Luna's New Royal Bond

The scent of burning parchment hit me before I even pushed open the door to Griffin's diplomatic office. My heart quickened—something was wrong. I'd spent weeks securing those rare treaties from the Northern Packs, sacrificing my grandmother's moonstone pendant to convince the elderly Alpha to part with them. Griffin had been ecstatic when I'd told him I'd found them.

"Griffin?" I called, my voice echoing through the marble hallway of the Silver Creek Pack's diplomatic wing. "I have news about those additional treaties we discussed."

The door swung open silently under my hand. The scene before me froze my blood.

Emmy Ross, her copper hair cascading over her shoulders, lounged in Griffin's leather chair—my mate's chair. Her slender fingers dangled a rolled parchment over the crackling fireplace, watching with amusement as the edges curled and blackened.

"Just a little fire to warm things up," she purred, not bothering to look at me. "These old papers make excellent kindling, don't you think?"

My eyes widened in horror as I recognized the distinctive blue seal of the Northern Alliance Treaty—one of the rarest diplomatic artifacts I'd acquired for Griffin's collection. My grandmother's pendant had been a family heirloom, passed down through generations of Morrison women, but I'd given it without hesitation for these documents.

"Stop!" I lunged forward, but it was too late. Emmy dropped the treaty into the flames with a satisfied smile, watching as centuries of diplomatic history turned to ash.

"Oh, Maci," she said, as if just noticing me. "Griffin mentioned you might stop by. How... quaint of you to keep checking on him."

I stared at the fireplace where at least five of the rare treaties were already reduced to embers. My chest tightened as I recognized the distinctive markings of the Moonstone-Silver Creek Alliance document—the very one that had cemented our packs' relationship for generations.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, my Alpha bloodline surging through me, making my voice sharper than intended.

Emmy's eyes gleamed with malicious delight. "Just making space for some more... practical decorations." She gestured to the wall where Griffin's prized diplomatic collection had once hung. Now it displayed modern art pieces and photographs of her and Griffin at various pack functions.

The door behind me opened, and Griffin's familiar scent washed over me—pine and sandalwood, now tainted with Emmy's cloying perfume.

"Maci," he said, his tone cool and distant. "I see you've met Emmy."

"Met her?" I repeated, gesturing wildly at the fireplace. "She's burning the treaties! The ones I got from Alpha Nordstrom—you know what I had to give up for those!"

Griffin's expression hardened. "I'm aware. And I've decided they're no longer necessary for my diplomatic strategy."

I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. "Not necessary? Griffin, these are historical artifacts! They've been in the Northern Alliance for centuries!"

"Exactly my point," he said, moving to stand beside Emmy, his hand resting possessively on her shoulder. "They're relics of the past. Emmy has shown me a more modern approach to pack relations."

I felt something crack inside me as he continued, his voice taking on that diplomatic smoothness I once admired.

"Maci, I've chosen Emmy as my mate. Your... obsession with dusty old artifacts is charming in its way, but Emmy understands the practical side of pack politics."

The room seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "You chose... her? But we're fated mates, Griffin. The Moon Goddess—"

"The Moon Goddess gives us choices too," he interrupted coldly. "And I choose Emmy."

I stumbled backward, unable to process his betrayal. My eyes caught on something glinting around Emmy's ankle—a small white wolf pup, curled at her feet.

"What's this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Emmy's smile widened as she nudged the pup forward. "My little Snowball. Isn't she adorable? Griffin just loves her."

The pup yawned, revealing a dazzling collar around its neck—silver inlaid with moonstones that caught the firelight in familiar patterns.

My breath caught in my throat as I recognized the distinctive Morrison Luna crown pattern—the sacred symbol of my family's lineage, passed down through generations of Morrison Lunas.

"That collar," I whispered, my fingers trembling as I reached toward it.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" Emmy preened. "Griffin had it specially made as a romantic gesture. The silverwork is exquisite, don't you think?"

My vision blurred with tears as the truth crashed over me like a physical blow. Griffin hadn't just rejected our mate bond—he'd desecrated my family's most sacred heirloom, melting down centuries of Morrison heritage into a decorative collar for Emmy's pet.

"Where did you get the silver for this?" I asked, my voice deadly quiet.

Griffin shrugged, not meeting my eyes. "It was just sitting in the pack vaults. Some old ceremonial piece. I thought it would make a more... practical use this way."

The Morrison Luna crown—the physical embodiment of my family's power and protection—reduced to a trinket for a wolf that wasn't even hers by blood. In that moment, something inside me hardened into cold, implacable resolve.