After My Alpha Rejected Me for a Fake Luna

The satin of the ceremonial dress felt like a vice around my ribs, constricting my breath until black spots danced in my vision. My hands, trembling uncontrollably, clutched the edge of the vanity table. I stared into the mirror, but the face staring back wasn’t the confident Luna of the Silver Moon Pack. It was a frightened girl, haunted by shadows only she could see.

“Luna?”

The deep, rumbling voice made me jump, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I spun around, pressing my back against the table, only to relax when I saw my father, Alpha Garrett. He stood in the doorway, his massive frame filling the space, his eyes soft with a worry that aged him ten years.

“We don’t have to do this, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur he reserved only for me. “Say the word, and I’ll take you home. To hell with the Dark Claw Pack. To hell with the alliance.”

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. My wolf, dormant and silent for three years, offered no comfort. Just a hollow emptiness where my spirit should be. But then I thought of Isaac. Isaac, who had spent the last three years whispering promises through closed doors. Isaac, who suppressed his crushing Alpha aura just so I could breathe in his presence without screaming.

“No, Dad,” I whispered, forcing my trembling fingers to smooth down the white fabric of my dress. “Isaac… he’s different. He’s my safe harbor. Once he marks me, the bond will settle. I’ll be fixed.”

I reached up to touch the necklace at my throat. It was a silver chain with a modest, cloudy crystal—a replica of the Moon Stone, the heirloom of the Dark Claw Pack’s Luna. Isaac had told me the original was being polished, too delicate for the ceremony’s chaos. It felt cold against my skin, but I wore it like a shield.

Dad sighed, stepping forward to kiss my forehead, careful not to let his power overwhelm me. “If he hurts you, Luna, I will burn this world down.”

I didn't think he would have to.

The ceremony hall was a cavernous nightmare of noise and scent. Hundreds of wolves from allied packs lined the aisle. The air was thick with the musk of unmated males, a scent that usually sent me spiraling into a panic attack. I kept my eyes locked on the dais at the end of the hall.

Isaac stood there.

He looked magnificent in his ceremonial black suit, his shoulders broad, his jaw set. But as I walked toward him, my father’s arm the only thing keeping me upright, Isaac didn’t smile. His golden eyes were cold, devoid of the warmth he had shown me in private. He didn't reach for me.

When we reached the steps, my father reluctantly let me go. I stepped up, my legs shaking so badly I thought I might collapse. I waited for him to take my