HALF-BLOOD LUNA

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the silence.

Not the peaceful kind. Not the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket on a winter morning. No, this was the heavy silence. The kind that sits on your chest before you've even moved a muscle. The kind that reminds you, before your first breath, that you don't quite belong in your own skin.

I turned my head on the pillow, staring at the pale morning light filtering through the curtains. Our room—Kane's and mine—was empty beside me. His side of the bed had gone cold hours ago. Alpha duties. They always came before me. Before us. Before whatever fragile thing existed between two people who were supposed to be mates but felt more like strangers sharing a roof.

I pushed myself up slowly, my bare feet touching the cold hardwood floor. The chill traveled up my legs, through my spine, settling somewhere deep in my chest where all my other unspoken fears lived.

*You're the Luna*, I told myself, the way I did every morning. *Act like one.*

But the mirror never let me forget the truth.

I walked toward the full-length mirror in the corner of our bedroom, the one with the ornate silver frame that Kane's mother had chosen decades ago. The glass was old, slightly warped at the edges, but it reflected everything with brutal honesty.

And today, it reflected a fraud.

My dark hair hung tangled around my shoulders, messy from another restless night. My hazel eyes—more green than brown in this light—stared back at me with the kind of exhaustion that sleep couldn't fix. I was twenty-two years old, but some mornings I felt ancient. Worn. Like a book that had been read too many times, the spine cracked, the pages thinning.

I turned sideways, studying my reflection. My body was lean, athletic from years of training. The curve of my hips, the flat plane of my stomach, the small scar above my left ribcage from a training accident when I was sixteen. From the outside, I looked like any other she-wolf. Strong. Capable. *Normal*.

But normal wasn't what ran through my veins.

I pressed my fingers to the inside of my wrist, feeling the pulse beneath my skin. It beat steadily—but differently than others. Faster. Slightly off-rhythm. And if you knew what to look for, if you caught my blood in the right light, it shimmered. A pale silver instead of deep red.

Half-blood.

The word tasted like ash in my mouth.

My mother had been human. My father, a wolf. Their union had been forbidden, a secret affair that ended with my mother pregnant and alone, and my father executed by his own Alpha for breaking the sacred law. I was the consequence. The living, breathing proof that some lines should never be crossed.

The Shadow Fang Pack had taken me in as an orphan, raised me out of obligation rather than love. They trained me, fed me, gave me a room—but they never let me forget what I was. The whispers followed me through hallways. The looks. The way some wolves would cross the street when they saw me coming, as if my half-blood nature might rub off on them like a disease.

And somehow, impossibly, I had become their Luna.

*How?* I still asked myself that question every single day.

The answer was always the same: Kane.

Alpha Kane Ashford. The most powerful wolf in our territory. Tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes the color of dark honey and a jaw that could cut glass. He had chosen me when no one else would. Had looked at the awkward half-blood girl with the strange-colored blood and said, *She's mine.*

The Goddess had confirmed it. The mate bond snapped into place between us like a steel trap, unbreakable and absolute.

But destiny and happiness were not the same thing.

I pulled on a simple gray sweater and black leggings, braiding my hair with practiced efficiency. The routine helped. The small, mundane tasks kept my mind from wandering into darker places. Brush teeth. Wash face. Apply the faintest touch of mascara so no one would ask if I was sick.

*You're the Luna*, I repeated. *You're the Luna. You're the Luna.*

A mantra. A prayer. A lie.

By the time I walked down the grand staircase of the pack house, I had constructed my mask perfectly. Back straight. Chin high. A soft, neutral smile that revealed nothing.

The pack house was alive with morning activity. Omegas hurried through the halls with trays of food. Warriors passed in pairs, their voices low as they discussed patrol rotations. The smell of bacon and fresh coffee drifted from the kitchen, and my stomach growled—but I ignored it. Eating could wait. Appearances couldn't.

"Good morning, Luna Sierra."

I turned to find Marcus, our Beta, approaching from the east wing. He was in his early thirties, built like a oak tree, with a shaved head and kind brown eyes. Marcus had been the first wolf in this pack to treat me like a person rather than a problem. I loved him for that. Trusted him more than almost anyone.

"Good morning, Marcus," I said, falling into step beside him. "You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep." He glanced at me sideways. "Same as you, by the look of it."

I didn't bother denying it. "Where's Kane?"

"Training grounds. He's been there since four." Marcus's voice carried no judgment, but I heard the unspoken question anyway. *Why aren't you with him? Why is your Alpha spending his mornings alone?*

I didn't have an answer. Or rather, I had too many answers, none of which I could say out loud.

*Because when we're alone, the silence is unbearable.*

*Because every time he looks at me, I see the question in his eyes: Did I make a mistake choosing her?*

*Because I'm terrified that one day he'll wake up and realize what the rest of the pack already knows—that I'm not enough.*

We walked through the dining hall, and the room quieted slightly as I passed. Wolves nodded respectfully. A few murmured greetings. But I felt their eyes on my back, their whispers barely concealed behind polite smiles.

*"She looks tired again."*

*"The Alpha's been distant lately. I wonder if..."*

*"Half-bloods can't hold a mate bond. Everyone knows that."*

My wolf stirred inside me, a low growl building in her chest. *Ignore them*, she said. *They're nothing.*

But she was wrong. They were everything. Their opinions, their judgments, their barely hidden pity—it all accumulated, layer after layer, until some days I could barely breathe beneath the weight.

I took my seat at the head of the long table, the chair beside me conspicuously empty. Kane's chair. My fingers traced the carved armrest absently.

"Luna?"

I looked up. Elara, my closest friend and an omega in the pack, stood before me with a cup of tea. Her red hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her freckled face was pinched with concern.

"You didn't eat again," she said quietly, setting the tea in front of me.

"I'm not hungry."

"Liar." She sat down beside me, lowering her voice. "Sierra, you can't keep doing this. You're losing weight. The pack notices."

"Let them notice."

"They're already talking. About you and Kane. About the tension." Elara's green eyes pleaded with me. "You need to talk to him."

"I've tried."

"Try harder."

I wrapped my hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into my palms. Elara didn't understand. She couldn't. She was a pureblood omega, born to two wolves, her place in the pack's hierarchy clear and uncontested. She had never woken up wondering if today would be the day someone finally said the words out loud: *You don't belong here.*

"He's been different lately," I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "More distant. He barely looks at me during meals. And at night..." I trailed off, heat rising to my cheeks.

"At night?"

"He sleeps on his side of the bed. He doesn't touch me. Not even..." I shook my head. "It's been three weeks, Elara. Three weeks since he's even kissed me."

Elara's expression shifted from concern to alarm. "That's not normal. Mates—"

"I know what mates are supposed to do." My voice came out sharper than intended. "I know the bond is supposed to pull us together, make us crave each other's touch. But what if the bond knows what I am? What if it's weakening because I'm... because I'm not—"

"Don't." Elara grabbed my hand. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. You are his mate. The Goddess chose you. Not some pureblood princess, not some powerful Alpha's daughter—*you*."

"And yet here I am. Alone. In a room full of people."

The dining hall had filled up while we spoke. Wolves laughed and argued and ate their breakfasts, the sounds of pack life swirling around us. I saw couples sitting close together, fingers intertwined. I saw a young mother nursing her pup while her mate rubbed her back. I saw affection. Connection. Everything that was missing from my own bond.

Where was Kane? Probably still at the training grounds, working himself to exhaustion rather than sitting beside me.

*Maybe he's avoiding you*, a cruel voice whispered in my mind. *Maybe he's realized his mistake.*

I shoved the thought away and forced myself to drink my tea.

The morning passed slowly. I attended to Luna duties—settling a dispute between two omegas, approving the weekly meal plans, meeting with the pack's healer about a shortage of medicinal herbs. All the while, my mind drifted to Kane. Where was he? What was he thinking? Did he miss me the way I missed him, or had he already started pulling away?

By noon, I found myself walking toward the training grounds.

The summer sun beat down on my shoulders as I crossed the open field. Warriors sparred in pairs, their bodies glistening with sweat. The sounds of grunts and thuds filled the air, along with the sharp commands of the training master.

And there, in the center of it all, was Kane.

He was shirtless, his bronze skin slick with sweat, every muscle in his body defined and straining as he fought against three warriors at once. His dark hair clung to his forehead. His jaw was set in concentration. And his eyes—those honey-colored eyes that