He Traded a True Luna for a Fake

Leona Carpenter was finally about to walk down the aisle to be mated to Alpha Michael Hansen.

The majestic swell of the ceremonial march flooded the pack’s venue, and Leona, gliding in her billowing white gown, moved gracefully down the aisle toward Michael, who stood waiting for her at the altar. He looked sharp in a crisp white suit, golden gilded light wrapping around him soft as a kiss, highlighting that same easy, commanding Alpha demeanor she’d fallen head over heels for the first day they met.

Three years. They’d weathered a hundred storms and rogue attacks together to get here, and finally, the dream she’d clung to for so long was seconds from coming true. The only dark cloud hanging over the day? Her own pack didn’t approve. They weren’t even here to give their blessing.

When Michael stepped forward to take her hand and offer her the bouquet, Leona’s eyes glistened, hot tears of joy pricking at the corners.

“Alpha Michael, do you take this she-wolf to be your lawfully bound mate? To love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, and be faithful to her as long as you both shall live under the Moon Goddess?” The Pack Elder asked, his gaze warm and soft as it rested on the couple before him.

Leona swallowed down the fluttering chaos in her chest, her inner wolf practically purring, and fixed her eyes on Michael, bright with hope, dying to hear him say yes.

But something shifted in Michael’s face. His expression went dark, empty, completely blank. He hesitated. The words died in his throat before he could even get them out.

That’s when it happened…

“Michael, by the Goddess, it’s terrible!” Remy Hansen came bursting through the doors, her scent spiking with pure panic and her face streaked with messy tears, cutting Michael off mid-silence. She choked on her sobs, broken and gasping, “Aila, she…”

A cold, clawing unease coiled tight in Leona’s chest. Tension carved sharp lines into her face, and instinctively, she clutched Michael’s hand harder, her claws threatening to slip out.

Leona knew better than anyone how much Aila Ellis meant to Michael. She was the one that got away. The impossible, fated love he’d never gotten over.

Years back, when the Hansen pack hit rock bottom, Aila chose a full ride to train with a foreign pack over their bond. Michael was broken, his Alpha pride too wounded to beg her to stay, so he cut her off cold. That’s when he turned to Leona.

But just a month ago? Aila’s familiar scent showed back up on their territory out of the blue.

Michael’s face shifted so fast it was like his inner wolf flipped a switch. His voice, tight and sharp with urgency, cut through the hush that had fallen over the room, “What happened to Aila?”

“She’s hurt bad, a silver blade, and the bleeding won’t stop! The pack healers say she might not make it!” Remy sobbed.

The second the words left her mouth, Michael wrenched his hand free of Leona’s grip and bolted for the door.

“You can’t leave!” Leona lunged after him, her trembling fingers locking tight around his wrist, desperation pouring off every inch of her. She held his gaze, begging, “Michael, today’s our mating ceremony. Are you really just going to walk out on me?”

The whispers of the pack members, their judgmental stares, felt like a thousand tiny claws slicing into her heart. Tears burned at her lash line as she bowed her pride and begged him, “Michael, can’t we just finish the ceremony first? Please?”

“She got hit saving me from a rogue ambush. I can’t just leave her to die.” Michael tried to yank his hand away, but Leona held on for dear life. His face hardened, and his voice came out cold as ice, “Leona, you know this mating was just a deal between us. Just do your job as the Luna of the Hansen Pack. My private life is none of your damn business.”

Leona’s pupils shrank. She stared at Michael’s cold, set face, disbelief washing over her whole body. Shock slowly melted into bitter, cutting irony.

A wry, broken smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She whispered, thick with sorrow, “So… all of this was just a deal to you?”