My Husband Tried to Make Her Luna

I stumbled through the darkened corridors of the pack house, my legs barely supporting me. Every step left a bloody print on the marble floor, but I couldn't stop. Not now. Not when I was so close.

My father's study remained sealed since his death—Christian had ordered it locked, claiming it was out of respect. Now I understood the truth: he was hiding evidence.

"Goldie," I whispered, feeling my wolf stir weakly within me. "We need to be strong. Just a little longer."

The biometric scanner beside the heavy oak door recognized my fingerprint despite the blood. A green light flashed, and the lock clicked open.

The scent of my father's pipe tobacco still lingered in the air, mixed with old paper and leather-bound books. I closed the door behind me, leaning against it as tears blurred my vision.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I choked out, clutching his signet ring that hung around my neck. "I chose wrong. So terribly wrong."

My legs gave way, and I collapsed to my knees beside his massive desk. The drawers were locked, but I knew where he kept the key—hidden in the spine of his favorite book on werewolf lineage.

With trembling hands, I retrieved the small brass key and unlocked the bottom drawer. There, beneath stacks of correspondence, lay his leather journal.

I opened it with reverence, flipping to the final entries. My heart stopped as I read his neat handwriting:

*Something isn't right with Christian. The pack accounts don't match. Elena must be protected if my suspicions are correct.*

The next page detailed symptoms—weakness, dizziness, a racing heart—and his conclusion: "Wolfsbane poisoning. Small doses. Methodical."

A small vial rolled from between the pages, labeled in my father's precise script: "Antidote prototype—incomplete but potentially lifesaving."

"He knew," I whispered, cradling the vial. "He knew Christian was killing him."

Goldie's grief merged with mine, a howl of anguish that threatened to tear me apart from within. But something else rose from the ashes of that pain—cold, calculating rage.

"He will pay," I promised, pocketing the vial and journal. "They both will."

---

I made it to the edge of our territory before Christian's patrol spotted me. Three Deltas in wolf form, their teeth bared as they circled.

"Going somewhere, Luna?" the lead Delta sneered after shifting partially back to human form.

"I need supplies," I lied, trying to sound authoritative despite my weakened state.

"Alpha Christian said you weren't to leave pack grounds." His eyes gleamed with malice. "He wants you found and brought back."

Before I could respond, a massive hand yanked me into the shadows between two ancient pines. I struck out blindly, only to be caught in an iron grip that smelled of cedar and rain.

"Don't," a deep voice commanded, his breath warm against my ear. "They'll see you."

My captor pulled me deeper into the forest, moving with supernatural speed until we crossed into neutral territory. Only then did he release me, stepping back into a shaft of moonlight.

Parker Gordon. Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack. Tall and imposing with midnight-black hair and eyes that seemed to pierce straight through me.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, trying to summon Goldie's strength to stand tall despite my injuries.

"Watching the borders," he replied simply. "I've been sensing your distress for days."

Something electric passed between us—a recognition that made no sense. His scent enveloped me, cedar and rain and something indefinably *right*. Goldie stirred, suddenly alert and yearning.

"That's impossible," I whispered. "We barely know each other."

Parker's eyes flashed amber in the darkness. "We know each other more than you realize, Elena King."

---

The safe house was a small cabin deep within Blood Moon territory. Parker carried me the last mile when my strength failed, his arms gentle despite his reputation as ruthless.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked as he set me on a sofa and knelt to examine my silver burns.

"Because seven years ago, I caught your scent at the Inter-Pack Summit," he said quietly, his fingers surprisingly tender as they applied a cooling salve to my wounds. "And I've been respecting your choice ever since."

I jerked back, disbelieving. "What are you saying?"

Parker's eyes met mine, unwavering. "I'm saying I'm your True Mate, Elena. The one the Moon Goddess intended for you."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. "No. That's not possible. I chose Christian."

"And I stayed away out of respect for that choice," he said simply. "Even when my wolf howled every night, sensing your unhappiness."

I shook my head violently. "I'm broken. Damaged. I'm not worthy of a True Mate."

Parker's expression hardened, his hands gripping my shoulders with gentle insistence. "Don't you dare say that. You are Elena King, daughter of Alpha Richard. You are strong. You are worthy."

His touch sent currents of electricity through my body, awakening parts of me I thought long dead. But fear held me back—fear of being hurt again, of being wrong again.

"I can't," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "I can't trust this. I can't trust you."

Parker's response was immediate and unequivocal: "Then I'll wait until you can."