The Chubby Shadow Luna

Nightfall Range, Montana - 2025

A World Humans Never See

Most humans believe Montana is an empty wilderness, a place for hikers, hunters, and people running from things they won’t admit.

They have no idea what sleeps beneath the snow.

The Nightfall Range, the jagged crown of the Rocky Mountains stretching from glacier fields to shadowed valleys, is NOT empty wilderness.

It is ruled.

Hidden by ancient lunar wards thicker than the fog that coils through its pines, the Nightfall Range is the beating heart of the American wolf world. Entire packs live here unseen. Bloodlines older than the country itself anchor their roots in the mountains. And the moonlight that falls on these peaks is never entirely human.

This is where the BloodFang Pack reigns.

Cruel, disciplined, and unforgiving.

Trained from birth for dominance and survival. Led by Alpha Corvin Draxen, feared in five territories and respected in ten. Wolves whisper his name like a warning.

Under him stand betas, gammas, and enforcers. Witches patrol the hidden borders. Vampires dwell in old stone tunnels beneath the southern cliffs. And in the highest ridge, dragons are rumored to sleep, though no living wolf has ever seen one.

The supernatural world is scattered across continents, but the wolves of the Nightfall Range remain its spine.

And Emara Dell? She is nobody. She is just another chubby girl the world has ignored.

A healer. A soft spoken girl with gentle hands. A curvy, round bodied omega who learned long ago that the pack notices and values only what it can use… and despises what it cannot.

She hides in plain sight stitching wounds no one thanks her for. She wears heavy healer robes that swallow her curves because wolves talk when they think she cannot hear.

Too fat to fight. Too soft for a warrior pack. Too gentle for Luna. Too quiet to matter.

She does not expect greatness. She does not expect love. She does not expect anything at all.

But the mountain feels her breath. The moonlight hums against her skin. And something ancient is beginning to turn beneath the snow.

A ripple passes through the wards of the Nightfall Range. A whisper, almost too faint to notice. A stirring of old power that should have stayed asleep.

By dawn… the balance of this land will shift.

By dawn… a girl no one ever looked at twice will stand on the edge of destiny.

By dawn…..the Shadow Luna will take her first breath.

___________________

Emara Dell POV

Moon Rite Amphitheater

The Moon Rite amphitheater always made me feel like a speck of dust.

I was surrounded by stone carved deep into the mountain, torches lining every ledge, and wolves were shoulder to shoulder in tense silence. Tonight the air felt heavier than usual. Charged, and almost expectant.

The moon hung low and red, glowing like a wound. An omen, the elders said. A blessing. A warning. All three, if you asked me.

Rowan bumped his elbow into mine as we walked toward the healer’s circle. “You’re shaking,” he whispered.

“I’m cold,” I lied.

“You’re not cold,” he whispered back. “You’re scared.”

I swallowed, my eyes flicking over the crowd. All around us were wolves I grew up with. Wolves who never saw me. Wolves who laughed behind my back. Wolves who didn’t even fucking bother hiding it.

Some of them snickered already, lookimg at how my healer’s robes clung to my soft stomach, and my ample hips. I tugged the fabric tighter, wishing I could disappear into it completely.

Rowan noticed and frowned. “Stop tugging. You look beautiful.”

“I look like a stuffed pillow,” I muttered.

“A gorgeous pillow,” he said. “Luxurious. Velvet. Possibly enchanted.”

Despite myself, I snorted. But it didn’t ease the terror curling in my chest.

The Moon Rite decided fates. Mates. Bonds. Roles. It fucking decided everything.

Everyone else was buzzing with excitement. Me? My stomach felt like it was in my throat.

For weeks, my wolf had been restless. She felt something coming. Something big. She paced in my mind now, with her tail held high, anxious and hopeful in a way that made me feel sick.

“What if…” I whispered, barely able to say it. “What if I find him tonight?”

Rowan squeezed my hand. “Then I will scream. Loudly. Dramatically. And probably fall over.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself.

I wasn’t supposed to hope for a mate. Mates were for warriors. For perfect wolves. For women like Lyrina Veega, not the chubby healer who hid in the infirmary and flinched at every insult.

But the stirring inside me was real.

Rowan leaned in, his voice soft. “Whatever happens, I’m right here.”

I nodded, breathing in the cold mountain air.

The Rite was about to begin. My future was about to unravel. And something ancient was waking.

I just didn’t know yet, whether it would save me…

......or destroy me.