All Chapters of My Fictional Alpha and Me being his Luna for real?!: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

(Penny’s POV) I’ve always thought life should come with a soundtrack. Something dramatic, maybe a low cello hum when the critical moments happen, or a swelling violin when the hero finally notices the girl. But my life? It’s more like the generic hold music you get when you call customer service, pleasant enough, but you’re just waiting for it to end. My name is Penelope Jones. Everyone calls me Penny, probably because “Penelope” sounds like someone who owns a yacht and knows which fork to use for salad. I do not own a boat. I own approximately seven pairs of scrubs, a coffee maker that’s on its last legs, and a laptop that’s seen more werewolf smut than any piece of technology should have to endure. I’m twenty-four. I work twelve-hour shifts on the med-surg floor at St. Mary’s General. I like the predictability of it. Take vitals, hang an IV, and chart everything twice because God forbid someone sues because you forgot to document that the patient passed gas at 14:32. I’m good at

(Penny’s POV)I should have kept running.I should have found a thicker cluster of trees, a hollow log, anything that would swallow me whole and let me disappear until this nightmare decided to spit me back into my armchair with the laptop still warm on my lap.But my legs were jelly. My lungs felt like they’d been scrubbed with steel wool. And the howls, God, the howls, were everywhere now. Not just behind me. Not just ahead. They wrapped around me like smoke, coming from every direction at once. I pressed my back against the rough bark of an ancient pine and tried to make myself small. Invisible. Nonexistent.It didn’t work.Through the gaps in the branches, I could see the clearing I’d stumbled out of minutes ago. The village. The war.I shouldn’t have looked.But I did.The scene was worse up close, even from this distance. The dark gray and black wolves, Silverfang, I knew their colors from my own manuscript, moved like liquid shadow. Coordinated. Ruthless. Their alpha, a massive

(Penny’s POV) The cave was smaller than it looked from the outside. Roots dangled like skeletal fingers from the low ceiling, brushing the top of my head every time I shifted. The air was damp and cool, smelling of wet earth and iron, his blood, mostly. Moonlight (or whatever weird silvery light passed for it here) slipped through the narrow opening in thin, pale ribbons, just enough to see by without a flashlight. I sat with my back against the opposite wall, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them like that would keep the panic from spilling out. Genesis hadn’t moved since I’d dragged him in here. His breathing had evened out, slow, deep, the kind of rhythm that said his body was already working on repairs. Werewolf healing. I’d written about it enough times to know the basics: accelerated metabolism, rapid cell regeneration, the works. Still, watching it happen in real time was something else. His chest rose. Fell. Rose again. Every few minutes, a faint tremor ran throug

(Penny’s POV)I barely slept. Every creak of the wooden beams made me bolt upright, convinced claws were about to rip through the door. Every distant howl, real or imagined, sent my heart racing all over again.By the time the first gray light seeped through the cracks in the boards, I was already sitting on the edge of the cot, backpack between my feet, staring at the sliver of dawn like it owed me answers.Mara came for me just as the roosters started crowing. She carried a tin mug of something hot and a heel of dark bread wrapped in cloth.“Eat quick,” she said, voice low. “Eldric wants you gone before the village wakes proper.”I nodded, took the mug, herbal tea, bitter but warm, and tore into the bread. It was dense, chewy, nothing like the fluffy sandwich bread back home, but it filled the hollow in my stomach.“Thank you,” I said between bites. “For everything.”She studied me with tired eyes. “You’re young. Too young for this world. Whatever brought you here… it’s cruel.”I sw

(Penny’s POV)They didn’t leave me alone for long.After Kael’s dramatic exit, the guards dragged a wooden tub into the hall, right in front of my cage, like I was part of the evening entertainment. Two women followed: older, silent, faces blank as stone. They carried buckets of steaming water, bundles of rough cloth, and a dress that looked like it belonged in a Renaissance fair, deep crimson wool, long sleeves, high neck, embroidered with silver thread at the cuffs and hem.“Strip,” one of them said. No emotion. Just fact.I stared at her. “Excuse me?”The guard outside the bars rattled the lock. “You heard her. Bath. Now. Or we do it for you.”My skin crawled.I glanced around the hall. A dozen eyes, guards, servants, a few warriors lounging near the hearth, were already watching. Waiting.No privacy. No mercy.I turned my back to them, as much as the bars allowed. My fingers shook so badly I fumbled the zipper on my hoodie twice before it gave. I peeled it off, then the leggings,