Lucien
“Mother, are we truly being forced to bind ourselves to Lyra tomorrow?” The question slipped past my lips before I could mask the tremor in my chest.
I stood behind my mother’s chair, my fingers working into the rigid knots along her shoulders, but truth be told, I was doing it far less to soothe her tension than to hide the fact that my own hands were shaking.
My brothers sat opposite us, equally rigid, equally miserable.
We had already given Selene our word, swearing to her in private that we would fix this catastrophe.
No matter what ancient traditions demanded, no matter what divine order the elders invoked, our hearts belonged to her—and her alone.
“Yes, Mother, we don’t love her!” Ronan whined, sounding far younger than a crowned Alpha had any right to sound.
He cradled one of Mother’s hands in his, filing her nails with careful, practiced strokes—his nervous habit whenever his composure began to fracture.
But even his usual cocky energy had vanished.
His shoulders slumped inward, his brow furrowed as if the weight of the whole territory were crushing his chest.
Kael leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his amber eyes burning with an intense fire that straddled the line between raw dominance and sheer desperation.
“Can’t you reason with Father?” he pressed, his voice low and raspy.
“We have the power to override these old customs!
We are the ruling Alphas now.
Our authority should count for something.”
A thick, agonizing silence settled over the chamber—so heavy that the crackle of the hearth sounded deafening.
My mother went rigid under my hands before letting out a slow, shuddering sigh that seemed to drain the life from her frame.
“There is nothing left for me to say, my sons,” she murmured, and the quiet finality in her voice cut deeper than any physical blow.
“You are Alphas.
It is your duty to lead by example.”
The words struck us like a sudden frost.
Lead by example.
The iron rule our parents had hammered into our minds since childhood, whether we wanted to hear it or not.
Ronan’s hands froze, the nail file hovering midair.
“I have no desire to be an example if it costs me Selene,” he muttered, turning his face away in bitter embarrassment.
Mother turned in her seat, cupping his jaw with gentle fingers.
“Oh, my boy,” she murmured softly.
“The Moon Goddess assigns us fated mates for a purpose.
This is neither a curse nor a betrayal.
It is simply your path.”
Kael surged to his feet, pacing the length of the rug.
Every heavy strike of his boots against the floorboards echoed like thunder, matching the tempest raging behind his eyes.
“Then fate is mistaken this time!” he spat, his voice sharp with anger.
“It has to be wrong.
We love Selene.
Does our devotion mean nothing?!”
His voice cracked on the final word.
Seeing Kael—the fiercest, most unyielding of the three of us—breaking under the weight of this decree rattled me to my very core.
Mother rose gracefully, stepping into his path to halt his pacing.
She placed a firm hand over his forearm, forcing him to meet her gaze.
“If you shatter tradition today,” she stated with icy precision, choosing every phrase like a sharp blade, “then tomorrow, your pack will break the laws you lay down for them.
And when they defy your command, you will lack the moral right to punish them.”
The chamber fell dead quiet.
Kael swallowed hard, his throat working.
Ronan stared blankly at the floorboards, his jaw clenched so tight the bone paled.
And inside me, a cold, unyielding weight settled over my ribs.
A grim realization took root…
She isn’t wrong.
But knowing that didn’t make the poison taste any sweeter.
Mother reached over, squeezing my fingers tightly.
“My Alphas,” she whispered, her eyes dark with sorrow.
“Love is a formidable force, but duty is heavier still.
A true ruler learns to carry both.”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes—tears I refused to let fall.
Not here.
Not now.
Because tomorrow—whether we welcomed it or wished for death—was coming for us all.
Mother turned and glided out of the room, her footsteps dying away down the quiet corridor.
The heavy click of the door closing behind her felt like a lock snapping shut on our freedom.
For a long minute, no one spoke.
No one dared to draw a full breath.
It was as though her departure had stripped away the last thin shield keeping our rage contained.
“This is utter madness!” Kael exploded the second her presence faded.
His voice slammed off the stone arches, jagged and dark.
He wasn’t shouting at us; he was railing against the universe, against tradition, against the Goddess herself, against the cruel irony choking the life out of us.
“I couldn’t agree more!” Ronan barked, slamming his fist down onto the armrest of his chair with enough force to splinter the wood.
His chest heaved in ragged gasps, his eyes flashing a fierce crimson that made the large room feel suffocatingly small.
“Even if we are dragged to the altar with Lyra…” He cut himself off, his jaw twitching violently, before turning a dark, dangerous glare in my direction.
“My disgust for her will only grow with every passing day.”
He practically spat the vow, yet despite the raw venom, a faint hesitation wavered in his tone.
There was a hollow ring beneath his voice—as though he were trying to convince himself of a lie he desperately needed to believe.
Kael let out a dark scoff, nodding in agreement as he resumed his frantic pacing.
I simply released a heavy breath, dragging a palm down my face.
Perhaps Ronan was still clinging to the foolish hope that something might intervene before nightfall.
Perhaps he feared accepting reality far more than the ceremony itself.
As for me…
the future was already carved in stone.
My devotion belonged strictly to Selene—to her sharp wit, her beauty, and her unyielding pride.
The world could burn to ashes around me, and my loyalty wouldn’t flicker.
If archaic laws forced Lyra into our bed, then those same laws would eventually pay the price for it.
I had zero qualms about stripping Lyra of her Luna standing when the right moment arrived.
Not through physical violence, but by stripping away her title, her authority, and every shred of prestige that tied her name to ours.
She was a temporary nuisance.
A mere placeholder.
An inconvenience to be tolerated…
for the time being.
Let her enjoy the illusion of power for a brief second.
Let her put on the crown, bask in the forced bows of the pack, and pretend she belongs beside us.
Because deep in my soul, I already knew the truth:
Her reign would be brutally short.
The very moment we reclaimed absolute control over our fate, she would be completely erased.