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The Submission Guidelines
最終更新日:
2025-11-02 18:29:15
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The Rejected Luna The Game of Submission
“On your knees.”Roman’s voice cut through the grand hall like a blade drawn across silk.The command was quiet, but it carried , over the murmurs of the gathered pack, over the clinking of goblets and the heavy scent of wine and cedar smoke.Luna froze.Every eye in the hall turned toward her.The celebration had begun as a show of dominance , a banquet for the neighboring Alphas, an exhibition of Roman’s unchallenged power. The tables gleamed with silver. The air shimmered with the heat of the torches. And at the head of it all sat Roman, dressed in black and gold, his eyes like twin shards of winter stormlight.She stood a few feet away from him, still, expression calm, heart a storm beneath her ribs.“What did you say?” she asked, her voice low enough that only he could hear.Roman leaned back in his chair, the faintest curl of amusement ghosting his mouth. “You heard me.”He said it softly, almost lazily, but his gaze was razor-sharp, daring her to disobey.The silence stretche
The Rejected Luna Whispers of Strategy
“Cassian thinks you’ve lost control.”Roman’s voice sliced through the dark like the edge of a blade.He stood at the center of his private war room, surrounded by maps and burning candles that cast uneven light across the floor. The scent of smoke and leather filled the air. It was late, past the hour when most men slept, but Roman never slept well when his mind hunted ghosts.Cassian didn’t flinch. “Then Cassian thinks correctly,” he said, stepping from the shadows. His coat was unbuttoned, his jaw set in quiet defiance. “You’ve been distracted. Since her.”Roman’s eyes flickered upward. “Careful.”“I’m your second, not your servant.”“You’re both,” Roman said calmly. “You just prefer the first title.”Cassian’s mouth twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Titles don’t matter. But the pack does. The council’s restless. They whisper that you’re softening.”Roman arched an eyebrow. “Softening?”“They’ve seen how you look at her.”The Alpha turned his head slightly, candleli
The Rejected Luna The Secret Chamber
“Where does he go every night?”The question slipped from Luna before she could stop it.The maid beside her , a girl with ink-black braids and frightened eyes , flinched as if struck. “Don’t ask that,” she whispered. “Some doors stay shut for a reason.”But Luna’s curiosity had already taken root. Since the dinner, since Roman’s mouth had touched her blood, her mind hadn’t known peace. Every night the same: his footsteps fading down the corridor after midnight, the soft click of a distant door, the hush that followed, like the castle itself held its breath.That silence was louder than any scream.When the moon climbed high, Luna rose from her narrow bed. She moved barefoot, her gown whispering against the stone. The halls were dim, the sconces burning low. Guards patrolled in lazy arcs, their armor catching fragments of silver light. She had memorized their rhythm , two minutes between passes , and slipped through the gap like smoke.The castle at night was a different creature.
The Rejected Luna Dinner of Deceit
“Smile, Luna. You’re being watched.”Roman’s voice brushed her ear like smoke, quiet enough that no one else could hear.The command wasn’t harsh; it was velvet, soaked in warning. The kind of tone that could coax obedience out of anyone who feared the wrong consequence.Luna’s lips curved. The smile came slow, deliberate, thin as a blade. She didn’t turn to him. Didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing that his voice could still stir something hot and electric in her veins.“I didn’t realize you wanted me to perform,” she murmured.“Always,” he said. “Especially when they’re watching.”He gestured subtly with his wine glass toward the long table ahead of them, where his council , a circle of his highest betas , waited in the dim glow of chandeliers.The hall itself was carved out of marble and shadow. Gold and obsidian chandeliers hung low, casting long, tremulous shapes across the room. The walls were hung with the banners of conquered packs , proof of Roman’s authority, each t
The Rejected Luna The Echo Chamber
“Can you hear me, Luna?”The voice slid through the dark like a breath on her skin.Luna jolted awake, her pulse thundering in her ears. The room was empty, no torches, no windows, only the faint glow of pale light trembling across black stone. She pushed herself upright slowly, her hands brushing cold marble. Every sound echoed, stretching into eternity.“Roman?”Her voice came back to her, sharper, distorted, multiplied. Dozens of her own tones whispered her name back. Luna. Luna. Luna.Her chest tightened. “Where are you?”Roman’s laughter drifted through the air, low and distant. “Everywhere you look.”She turned in a slow circle, eyes scanning the walls. They weren’t walls at all, at least not ordinary ones. Each surface shimmered faintly, like glass breathing. Her reflection looked back from all sides, faint and ghostlike.“Another trick,” she whispered.“Not a trick,” his voice murmured. “A lesson.”She faced one of the mirrored walls. Her reflection stared back, pale, tremblin
The Rejected Luna The Choice
“Drink.”The single word cracked through the silence like a command meant for the soul.Luna looked up from the table, the candlelight glinting against the two silver chalices set before her. One shimmered faintly blue; the other, red as blood. The scent of wine and metal hung between them, thick and heavy.Roman sat across from her, every line of his body composed, his expression a mask of calm indulgence. His coat was black, his shirt unbuttoned at the throat, exposing a line of skin that caught the firelight in ways that made it difficult to breathe.Her voice came steady. “What are they?”He leaned back slightly, fingers drumming once against the table’s edge. “One grants freedom. The other, peace.”“Freedom,” she repeated slowly. “And peace.” Her gaze flicked to him. “Both sound like lies.”Roman’s mouth curved. “Perhaps. But only one of them binds.”The air between them seemed to hum.Luna glanced down again, the reflection of the flames dancing across the surface of the cups. “
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