
My Alpha Chose His Fake Luna Over Me
Chapter 4
I sat with Kairo in his quarters as the afternoon light bled through the window. My hands were folded in my lap. His were flat on the table. Neither of us had spoken in several minutes.
Finally, I said it.
"We may need to leave."
Kairo didn't move. His blind eyes stayed fixed on the wall past my shoulder. But I saw his jaw shift. Just slightly.
"When?" he asked.
Not *if*. Not *are you sure*. Just: *when*.
I looked down at my hands. "I don't know yet."
"Before or after the ceremony?"
The ceremony. Winter Solstice. Three days away. The formal announcement. Hanna as Luna. The whole pack assembled to witness it.
I didn't answer.
Kairo leaned back in his chair. His fingers drummed once against the wood—a habit he'd had since we were children, the way he thought through problems he couldn't see.
"I've been ready to leave for three years," he said quietly. "I've been waiting for you."
My throat tightened.
"I'm not ready yet," I said.
He nodded. He didn't argue. He just sat there, his hands going still on the table.
"Then I'll keep waiting," he said.
I stood. I crossed to the door. My hand rested on the frame.
"Kairo—"
"I know," he said. "You made an oath. But oaths go both ways, Diana. And he broke his first."
I left before he could say anything else.
Behind me, I heard his cane tap twice against the floor. He was memorizing the room again. Counting steps. Mapping exits.
Just in case.
---
Winter Solstice night came fast.
The pack house blazed with ceremonial fires. Every corridor glowed. The main hall was packed—two hundred wolves pressed shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with anticipation and the smell of pine smoke. I stood near the back wall. Kairo was beside me, his hand resting lightly on my arm so he knew where I was.
Aidan stood at the front of the hall.
Hanna was beside him in a white dress that caught the firelight. Her amber wolf was so close to the surface that her eyes practically glowed. She looked radiant. She looked perfect.
Aidan raised his hand. The hall went silent.
"Ironveil Pack," he said. His voice carried. Strong. Certain. "Tonight, I claim my mate before the Moon Goddess and before you all. Hanna of the western dispersed packs, I name you Luna of Ironveil—"
A voice cut through the hall.
"I invoke Elder authority."
Every head turned.
Elder Nicolas stood near the center aisle. His posture was straight. His voice was steady.
"I demand formal scent-verification of the mate claim," he said. "As is my right under pack law."
The hall erupted in whispers.
Aidan's face went dark. "Elder, this is not—"
"It is my right," Nicolas repeated. Louder this time. "And you will honor it, Alpha, or you will break law older than this pack."
I felt Kairo's hand tighten on my arm.
Hanna's face did something I had never seen before. For one half-second, the warmth dropped entirely. Her eyes went flat. Empty. Terrified.
Then the tears came.
She pressed her hand to her mouth. Her shoulders shook. "I don't understand," she whispered. "Why would he—"
Nicolas stepped forward. "Because your scent is wrong."
The hall went silent.
"I smell the seams," Nicolas said. His voice was calm. Clinical. "The chemical compounds. The fabricated layers. You are not his mate. You are wearing someone else's—"
Aidan's Alpha tone slammed through the hall like a physical blow.
"Stand down."
Nicolas staggered. Every wolf in the hall dropped their eyes. The tone was absolute. Crushing.
But Nicolas did not stop speaking.
"The herbs you stole," he said, his voice shaking now but still audible, "from the traveling healer six months ago—they mask true scent and layer false markers. I have seen this before. I know what it smells like. And you, Hanna, you reek of—"
Hanna turned.
She walked toward the side corridor. Fast. Her face was blank.
Nicolas followed.
I moved before I thought about it. I pushed through the crowd. Kairo called my name but I didn't stop. I reached the corridor entrance just as Hanna reached the top of the stairwell.
Nicolas was three steps behind her.
She turned. Her hands came up. She shoved.
The sound was terrible.
Nicolas's body hit the stone steps with a crack that echoed up the stairwell. His hip shattered. I heard it. He tumbled down the stairs and landed at the bottom in a heap, motionless.
Hanna stood at the top, breathing hard.
Then she saw me.
For one second, we looked at each other.
Her face was still blank. No tears. No warmth. Just calculation.
Then she screamed.
She screamed so loud the wolves in the hall came running. She collapsed against the wall, sobbing, her hands shaking.
"The Guardian's blade," she choked out. "It's there—at the bottom—I saw it—"
I looked down the stairwell.
My oath-blade was lying beside Nicolas's body.
I had not carried it in weeks.
Aidan appeared at the top of the stairs. His eyes found the blade. Then they found me.
His face went cold.
"Gamma," he said quietly. "Detain her."
Marcus stepped forward. His hand closed around my arm.
I did not resist.
I looked at Aidan. I looked at Hanna, still sobbing against the wall.
I looked at Nicolas's motionless body at the bottom of the stairs.
And deep in my chest, beneath eleven years of chemical silence, something enormous and ancient shifted.
Not a pulse this time.
A crack.
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