too long.

"Damien." I kept my voice soft, the way I always had for him, just for him. "It's time."

Something crossed behind his eyes. Not love. Not even hesitation, which might have hurt less.

Guilt.

I understood half a second before his mouth opened, and understanding did nothing at all to soften what came next.

"I, Alpha Damien Cross," he said, and his voice didn't shake, didn't crack, didn't do a single thing a voice should do in the act of destroying someone, "reject Dara Adeyemi as my Luna and my mate."

The words hit the crowd like something physical — a ripple of gasps, a sharp intake of breath somewhere to my left, a low warning growl from the back of the clearing that I recognized, distantly, as Kai's. I didn't gasp. I didn't growl. I went still instead, the particular stillness prey learns without ever being taught it, and I waited for the ground to stop tilting beneath me.

"You don't mean that." My voice came out smaller than I wanted, smaller than I'd ever allowed it to get in front of this pack. "Damien. Look at me. Tell me you don't mean that."

He looked at me.

That was the cruelest part. He looked right at me, amber eyes steady, and let the silence answer in his place.

Lady Corinne stepped forward from the shadow of the platform then, moonlight sliding off her pale hair like water off stone, and something in my stomach turned over — sick, sudden understanding of exactly whose voice had shaped the words in her son's mouth.

"It's done." No cruelty colored her tone, which was somehow worse than if there had been. Just cold, clean satisfaction, the particular satisfaction of a woman watching a plan land exactly where she'd aimed it. "The bond is severed. Dara Adeyemi is no longer welcome among the Cross pack."

Some animal part of me screamed to run, to get away before this humiliation finished carving itself into the memory of every wolf watching — but my legs had forgotten how, and my chest had gone hollow in a way that had nothing to do with breathing at all.

"Damien—"

"Get her out of my sight." He said it to the guards. Not to me. He wouldn't even give me that much — his words aimed anywhere but at my face. "Now."

Hands closed around my arms. I didn't fight. What was left to fight for?

The last thing I saw, as they pulled me past the platform, was the color draining from Damien's face — ash-gray, wrong — and his hand pressed flat against his own chest, right over his heart, like something inside it had cracked wide open without warning.

I told myself it was guilt.

I was wrong about that, too.

---

They left me on the road outside pack territory with nothing but the dress on my back and Chidi's coat thrown hastily over my shoulders, her hands trembling as she tied it closed.

"This isn't over." Her voice came out low, fierce, glancing back at the guards keeping their careful distance. "I don't care what that witch of a mother says — this is not over, Dara—"

"It's over, Chidi." My voice landed flat. Hollowed out. "He rejected me. In front of everyone. It doesn't get more over than that."

She opened her mouth to argue — and that's when we heard it.

A scream. Not mine. Not hers.

His.

It tore through the trees like something breaking apart at the seams, raw and animal, and every wolf still gathered near the ceremonial circle went rigid at the sound of it. I turned before I could stop myself, some traitorous instinct in my chest still tuned to the exact pitch of his voice, still listening for him even now, even after everything.

Damien was on his knees in the clearing, both hands clawing at his own throat, black veins spreading up his neck like ink bleeding through water. Lady Corinne stood frozen above him, her composure finally cracking, real fear breaking through for what looked like the first time in her life.

"What's happening to him?" someone shouted.

An old voice answered — Elder Mackenzie, the pack's oldest bloodline keeper, her face gone the color of bone. "The Goddess," she breathed. "He rejected a true bond. She's not letting that go unanswered."

Chidi's hand found mine, gripping hard enough to hurt.

"Dara." Her voice had dropped to barely a whisper. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything." My eyes stayed locked on Damien, on the black veins climbing toward his jaw, on the way his whole powerful body had folded down into something small and terrified in front of the entire pack. "I didn't do anything at all."

But some quiet, ancient part of me — the part that had felt something shift the moment his teeth should have broken my skin and didn't — already knew better.

The Moon Goddess had heard him reject me.

And she was making him pay for every single word of it.