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Claiming His Luna Novel Cover

Claiming His Luna

Born a servant in the powerful MoonStone pack, Cercei has learned to survive in silence—enduring the cruelty of the Alpha’s daughter, Vienna, and hiding her beauty behind obedience. But when the annual Moon Ball arrives, her world shatters in one catastrophic night. A spilled drink. A cruel man’s desire. And a sudden, violent punishment that awakens the beast within her. Cercei’s first shift into her wolf form leads her to a mysterious white wolf—one with blood-red eyes and a presence that ignites something primal in her soul. What Cercei doesn’t know is that her fate is tied to Lucian Red, the fearsome Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack—known to many as the King in the North. And he’s been waiting, slowly unraveling as the bond calls to him. When destiny collides with secrets, betrayal, and blood, will Cercei rise from servant to Luna—or be crushed by the weight of the past?
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Chapter 4

Cercei’s POV

I awoke with the first rays of dawn, my heart brimming with delight and enthusiasm. Still caught in the clutches of sleep, I yawned and rubbed my eyes, only to find my parents standing before me, their presence an unexpected charm.

“Goodness gracious,” I gasped, clutching my chest in surprise while my father chuckled and settled himself on the edge of my bed.

“Happy birthday, my dear Chèri,” he murmured, gently kissing my head before enveloping me in his warm embrace.

A radiant smile graced my face as I reciprocated the loving hug.

“Happy birthday, my darling,” my mother chimed in, joining the tender embrace. However, the intensity of their affection made me flinch momentarily.

“You’re squeezing the life out of me,” I teased, prompting laughter from both of them as they released me from their clasp.

“We have a little surprise for you,” my mother announced, extending a small wooden box adorned with a delicately carved crescent moon.

As I gingerly opened the box, my eyes beheld a vintage treasure—a rounded necklace reminiscent of bygone eras. Its centrepiece was a captivating blue, emerald gemstone encircled by an array of cryptic foreign languages and enigmatic symbols that eluded my comprehension.

“Mamà,” I breathed in awe, my voice barely a whisper.

“It belonged to my mother and her mother before her. Now, it is time for you to inherit it, my beloved Cercei,” she revealed, her voice tinged with sentimentality.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, I embraced them both, and then my father extended his hand. Placing the necklace delicately into his palm, I turned around. Then, with the utmost care, he fastened the heirloom around my neck, its weight a comforting presence against my skin.

“It suits you,” my mother uttered, her voice filled with admiration. I responded to her kind words with a gentle smile, grateful for her approval.

“Make sure you get ready, my dear. Today is a momentous occasion for our pack,” my father reminded me, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

“Oh, the ball!” I exclaimed, a surge of excitement coursing through me. Without wasting a moment, I leaped out of bed and snatched my clothes from their resting place. The sound of my parents’ laughter filled the air, their amusement echoing through the room.

“Have a splendid day, chèri!” Papà called out, his words imbued with warmth and well wishes.

Finally, the day I had eagerly anticipated had arrived—the grand ball and my very own birthday. A perpetual smile adorned my face, undeterred even by Vienna’s constant grumbling. I cheerfully tended to my duties and dutifully followed her instructions. Today was simply the epitome of perfection, a day that no one could possibly spoil.

As I stood beside Maria, washing the dishes, her voice reached me in a soft whisper. “Happy birthday, Wolfie.”

I turned to her with gratitude shining in my eyes. “Thank you, Maria.”

Her expression hinted at a secret, a gift she had yet to present. “I’ll give you my present later.”

A spark of curiosity ignited within me. “You have a gift for me?”

A mischievous smile danced on Maria’s lips. “Of course, I do, you silly girl,” she chuckled, leaving me eager with anticipation.

“I can’t wait to see it,” I eagerly replied, my curiosity piqued by Maria’s promise.

However, before Maria could respond, Madàm Cece abruptly interjected, interrupting our conversation. “Maria, why are you here? Return to the garden,” she commanded.

Maria made a face behind Madàm Cece’s back before obediently departing.

I shook my head, amused by her playful defiance. At times, she could be rather childlike.

“Back to work, Cercei,” Madàm Cece grumbled, her tone laced with irritation.

I nodded obediently and returned to my tasks. Madàm Cecè had served the Crescents long before my parents, and her grumpiness and bad temper seemed to intensify as she aged.

“I expect all of you to behave impeccably tonight. The consequences for misbehaviour will be severe,” she warned, her gaze lingering on me as she uttered her final words.

I was well-versed in keeping my head down, a skill drilled into me by Vienna. She had always insisted that no one would desire even a glimpse of my supposedly repulsive visage. Thus, I grew up plagued by insecurities and doubts, but with time, I came to realise that Vienna had merely sought to deter me from stealing her spotlight.

Not long after, the distinguished guests began to arrive in their splendid carriages and vehicles. The women adorned themselves in breathtaking designer gowns, while the men exuded elegance in their tailored suits. I gazed at them in awe, captivated by the allure of such a lavish existence.

“Woah,” I gasped, unable to contain my awe when Lady Shire made her grand entrance. Clad in a form-fitting gold bodycon dress that accentuated her graceful figure, she walked with an air of confidence. The dress revealed a tantalising slit, exposing her perfectly straight legs, and her hair cascaded in bouncy waves as she moved.

Lady Shire was Vienna’s cousin from her mother’s side. Unlike Vienna, Lady Shire possessed a kind heart and exuded polite charm. She had frequented the mansion during her childhood, but we hadn’t seen her in years.

Monsieur Remus warmly embraced his niece upon her arrival, and Vienna’s face lit up with joy at the sight of her cousin. I observed the heartfelt reunion from a distance when Maria called out to me, pulling my attention away.

“Where were you? Madam Cecè was looking for you,” Maria exclaimed, her voice tinged with urgency.

“Sorry, I was just watching—” I began to explain.

“We’re not here to watch, Cercei. We’re here to serve. Come on,” she interrupted, tugging me towards the bustling kitchen. In her hand, she held a crimson mask, which she handed to me. Once I had donned the mask, she placed a tray laden with drinks into my hands, and we made our way to the ballroom.

As I entered the enchanting space, my gaze swept across the room. Soft music floated through the air, mingling with the hum of conversation and laughter. Some guests were twirling gracefully on the dance floor, their movements perfectly synchronised. Head bowed, I navigated the room, discreetly offering drinks to the attendees.

Suddenly, Monsieur Remus commanded everyone’s attention. The room fell into a hushed silence as he spoke, his voice resonating with authority and warmth.

“My dear friends, it is my utmost pleasure to welcome you all to my humble abode. Tonight, we gather to celebrate our shared history and prepare for a future brimming with promise. May we forge alliances that will fortify our power and strength as the esteemed Lords and Ladies of the North and West. Your presence is deeply appreciated, and I sincerely hope you enjoy the festivities.”

Applause erupted, filling the room with a wave of appreciation. After his speech, the guests resumed their conversations, the ballroom alive with animated chatter.

“This party is truly remarkable. Vienna has impeccable taste,” I overheard two ladies whispering to each other, their voices filled with admiration.

“You there, servant girl,” one of them called out to me. Nervously, I approached, uncertain of what to expect.

Relief washed over me as she plucked a glass of wine from the tray I held and continued conversing with her friend. With a small bow, I excused myself and moved on.

Serving at a grand ball wasn’t as dreadful as I had anticipated. In fact, it allowed me to revel in the melodic strains of music and witness the presence of influential leaders from various packs. Moreover, it was a glimpse into a world of power and prestige.

Once my tray was emptied, I made my way back to the kitchen, ready to replenish it and resume my duties.

“There, go to that table over there. They are running out of drinks,” Madam Cecè instructed, handing me yet another tray and pointing towards the central table.

“Yes, Madam,” I replied dutifully, my arms already aching from the strain of carrying the heavy trays. Maintaining focus was crucial; the last thing I wanted was to drop the drinks accidentally.

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