The Luna He Rejected, The Queen He Lost

Nadia

I'm Nadia, eighteen, the only daughter of the Royal Pack. The first female alpha born in three generations.

My path was decided before I could walk. Years of private tutors, pack history lessons, strategy lessons. One day I would lead. One day I would marry someone chosen for the alliance, not for me. People didn't see me. They saw the title.

My father loved me, but he was afraid for me too. A female alpha was rare, and rare things get hunted. So he kept me home. He kept my strength quiet. He told the pack I was ordinary, weak even. It was safer that way, he said.

I hated it.

Every morning I watched the school bus pass our gates from my window. Kids laughed on the sidewalk, shoved each other, and ran to catch up with friends. I used to imagine what that felt like being just another student, not a name people whispered about.

"You have everything," my cousin Wren told me once. "Land, title, protection. Why do you want school so badly?"

I didn't have an answer she'd understand. She'd never been trapped inside stone walls, watching a normal life happen at a distance.

By the time I turned eighteen, I stopped asking permission. I found a small pack near the city that didn't know my face. I told them my name was Nadia Voss, nothing else. No title. No pack colors. Just a girl asking to enroll.

They said yes.

My father found out three days later. He was furious, then quiet, then tired. "You'll hide your wolf," he finally said. "No shifting, no scent marking, no alpha voice. If anyone finds out what you are, it puts you and this pack in danger."

I agreed before he finished the sentence.

So I became someone else. At school, I was just Nadia, a transfer student who kept to herself, who flinched when teachers called on her, who ate lunch alone by the science building. Nobody looked twice. That was the point.

I told myself I didn't mind.

Some days I almost believed it.

The trouble started on my third week, during pack training hour, the class where students learned control of how to hold back a shift, how to keep a growl out of their voice. It was mandatory for every wolf student, no exceptions.

I sat near the back, arms crossed, trying to look bored instead of terrified. My wolf was strong. Stronger than anyone in this room could imagine. If I lost control here, even for a second, everyone would know exactly what I was.

The trainer called names for sparring pairs. I kept my eyes down, hoping to be forgotten.

"Nadia Voss," he called instead. "You're with Kade."

My stomach dropped.

I'd heard the name before, in whispers between classes. Kade Ashford, heir to the Ashford pack, the largest territory outside the Royal lands. Girls went quiet when he walked past. Guys straightened their shoulders, trying to look tougher than they were.

I'd never spoken to him. I hadn't planned to.

He walked over now, tall, unbothered, like sparring with a stranger was nothing new. "You're new," he said. Not a question.

"Yeah."

"Try not to make this boring." His mouth curved, not quite a smile.

I almost laughed. If he only knew.

We squared up on the mat. He moved first, fast, testing me the way trainers taught controlled, not cruel. I sidestepped without thinking, my body reacting the way it always had, the way years of real training had built into muscle and bone.

He paused. Just for a second. His eyes narrowed slightly, like he'd noticed something he wasn't supposed to.

I froze. Too fast. That was too fast for a girl who'd never trained before.

"Lucky guess," I said quickly, forcing my shoulders to slump, my stance to loosen into something clumsier.

He didn't answer right away. He circled me once, studying, and for a moment I swore I felt something under my skin like a pull, faint but unmistakable. My wolf lifted her head inside my chest, alert, curious, drawn toward him in a way I'd never felt before.

No. Not now. Not him.

I stepped back before she could push further, before that pull became something neither of us could ignore.

"You alright?" Kade asked, tilting his head.

"Fine," I said. "Just tired."

He studied me a moment longer, like he didn't quite believe it, then let it go. "Sure."

We finished the round. I made sure to lose, to stumble at the right moments, to look like nothing more than an average student having an average day.

But walking home that afternoon, I couldn't stop thinking about that pull in my chest, the way my wolf had reached toward him without asking me first.

I told myself it meant nothing.

I told myself a lot of things that year.

I just didn't know yet how wrong I'd be.