The Nameless Luna
“Yes. Some of you already know her. She is Serena, and she is my fated mate. She is the future Luna of this pack.”
The silence that followed was heavy, but then, as if on cue, the pack erupted into cheers. Warriors slapped each other on the back, and even the injured managed to smile. For a pack, a mate meant hope—a Luna meant stability, an heir, and growth.
“Serena will lead beside me,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. “And we will protect her at all costs. She is our future.”
The warriors raised their fists, their voices blending into a single chant: “For our Luna! For Crescent Grove!”
Bab Populer