The Luna He Lost

Selene's Point of viewI stood at the edge of the moonstone platform, hands trembling beneath the delicate lace of my ceremonial gown. My wolf, Nyra, was restless beneath my skin—pacing, growling softly, confused by the crackle of tension that hadn’t eased since dawn.This was supposed to be the happiest night of my life.The night my mate would mark me.The night I would become Luna of the Bloodhowl Pack.But Damon hadn’t looked at me once since the sun set. Not even during the vow procession. His gaze remained fixed somewhere beyond the crowd, jaw locked, shoulders tense. Every time I reached for the tether that bound us—our mate bond—I felt it twist. Not snap. Just… twist.Like something was wrong.Like something was coming.I tried to brush it off. Told myself it was nerves. Told myself it was just the pressure of the ceremony, the weight of the crown, the hundreds of eyes watching us. But deep down, I knew better.Damon wasn’t nervous. He was distant. Cold. And he hadn’t touched

The first time Damon Voss kissed me, we were fourteen and hiding behind the training shed after sparring. I still had a black eye, and he still had blood on his knuckles, but I remember thinking, this is what fate feels like.I’d been raised on stories of destined mates, fierce love, and unwavering devotion. We grew up together—me, the future Luna, and him, the boy who would become Alpha. Our families told us we were blessed. That the Moon Goddess had spun our souls from the same thread.But they never talked about how threads could fray.Killian's fire crackled low behind me in the cave, but I barely noticed. My mind was drifting, haunted by the echoes of a past I no longer claimed.Damon had once been my everything.He used to sneak into my room after curfew just to lie next to me in wolf form, his thick, silver-gray fur warming my side. I’d bury my face in his neck and breathe in the promise of forever. He used to trace my spine with his fingertips like he was memorizing a map to h

SeleneI woke to the scent of smoke and pine.Not the kind that choked or stung—but the kind that whispered of something ancient. Like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see who I’d become.The cave was cooler this morning. Shadows stretched across stone, thick and unmoving, but I didn’t feel fear. Not like before. That weight that had clung to my chest like chains since Damon’s rejection—it wasn’t gone, but it was quieter now. Duller.Killian hadn’t spoken much last night. He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t offer comfort. But somehow, his silence felt like something solid to lean against. Like if I broke again, I wouldn’t fall far.I stepped outside and found him already waiting.Shirtless, barefoot, his back to me. Broad shoulders tensed with something coiled and dangerous. There were scars. Dozens. Like lightning had struck him and the burns never healed right. His tattoos—if they were even that—weren’t tribal or pretty. They were jagged. Markings that hummed with old

KillianThe wind shifted.I felt it before I saw the signs—before the birds took to the skies in frightened flocks, before the scent of foreign wolves painted the breeze with warning. Something was moving through the trees, closer than it should be. My jaw tightened as I knelt, fingers pressed to the soil. Too many tracks. Too heavy for rogues.They were searching.They’d come for her.Selene was still at the edge of the glade, wiping the remnants of ash from her arms like it didn’t bother her anymore. But I could see it—the tightness around her mouth, the flicker of her lashes when she thought no one was watching. She had faced herself in that circle. She had survived it. But she hadn’t forgotten.That kind of pain doesn’t disappear. It burrows. It waits.And now it had company."They’re close," I said quietly.She looked up, eyes sharp. "Damon’s wolves?"I nodded. "At least three. Maybe more."Her mouth curled, but there was no fear in it. Only something dark. Calculating. "Let me f

SeleneThe blood hadn’t even dried before the questions started.Not from Killian.From me.I stood over the bodies of the wolves we didn’t kill—just broken enough to crawl back to Damon with their tails between their legs—and felt the shift still humming under my skin.It hadn’t stopped. My body was back to human, but the wild in me was still awake. Clawing. Watching.I didn’t want it to go back to sleep.“Why didn’t you stop me?” I asked Killian quietly as we walked back toward the heart of the forest, our steps silent on moss and root.“I told you,” he said, his voice like gravel and smoke. “I wasn’t here to stop you. I was here to see what you’d do.”“And if I had lost?”He stopped walking. I felt the heat of him before I turned. He was close. Closer than I expected.“I would’ve bled with you.”There was no smile in his voice. No soft edge. Just truth. Raw and sharp.I hated how much I needed that truth.We reached the stone-ringed clearing again. The place where I’d first seen hi