My Husband Tried to Make Her Luna
Chapter 5
The black ceremonial gown whispered against my skin as I smoothed it over my body. Its heavy fabric concealed the silver scars that mapped my torture across my back and shoulders, yet the cut emphasized the proud lines of my Alpha heritage. My father's signet ring hung heavy around my neck, a reminder of what I was fighting for.
"It's time," I whispered to Goldie, feeling her stir within me. She had grown stronger these past days, fed by our shared rage and determination.
Parker stood before me, his amber eyes reflecting the candlelight of the small preparation chamber. "Are you certain you want to do this alone?"
"I must," I replied, lifting my chin. "But I need your strength as backup."
He nodded, understanding without words. We had discussed this ritual—an ancient bonding that would temporarily link our minds without the permanence of a mating mark. If my strength faltered during the rejection ceremony, I could draw on his.
"Your hand," he said quietly.
I extended my palm, and he produced a small silver dagger—not the toxic kind that had burned me, but one blessed by his pack's priestess. With practiced precision, he drew a thin line across my palm, then his own.
Our blood mingled as he pressed our hands together. "By blood and will, our wolves shall know each other," he murmured, his voice deep and resonant. "Until the moon rises and sets again."
A warmth spread from our joined hands throughout my body. I felt Goldie surge forward, reaching across the space between our souls to touch Parker's wolf. The connection wasn't as intimate as a true mate bond, but it was strong—a lifeline I could grasp if needed.
"Thank you," I whispered, feeling stronger than I had in days.
Parker's fingers brushed my cheek, leaving fire in their wake. "I am with you, even when I am not beside you."
---
The Grand Gathering amphitheater glowed with hundreds of torches, illuminating the faces of wolves from every major pack on the East Coast. I watched from the shadows as they filed in—first the common pack members, then the ranked wolves, followed by the neighboring Alphas with their entourages.
The Lycan Council members entered last, their ceremonial robes marking their authority. Councilor Victoria Ashford led them, her silver-streaked hair gleaming in the torchlight. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk's, surveyed the gathering with practiced assessment.
"She's looking for you," Marcus whispered beside me. "The Council knows something isn't right."
I nodded, my heart pounding against my ribs. "Good."
A hush fell over the crowd as Parker entered. He walked alone, his powerful frame commanding attention without effort. Every eye followed him as he moved down the center aisle, his midnight hair gleaming and his aura crackling with barely contained power.
"Alpha Gordon," Councilor Ashford acknowledged with a slight bow.
Parker inclined his head in return but said nothing as he took his seat in the front row. His eyes found Christian across the amphitheater, and the look he gave him could have frozen fire.
I felt the ripple of unease through the crowd. Parker's presence was unexpected—the Blood Moon Pack had no formal alliance with Silver King. His early arrival and prominent positioning sent whispers racing through the gathering.
"What is he doing here?" I heard someone ask.
"Something's happening," another replied.
I smiled grimly in the shadows. Let them wonder.
---
The crowd fell silent as Christian took the stage. He wore formal Alpha robes, his expression carefully crafted into one of somber dignity. Anya stood slightly behind him, draped in a white gown that mocked traditional Luna colors—a deliberate choice to appear as though in mourning.
"My dear pack members, honored Alphas, and esteemed Councilors," Christian began, his voice carrying across the amphitheater. "We gather tonight in a time of profound loss."
He paused, looking down as though overcome with emotion. I knew that look—had seen it countless times when he wanted sympathy or when he was lying.
"As many of you know, my beloved mate Elena has been taken from us by vicious Rogues." His voice cracked perfectly on cue. "Her body was never recovered, but we can assume the worst."
Goldie snarled within me, and I felt Parker's anger surge through our temporary bond.
"For weeks, I have been lost in grief," Christian continued, wiping away a tear that I knew was as false as his words. "But tonight, I come before you not just as a grieving mate, but as your Alpha."
He reached back for Anya's hand, drawing her forward. "In times of darkness, the Moon Goddess sometimes grants us unexpected light. Tonight, I wish to introduce the woman who has helped heal our broken hearts."
Anya stepped forward, her face radiant with triumph barely disguised as modesty.
"This is Anya Wood," Christian announced. "Who carries within her the future of our pack."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Even Christian's most loyal supporters looked confused—this was not the announcement they had expected.
"The mother of my heir," Christian said, placing his hand on Anya's still-flat stomach. "And soon, your new Luna."
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