BLOOD MOON BALL

Alba's POV

They invited me back to my hell.

Put my name on the guest list. Put Veronica’s name on the invitation in gold ink.

They wanted to humiliate me.

Instead, I walked in on the Alpha King’s arm and burned their whole night down.

"Red," Ares said.

I stared at the dress laid out on my bed.

Not black. Not safe.

Blood red. Silk. High neck in front, completely bare in the back. Slit to my hip.

It screamed look at me. It screamed I’m not hiding anymore.

The assistant called it "bold." I called it "armor."

Ares was in the doorway. He was already in black. Always black. Tailored suit, no tie, two buttons open at the top. His hair was still damp from his shower.

He walked in and stopped. His silver eyes dragged over me. From my red heels, up the slit, over the bare back, to my face. To my red lips. To the diamond choker at my throat hiding the faint bruises from Kieran’s grip at the last gala.

His jaw ticked. Once.

"Good," he said. His voice was rough. "You look like war."

My stomach flipped. "I look like a target."

"Same thing," he said. He held out his arm. "Ready?"

The car ride to Nightfang was silent. Rain hit the windows. His hand rested on my knee. Heavy. Warm. A reminder.

"Rules," he said. "One. Stay next to me. Two. Don’t cry. Three. If anyone touches you, I handle it."

"What if it’s a woman?"

"Especially if it’s a woman," he said.

I looked out at the city lights. "What if I freeze?"

"You won’t," he said simply. Like it wasn’t a question. "And if you do, I’ll be the one talking."

Nightfang Packhouse.

The gates were open. White lights strung through the trees. Red roses everywhere. Mocking me.

This was where I was rejected. Where I knelt in the rain for two hours with silver burning my wrists while 60 wolves watched.

My hands went cold.

Ares noticed. He opened my door before the driver could. The flashes started immediately.

"Alpha King! Who is she?"

"That’s Alba Monroe! The rejected one!"

"Are they really mated?"

"She’s wolfless!"

Ares ignored them all. He took my hand and laced our fingers together. His hand was hot. Mine was freezing.

He didn’t lead me to the side. He walked me straight through the center of the red carpet.

The ballroom was worse than I remembered. Bigger. More gold. More crystal. The scent of champagne and expensive perfume made me nauseous.

And at the center of it all, on a raised platform, was Kieran.

In black and gold. Looking like the alpha he was born to be.

And Veronica. In white. Of course. Princess dress. Diamond crown. Diamond choker.

She saw me and her smile dropped. Just for a second. Then it came back, sharper.

For one second, the whole room went quiet.

200 wolves. All staring. Whispering.

Then Ares moved.

He didn’t go to the bar. He didn’t mingle.

He walked straight to the center of the dance floor.

Right under the massive chandelier.

Right in front of Kieran’s platform.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ares said. His voice wasn’t loud, but alpha command carried it to every corner. "Thank you for inviting us to the Blood Moon Ball."

Kieran stepped forward. His smile was tight. "Alpha King. You’re welcome. And this must be..."

"Alba," Ares cut him off. He turned to me and his hand came to the small of my bare back. "My Luna."

He said it loudly. Possessive. Final.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Veronica laughed. Too loud. "Luna? Her? She’s wolfless, Alpha King. Everyone knows that. Are you sure you don’t want someone... more suitable?"

Ares turned to her. Slow.

The room went dead quiet again.

"Careful," he said. Soft. Deadly. "The last person who called my Luna wolfless lost their trading rights for a year. Would you like to test me, Lady Veronica?"

Veronica paled. "I was just"

"I’m not," Ares said. He looked down at me. "Are you okay?"

Everyone was watching. Waiting for me to break.

I straightened my back. The red dress felt like fire on my skin.

"I’m fine," I said. My voice didn’t shake.

"Good," Ares said. Then he looked at Kieran. "Music."

The band started immediately.

Ares didn’t ask. He just pulled me onto the dance floor.

His hand was on my bare back. The other held mine.

We moved. He led. Of course he did.

"You’re shaking," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

"Everyone’s watching."

"Let them," he said. "Let them see what they threw away."

The song changed. Slower.

His hand on my back tightened. Not painful. Just there.

"You smell like anger," he said.

"And blood," I whispered back.

"Good," he said. "Use it."

I looked up at him. Gold flecks in his silver eyes. Cedar and whiskey.

"You didn’t have to bring me here," I said.

"Yes, I did," he said. "They need to see you’re not the girl in the rain anymore."

The music swelled.

That’s when Veronica cut between us.

"May I cut in, Alpha King?" She smiled. Sweet. Fake.

"No," Ares said.

"I just want to talk to Alba," she said. "Woman to woman. For old times?"

Ares’ jaw tightened. He looked at me.

I gave the smallest nod.

He didn’t let go right away. His thumb brushed over my knuckles once.

"2 minutes," he said to Veronica. "I’m watching."

She dragged me to a corner near the pillars. Far enough that no one could hear, close enough that Ares could see us.

"What do you think you’re doing?" she hissed the second we stopped. "You’re embarrassing him. You’re embarrassing the pack. You’re wolfless trash and everyone knows it."

I stared at her.

Her perfect makeup. Her diamond crown. The way she held herself like she owned the world.

23 years. 23 years of this.

Something in me snapped.

"No," I said. My voice was quiet but steady. "I’m not."

"What?"

"I’m not wolfless," I said. "And I’m not trash. And I’m not yours anymore."

Her face twisted. Red. "You ungrateful"

Her hand came up.

Ares was there before she made contact.

He caught her wrist in mid-air. His grip wasn’t hard, but she gasped.

"Touch her," he said. Quiet. "And I’ll end your bloodline."

He let go. She stumbled back into a pillar.

He turned to the room. To all 200 wolves watching.

He pulled me to him. Arm around my waist. Hard. Possessive.

"This," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "is Luna Alba Blackwood. She is under my protection. She is under royal law. Anyone who harms her, insults her, or looks at her wrong will answer to me. Are we clear?"

Silence.

Then one person clapped.

Then another.

Then the whole room.

Kieran’s face was red. His fists were clenched. Veronica was shaking with rage.

Ares leaned down. His lips brushed my ear.

"You did well," he whispered. "Now let’s go home."

He led me out.

No one stopped us.

No one dared.

In the car, I was shaking. Not from fear. From adrenaline.

Ares cursed under his breath and pulled me into his side.

"Breathe," he said. His hand was rubbing circles on my back. "You did it."

"I yelled at her," I whispered.

"I know," he said. And he sounded proud. "That’s my girl."

My girl.

The words hit me harder than Veronica’s slap would’ve.

At Blackwood, he walked me to my room. The halls were empty. Quiet.

"Nightmares?" he asked at my door.

"Maybe," I said.

He hesitated. His eyes dropped to my mouth, then back up.

"Door’s open tonight," he said. "If you need me."

He left.

I closed the door and leaned against it.

My hands were still shaking. But not from fear.

From power.

For the first time in 23 years, I didn’t feel like the girl in the rain.

I felt like the Luna.

I changed into black joggers and a tank. Washed the red off my face.

At 3am, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. Unknown number.

My heart dropped.

A photo.

Me. At the gala. In red. Ares’ hand on my back.

And underneath, in text:

`She’s not yours, King. She’s mine. And I’m coming to collect.`

I zoomed in with shaking fingers.

In the background, barely visible behind the crowd.

Kieran.

Watching us.

And smiling.