The Luna He Threw Away

Six hundred people watched the man I was supposed to marry reject me on our wedding day.

I stood there in the white silk gown that had once belonged to my mother before she was laid to rest. Around my neck rested the Voss family pearls. The Voss wedding crown, forged in 1847, sat atop my dark auburn hair. I had been promised to Alpha Caelum Sterling since I was sixteen years old, honoring my father’s final wish before he died.

I had waited seven years for this day.

The Sterling Pack ballroom glowed beneath the light of three hundred candles. White roses covered the marble floor like scattered snow. Every Alpha from the seven ruling families of Northern Hollow sat in the front row wearing formal ceremonial robes.

I walked the long aisle alone.

My father was gone.

My mother was gone.

My grandmother had passed in 2018.

The only family member beside me was my cousin, Isolde, who followed a few steps behind in a pale blue maid-of-honor gown, carrying the train of my dress.

At exactly 11:47 in the morning, I reached the altar.

Caelum was already there.

Twenty-eight years old. Six foot four. Sharp Sterling features. The strong jawline that had appeared on the cover of Werewolf Quarterly three times in the last four years. His gray eyes were famous throughout Northern Hollow. He wore the black ceremonial robes reserved for the Alpha bloodline of the Sterling Pack.

And he wasn’t looking at me.

His gaze was fixed somewhere beyond me.

On Isolde.

The ceremony began.

Father Voren, the Sterling Pack High Priest, stood before us. He was eighty-three years old and had served generations of wolves. Holding the ancient Sterling ceremonial book dating back to 1612, he recited the traditional Northern Hollow marriage rite.

The ceremony lasted seventeen minutes.

When the final words were spoken, Father Voren turned toward Caelum.

His voice was gentle.

“Alpha Caelum Sterling, under the Old Law of the Northern Packs and before the Moon Goddess, do you accept Ariadne Voss as your Luna, your mate, and your bonded wife?”

Silence followed.

Then more silence.

Caelum didn’t answer.

The six hundred guests waited.

The Alphas seated in the front row waited.

Behind me, Isolde remained perfectly still.

Slowly, Caelum lifted his eyes.

For one long moment, he looked directly at me.

Then, beneath the pale spring sunlight spilling through the ballroom windows, he turned away.

Toward Isolde.

His voice remained calm.

“Father Voren.”

“Yes, Alpha Sterling.”

“I reject my bond with Ariadne Voss.”

The entire ballroom froze.

Not a single sound.

I didn’t flinch.

I didn’t allow myself to break.

Instead, I raised my chin and met his gaze.

Caelum never looked away.

In the same composed voice he used during Alpha gatherings, he continued.

“I name Isolde Voss as my Luna. Under the Old Law of the Northern Packs, I claim my bond with Isolde Voss. Before this day ends, I will take her as my mate and my bonded wife.”

The color drained from Father Voren’s face.

Very slowly, he turned toward me.

His old eyes held something close to pity.

“Ariadne Voss.”

“Yes, Father Voren.”

“Under the Old Law of the Northern Packs, do you accept this rejection?”

Six hundred people waited for my answer.

The Alphas watched from the front row.

Isolde remained motionless behind me.

I lifted my head higher.

My eyes found Caelum Sterling.

The Alpha I had been engaged to for seven years.

The man I had imagined building a future with.

The man I had once believed would stand beside me for the rest of my life.

When I spoke, my voice sounded exactly the way my mother had taught me to speak when I was three years old.

Steady.

Controlled.

Graceful.

“Yes, Father Voren.”

A pause stretched between us.

“I accept the rejection.”

Silence followed.

Then I turned.

Slowly.

Carefully.

And I walked back down the aisle.

I didn’t cry.

I didn’t give anyone the satisfaction.

Every lesson of Voss family dignity remained intact.

Yet when I reached a small side door near the ballroom exit, I stopped.

The door led to the Sterling inner sanctum.

The private room where the Sterling Pack financial ledger had been stored since 1847.

The door stood unlocked.

Earlier that morning, it had been opened for the traditional Alpha blessing ceremony.

No one had secured it afterward.

Quietly, I slipped inside.

The room smelled faintly of old paper, oak wood, and centuries of pack history.

The ledger rested on an aged oak stand.

Without hesitation, I picked it up.

Carefully, I concealed it beneath the folds of my white silk gown.

Then I walked back out.

No one stopped me.

No one noticed.

I left the ballroom.

I crossed the Sterling courtyard.

The cool spring air touched my skin as I stepped into the pale morning sunlight of Northern Hollow.

Waiting at the curb was Mikhal Korven.

He was sixty-seven years old.

The same Voss family driver who had driven my mother to her own wedding in 1991.

The old black Bentley stood beside him.

As soon as he saw me, he opened the rear door.

“Lady Voss.”

I slid into the back seat.

The Sterling ledger rested beside me.

“Mikhal.”

“Yes, Lady Voss.”

“Take me to the Free Cities.”

For a moment, he said nothing.

A long moment.

After forty-three years serving the Voss family, Mikhal Korven had mastered the art of hiding surprise.

His expression never changed.

He simply closed the door.

Then he walked around the Bentley beneath the bright spring sky and settled into the driver’s seat.

The engine rumbled to life.

In the rearview mirror, his eyes met mine.

“The Free Cities, Lady Voss.”

A brief pause.

“Using the Northern roads, the journey will take five days.”

I lowered my gaze to the Sterling Pack ledger resting beside me.

The heavy leather cover felt almost warm beneath my fingertips.

Then I spoke softly.

“Yes, Mikhal.”

Silence lingered for a heartbeat.

“Five days is exactly the amount of time I need.”