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The White Wolf Luna
The White Wolf Luna
Author: A.C

Dreaming Under a Moonlit Sky

Author: A.C
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-16 21:56:08

Even moonlight ceremonies had to be perfect.

Selene ran her fingers over the silver-threaded dress that lay on her bed, remembering how her mom talked of moonlight ceremonies- simply magical nights when bonds were made between chosen mates as they declared their love under the full moon's blessing. She's spent countless hours imagining her own, especially since Caden had started courting her six months ago.

"You're doing it again." Lila's voice floated down from the bathroom where she was arranging ceremonial flowers. "That dreamy smile. Thinking about a certain Beta?"

"Can you blame me?" Selene flopped onto her bed, careful not to wrinkle the dress. "Remember the bonfire last week? The way he looked at me when he gave me this?" She held up her wrist, the silver charm bracelet catching the morning light.

Lila's response was oddly delayed. "Yeah. I remember."

Something in her tone made Selene sit up. "Li? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Lila emerged from the bathroom, close but wouldn't quite meet her friend's eyes. "Just wondering if you've noticed anything... different lately?" 

"Noticed anything different?"

Before Lila could answer, there came a chorus of excited voices from the courtyard below. Selene ran over to the window. The younger members of the pack busily worked in preparations for the evening's ceremony, hanging lanterns and arranging seating. Marina was among them, her copper hair shining as she directed the scene with trained authority.

"Looks like Marina has really taken charge of the decorations," said Selene, little by little. "That's good of her." 

Lila made a weird noise that was neither good nor bad. "Good is hardly the word I would use."

"What does that mean?”

"Nothing, just…" Lila set the flowers down and seated herself beside Selene. "Haven't you found it strange why she's so interested in your ceremony? As far as I know, she does everything, right from flowers to sitting arrangements. She's being adamant about even turning the usual time of such occasions from midnight to sunset."

"Though really, she is very helpful," Selene muttered, not entirely convinced since a tiny lump had formed in her stomach. "Besides, he and Caden have been childhood friends, so it made sense that she wanted to be involved."

"At least a bit too involved in my view." Lila plucked one moonflower, absently shredding its petals. "Have you noticed how else she's been cropping up around the Beta's office nowadays? There's almost always some question about arrangements for the ceremony... "

The knot tightened. Now that Lila had brought it up, Marina had been visiting a lot recently. But surely that didn't mean…

That thought was cut short by a knock. Her mother came in, bearing an 'aged silk' wrapped parcel. "Look what came today! Your grandmother's…" She trailed off, looking between them again. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," Selene answered quickly. "Just ceremony jitters."

Her mother's eyes narrowed as she set down the parcel and pulled out her phone. "Oh, that reminds me - didn't Caden mention to you about a change in the ritual order? He submitted it early this morning."

"Change? What 'change'?" 

"Mate declaration. He's asked permission to talk first, before you. It's unusual - back traditionally, the female speaks first, but..." She frowned at her phone. "Actually, the request came through Marina's office. I assumed he had discussed it with you." 

The knot in Selene's stomach expanded. A memory surfaced, with Caden and Marina huddled over papers in his office yesterday who fell silent when Selene entered. At the time, she'd assumed it was ceremony planning. Now... 

"I need to get out," Selene stood quickly. "Just... give me a minute?”

She fled down the corridor, her thoughts whirring. Each odd moment slotted into place, forming the uncomfortable image of Marina always being around. Caden's recent distraction. The changed time of the ceremony. Reversed speaking order.

Lost in thought, she almost collided with someone turning the corner.

"Careful, little wolf. " Marina steadied her, smiling perfectly as always. A folded paper slipped from her hand, landing face-up between them.

It was a draft of the mate declaration ceremony. But the name written beside Caden's wasn't Selene's.

Before she could make sense of what she had seen, though, Marina snatched it from her grasp. Diamond smooth. "Wrong draft," she said. "You weren't supposed to see that yet."

She walked away, leaving Selene frozen in the hallway, that last word echoing in her mind.

Yet.

Six hours until the ceremony and all of a sudden Selene wasn't sure she knew anything anymore.

—---

Selene forced the heavy doors of the pack archives open, trembling hands taking part in the act. She needed proof-evidence that would either eliminate all her hunches or confirm them. All these documents in the archives contained ceremonial documents, mate declarations included.

The musty room was silent aside from her speeding heartbeat as she moved just a gust of wind headed for the last shelf where all new worm-eaten declaring drafts accumulated. But then as soon as she rounded the last shelf, voices purled from the back corner. 

"Everything's arranged." Marina, the self- smug and satisfied voice, "The old fool thinks he's doing us a favor by changing the ceremony time.”

"Lower your voice," was the continued sharp retort from Caden. "If anyone's to-"

"They won't. Sweet, trusting Selene hasn't sensed a thing. Your little gift almost ruined everything. Anyway, it hasn't been in the plan," Caden muttered. "I just... she looked so happy at the bonfire. For a moment, I almost..."

"Almost what?" At that point, Marina's voice turned dangerous. "Had second thoughts? Need I remind you what's at stake?"

Selene leaned closer, barely breathing. What stake? What plan? 

A creak under her foot sounded from the floorboard. 

The voices halted. 

Heart pounding, Selene ducked behind a shelf as footsteps approached. Through a gap in the books, she watched Marina stride past, something gleaming in her hand - a key? An old letter? She couldn't quite see. 

Minutes later, Caden emerged from the back corner. But instead of following Marina, he hesitated. His hand brushed against the shelf, dislodging a small book that fell open at his feet. He stared at it for a long moment before walking away, leaving it there. 

When their footsteps faded, Selene crept forward. The fallen book was a collection of old pack laws. It had opened to a page about mate ceremonies, with one line underlined in faded ink: 

"A mate bond, once declared, supersedes all prior claims and arrangements."

Prior claims? Arrangements? 

A memory stirred from the previous month's pack council meeting. Fragments of binding contracts and northern alliance had trickled past her ears, but she had paid it no mind. Now, she wondered if she should have.

Returning to her room, Lila found herself pacing with an anxious heart.

"Where have you been? Your mother's looking everywhere! The ceremonial bath starts in an hour and-" Lila stopped suddenly, fetching her to observe the expression on her face. "What happened?"

"I need you to do something for me." Selene's voice remained steady even though her mind was swirling in chaos. "Find out everything there is to know about Marina's family. Especially anything related to northern packs."

"Why? What were you told?"

"Just a feeling." She picked up her grandmother's ceremonial dress; only now did she notice how its silver threads encircled each other in a pattern of chains instead of the usual moon phases. "Something bigger is happening tonight. And I don't think it has anything to do with love."

As if to support this, a howl echoed throughout the pack grounds-the incoming call of the visiting wolves. A group of the unfamiliar wolves was approaching the pack house through her window. An older wolf with Marina's coppertone hair led them.

Her father. The Alpha of the Northern pack. 

Selene unclasped the silver bracelet, allowing it to fall beside the dress. The sun was beginning its descent, putting shades of blood and gold in the sky. In three hours, she'd stand before her pack and declare her love.

Or perhaps, unearth something much darker.

She hoped very much to have the truth clear before it was too late.

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    The new world was alive, its pulse a quiet hum beneath their feet, as if the stone itself breathed with their victory. The horizon stretched wide, a tapestry of silver and gold where the sky met earth in a soft glow, unbroken by storm or shadow. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of something green, something growing, as if creation itself were taking its first tentative steps. Yet the whisper lingered a soft, insidious thread woven into the song of their hearts, not loud enough to drown it out, but sharp enough to cut. It knew their names, and it was calling.Rowan stood at the edge of the group, his blade sheathed but his hand resting on its hilt, eyes scanning the horizon for a threat he couldn’t yet see. Selene and Elyra stood side by side, their scars glowing faintly in harmony, light and shadow balanced but wary. Aelira’s moonlight flickered, her exhaustion evident in the slump of her shoulders, but her gaze was fierce, locked on the distance where the whisper seemed to ris

  • The White Wolf Luna    The Heart of All Choices

    The light didn’t fade, it burned, searing through the crucible of creation, through the endless expanse of thought and will. The golden thread was gone, snapped by their collective defiance, but its echo lingered in their veins, a pulse that matched the drumbeat now roaring within them. Rowan, Aelira, Agnes, Selene, and Elyra stood in a circle, their magics intertwined, their breaths synchronized, as the world around them reshaped itself. The ground was no longer thought but stone, jagged and warm, as if forged in the heart of a star. The sky was no longer will but a storm of gold and shadow, swirling with faces every choice they’d made, every life they’d touched, every world they’d refused to let die.The figure was gone, but its words remained: The unmaking is you, when you falter. And now, the drumbeat was no longer a threat from beyond it was their own hearts, their own doubts, their own choices echoing back. The crucible wasn’t just a place; it was a mirror, forcing them to fac

  • The White Wolf Luna   The Golden Threshold

    The white expanse stretched infinite, a void of light that felt neither empty nor full, but alive with possibility. The gold fracture pulsed before them, its warm light a stark contrast to the crimson and black that had nearly unmade them. It wasn’t a seam or a crack, it was a doorway, its edges soft and fluid, as if inviting them to step through. But the weight of the unmaking’s final words lingered: The unmaking waits. Rowan’s blade hung at his side, no longer glowing but steady in his grip, a reminder that trust was a luxury they couldn’t afford.Selene stood closest to the fracture, her moonlight aura dim but unwavering, her eyes locked on the golden light. Elyra mirrored her, scars faintly glowing, her presence a quiet strength beside her twin. Aelira’s magic flickered, exhausted but defiant, while Agnes clutched the shattered remnants of the pendant, her face etched with both awe and dread. The voice that had spoken earlier still echoed, warm and vast, but it carried a weight t

  • The White Wolf Luna   The Drum of Unmade Worlds

    The Veil was no longer a bridge, it was a battlefield. The silver threads that had once held it together now frayed at the edges, snapping under the weight of the relentless drumbeat that shook the air. Each pulse was a wound, a reminder that the seam they’d closed was only the first tear in a tapestry unraveling faster than they could mend. The crimson light was gone, but something darker deeper replaced it, a void-black pulse that seemed to drink the light from Selene’s eyes, Elyra’s scars, and the pendant still glowing in Agnes’s hands.Rowan stood at the forefront, his blade a beacon of silver against the encroaching dark. Selene and Elyra flanked him, their combined presence of moonlight and shadow stabilizing the trembling threads, but only just. Aelira’s magic wove through theirs, a net of moonlight holding back the chaos, while Agnes’s chant grew hoarse, her voice fraying like the Veil itself. The drumbeat wasn’t just sound it was intent, a will that pressed against their mind

  • The White Wolf Luna   The Thread of Forgotten Names

    The Veil trembled, a living thing caught in its own unraveling. Silver and crimson threads twisted around Rowan, Aelira, and Agnes, each pulse threatening to tear them apart. The mirrors that had once reflected countless lives now lay in shards, their fragments floating like ash in a storm. Each piece hummed with memory, with choices unmade, and every one of them cut deeper than the last.Rowan’s blade burned brighter, its silver light carving a path through the chaos. He swung at a shadow Aelira’s face, twisted with a cruel smirk but it dissolved into threads, only to reform behind him, its laughter a blade in his ears. “You can’t kill what you are,” it hissed, its voice a mockery of Aelira’s.“Then I’ll outlast you,” Rowan growled, spinning to meet it. His magic surged, a shield of silver flaring to push the shadow back, but it was like fighting smoke. The more he struck, the more the shadows multiplied, their forms flickering between his own, Aelira’s, and Agnes’s, each one a warpe

  • The White Wolf Luna   Across the Broken Bridge

    The light was not warm. It was sharp, like the edge of a blade pressed against the soul, cutting away the weight of the world they’d known. Rowan felt it first a sensation of falling without moving, of being stretched thin across a void that wasn’t empty but alive, thrumming with voices too numerous to name. Aelira’s hand gripped his, her fingers trembling but unyielding, and Agnes’s breath came in short, ragged gasps beside them. The pendant, still clutched in Agnes’s hand, burned with a radiance that seemed to pulse in time with their heartbeats.And then, the light receded.They stood—or floated, it was hard to tell—in a place that defied form. The ground beneath them was not earth but a shifting mosaic of silver and crimson threads, weaving and unweaving like a tapestry caught in a storm. Above, there was no sky, only a vast expanse of fractured mirrors, each reflecting a different moment, a different choice. Rowan saw himself in one, older, scarred, standing alone on a battlefiel

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