⸻
Training sessions were brutal.
Especially when Selene led them.
The morning sun filtered through the pine trees, golden and gentle—but there was nothing gentle about the warrior ring where Luna was currently sprawled on the dirt, her ribs aching from a poorly placed kick.
"Honestly, Luna, are you even trying?" Selene sneered, towering over her. She stood with one hand on her hip, the other holding a short practice staff that glinted where the sunlight kissed its polished wood. "You should thank me for helping you train. You clearly need it."
The other she-wolves standing in the circle laughed, some loudly, others nervously.
Luna gritted her teeth and pushed herself off the ground. Her palms were scraped and her knees were bruised, but her pride hurt far worse.
"I am trying," she said quietly, brushing dirt off her tunic.
Selene clicked her tongue and circled her like a hawk.
"Trying? Darling, that wasn't trying. That was flailing. And your stance—goddess help us. Even the omegas have more grace than you."
Luna said nothing. She was used to this.
Used to being the target.
Selene's voice grew louder, ensuring the nearby warriors and elders could hear. "I don't know why the elders insist on you joining these sessions. You'll never be a real member of this pack."
The words struck harder than a blow.
Luna kept her eyes down, jaw clenched.
"Leave her alone, Selene," a voice muttered from the edge of the circle. It belonged to Mira, a younger she-wolf who had occasionally shared food with Luna behind the mess tent. But the girl shrank back when Selene's sharp gaze snapped toward her.
"Oh?" Selene said smoothly. "Did the runt charm you with her sad little eyes and orphan sob story?" She returned to Luna and jabbed the practice staff into the ground, inches from Luna's bare foot. "Let's be honest, here. The only reason you're still breathing is because Elder Lyra convinced the pack not to send you away."
"Selene, enough," barked one of the trainers, Ryven, clearly uncomfortable now that others were beginning to watch. But he didn't interfere further.
He never did.
No one did.
Selene backed off with a smirk and gave Luna a final glance, full of disdain.
"Know your place, Luna. Some of us were born to lead. Others," she said, turning her back, "are just accidents waiting to be erased."
⸻
Later, Luna limped to the creek that bordered the eastern edge of the pack's lands. She sank to her knees beside the cold stream, letting her bruised hands soak in the water as she tried to hold back the sting in her eyes.
The ache in her chest wasn't physical. It was the old, quiet pain that never quite healed.
You don't belong.
The words echoed through her like a chant, louder than the water rushing past.
She sat in silence until a soft rustle in the brush behind her made her flinch. But it was only Mira, the young she-wolf from earlier.
"I'm sorry," Mira said, sitting down beside her. "I shouldn't have said anything back there. I just… hate the way she talks to you."
Luna shrugged. "She always has."
Mira hesitated before speaking. "Do you think she's jealous of you?"
That earned a short, bitter laugh from Luna.
"She's the Alpha's chosen mate. I sleep under a pine tree with a torn blanket. What's there to be jealous of?"
Mira's lips pressed into a line. "Some wolves aren't satisfied even when they have everything."
Luna didn't reply. She didn't know how. But the words stayed with her.
Maybe it wasn't jealousy that made Selene cruel. Maybe it was fear.
Fear of being threatened by something she couldn't understand.
⸻
Later that day, Luna found herself summoned—not by the elders, but by Elder Lyra herself, a rare occurrence.
The elder sat beneath the shade of the Sacred Pine, her silvery hair braided with feathers and stones, her eyes ancient and unreadable. Luna approached hesitantly, head bowed.
"You called for me?"
Elder Lyra motioned for her to sit.
"I heard what happened during training."
"I'm fine," Luna said automatically.
"That's not what I asked." The elder's eyes narrowed. "Why do you let her talk to you like that?"
Luna's stomach twisted. "Because no one stops her."
Lyra's expression softened, but only slightly. "Selene is the daughter of two noble bloodlines. She was raised knowing her role as future Luna. She believes strength means domination."
"Then she's wrong," Luna said, before she could think better of it.
Lyra raised an eyebrow, amused. "Yes. She is. But strength comes in many forms. And so does weakness."
Luna said nothing.
Lyra leaned forward. "You think you were born weak. That you were cast out by the goddess. But you were placed here for a reason."
"Everyone says that," Luna murmured. "But no one says what reason."
"The goddess doesn't shout," Lyra said, "she whispers. Your path is not hers. Not Selene's. It is your own. You may not see it yet, but when the time comes… you must be brave enough to walk it."
Luna left the meeting even more confused than she'd entered it. But a seed had been planted.
What if her place wasn't beside Selene?
What if it was beyond her?
⸻
By evening, the gossip had spread like wildfire through the dens.
"She'll never survive the Ceremony," one warrior muttered at the mess tent.
"What if she does get a mate? Who would want that as their other half?" whispered another.
"She's just a distraction. The Elders coddle her."
"She's a liability. No wolf will fight beside her."
Luna passed by them unnoticed, listening, absorbing, filing it all away. The wolves of Moonshadow didn't just dislike her—they didn't trust her. Some feared her presence was a curse. Others just wanted her gone.
But none of them saw her.
Not truly.
She had spent her life surviving by staying quiet, staying small.
But what if she didn't stay small?
What if the next time Selene struck her, she struck back?
The thought sent a ripple of something electric through her chest.
Power.
Not the kind Selene wielded with her status and bloodline.
But something older.
Something earned.
Something born in the shadows.
⸻
That night, Luna curled beneath her pine tree shelter and stared up at the sliver of moon. Her ribs still ached. Her palms were raw. Her spirit felt like cracked porcelain.
But her mind?
Sharper than ever.
She didn't know what the Moon Ceremony would bring.
Didn't know if a mate awaited her—or more pain.
But she knew this:
She would stand tall.
Even if she stood alone.