Claimed by the Blood Moon Alpha as His Fated Luna

For six years, I bled in the shadows for my Alpha mate, Liam.

He told me his wolf was crippled. I believed him.

On the eve of his ascension, I learned it was all a lie.

His wolf was never broken—he just didn't want to get his hands dirty.

Worse, he was planning to spend our mating night with a stray Omega named Elara.

Desperate to prove my worth, I rode into the dark forest to hunt the sacred Shadow Beast alone.

Liam followed me.

Not to help.

To steal my kill.

He put a silver arrow through my thigh and left me to bleed out in a ravine.

When I dragged myself back to the Pack a day later, they were already celebrating him as a hero.

Not a single soul had mourned me.

Then the terrifying Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack kicked down our doors

and declared me his true fated mate.

This time, I did not look back.

Chapter 1

Seraphina POV:

The cobblestone square of our Pack was not so much lit as it was scalded by the unsteady glare of a hundred torches.

Tonight was the eve of the Moon Goddess festival. The night air was clogged with the fumes of roasted meats and the cloying, sweet miasma of mead.

For as long as I could remember, the Pack was everything. It was the only shield we had against the feral, mateless wolves we called Rogues. And tomorrow, Liam was supposed to inherit that shield. He was taking the title of Alpha.

But our ancient laws dictated that an incoming Alpha must personally hunt and kill a Shadow Beast in the dark forest to prove his strength to the Moon Goddess.

For the past six years, I had been the one pulling the bowstring and shedding blood in the mud for him.

Six years ago, Liam claimed his Inner Wolf—the primal spirit that lives inside every werewolf—was severely injured during a Rogue attack. He said he could no longer undergo the bone-breaking transformation of the Shift, nor could he hunt.

Because I believed we were fated by the Goddess to be together, I suppressed my own pride as a top-tier Warrior. I became his shadow, his sword, and his secret provider.

I walked toward the edge of the square, where my older sister Freya was laughing with her Beta husband. As second-in-command, the Betas managed the Pack's daily affairs. I needed to ask her husband a favor. I needed him to subtly herd a weakened Shadow Beast toward Liam's hunting path tomorrow, just to keep up appearances.

"Freya," I called out softly, stepping into the torchlight.

Freya turned, her cheeks flushed from the mead. She waved her hand dismissively, her corset rustling.

"Oh, Seraphina. Still planning the hunt for your poor, crippled mate?" she slurred, a mocking smile on her lips.

Before I could answer, she leaned in, her breath reeking of alcohol.

"You are so blind, sister. You think his wolf is broken? Liam's wolf is the most massive, terrifying beast in this entire territory. He just doesn't want to get his hands dirty for you."

A chill, sharp as needle-ice, pierced my blood. The torches seemed to shrink into faint, distant embers.

I turned on my heel and marched straight toward Liam's stone manor at the center of the Pack lands.

As I reached his heavy oak door, I paused. I didn't knock.

Instead, I tuned into the Mind-Link. The telepathic web connecting the Pack was usually a low hum of background noise. But tonight, Liam had left his mental channel slightly open.

Make sure you Betas claim every single Shadow Beast in the eastern quadrant, Liam's voice echoed in my mind, dripping with arrogance. I want her to come back with her quiver empty and her hands stained with nothing but mud.

A Beta's voice chuckled in response. But Alpha, won't that delay your Marking ceremony with her again? She has waited six years to be your Luna.

That is exactly the point, Liam sneered through the link. I need to delay the ceremony. I want to spend the festival night with Elara.

An iron band seemed to tighten around my ribs, squeezing the very air from my lungs.

But what about Seraphina's bloodline? the Beta asked nervously. They say she carries the blood of the White Wolf.

The White Wolf was a myth—a rare descendant of the Moon Goddess herself, possessing unimaginable power.

Liam's laughter boomed in my head, harsh and cruel. A White Wolf? Don't be stupid. She is just a brute. She smells like dirt and blood. She is rough, unrefined, and entirely disposable. As long as I keep playing the victim, she will wait like a dumb, loyal hound.

I stood frozen on the stone steps. My hands curled into fists until my nails bit into my palms, drawing warm blood.

I did not kick the door down. I did not scream.

The betrayal tasted like ash in my mouth. I simply turned away and walked toward the Elder's tower.

Elder Silas was my father. He was the keeper of the old laws, a man whose word could overrule even an Alpha in matters of tradition.

I pushed open the heavy wooden doors of his study. He was sitting behind his mahogany desk, counting sovereigns.

"Father," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I am no longer hunting the Shadow Beast for Liam."

Silas's head remained bowed. The scratching of his quill in the ledger did not pause for even a half-beat. His gaze was nailed to the coin he was turning between his thumb and forefinger, utterly ignoring the blood from my palm that had begun to drip onto the polished mahogany.

Instead, a greedy smile spread across his wrinkled face.

"Excellent," he said, slamming his ledger shut. "Then you have failed your duty to your future Alpha."

He stood up and walked over to a glass cabinet. He reached inside and pulled out the Moon-Baton.

The Moon-Baton was a staff carved from ancient white oak, topped with a glowing moonstone. It was the ultimate symbol of the Luna's honor and authority.

"Since you are so selfish and useless," Silas announced coldly, "I am giving the Moon-Baton to Elara."

I stared at him, my breathing hitching.

Elara was a Stray Omega. Omegas are the lowest ranking wolves, weak and submissive. She had wandered into our territory a year ago, crying and begging for shelter.

"You are giving the legacy of our ancestors to an outsider?" I whispered, a tremor of rage vibrating in my throat.

"Elara knows her place," Silas spat, his eyes gleaming with a cold, mercantile calculation. "She is soft. She is malleable. You, Seraphina, cast too long a shadow. A Pack cannot be ruled by an Alpha who is constantly outshined by his Luna's combat skills. Giving her the Moon-Baton secures Liam's authority, and by extension, mine."

A bitter memory flashed in my mind.

Six years ago, Liam and I had prayed beneath the sacred Moon Tree, asking the Goddess to bless us as Mates.

Silas had caught us. He said we violated the ancestral rules by praying before we were of age.

His punishment was swift. He locked me in the silver dungeon.

Silver is the only substance on earth that can truly harm a werewolf. It burns our flesh like acid and poisons our blood.

I starved in that silver cage for seven days, my skin blistering against the bars, while Elara now broke every rule and was rewarded with the Luna's staff.

I looked at the beautiful silk dress draped over the chair in the corner of the study.

It was the Luna coronation gown. I recognized every stitch.

Now, Silas was packing it into a wooden box to send to Elara.

I said nothing. The scar tissue on my fingertips throbbed once, a quiet pulse of memory I had learned to ignore.

The heavy door creaked open behind me.

Liam walked in. He was leaning heavily on a cane, dragging his left leg in a pathetic, exaggerated limp.

"Seraphina, my love," he pleaded, his face twisted into a mask of fake sorrow. "Please. Just wait for me for one more moon cycle. My wolf is almost healed."

Several Betas and Warriors had gathered in the hallway, drawn by the commotion.

"Just be generous, Seraphina," a Warrior muttered. "He is injured. A true Pack member sacrifices for her Alpha."

I turned slowly, looking at the faces of the people I had bled for. I had fought off Rogue ambushes to keep these very people safe.

Now, they looked at me like I was the villain.

A wave of nausea rose from my gut, and the foul taste of iron filled my throat, forcing me to swallow hard to keep from being sick.

I looked Liam dead in the eyes and shook my head.

"No." I was done being their hound. Tonight, I would become the hunter.