For the first time in twenty years, I wore white again. The lace hugged my aging frame like a whisper of the she-wolf I used to be. My hands trembled as I smoothed the skirt, breath catching in my throat. It didn’t shimmer like the gowns I once dreamed of beneath moonlit trees, but it was mine. A secondhand mating dress for a wolf still waiting for her first true ceremony.
I stepped into the pack house’s hearth-lit living room, my heart pounding like war drums—not from excitement, but from the fragile hope I still dared to hold.
Lucas Barlowe, the powerful, commanding, and brooding Alpha of the Sharp Fang Pack, sat on the leather sofa, his nose buried in his financial reports, the scent of ink and cold dominance clinging to him. He didn’t even lift his gaze as he spoke.
“You are old and ugly. Why do you still wear a wedding dress?”
Lucas snarled, tossing the ancient scroll of pack finances onto the oak table. His voice echoed, bouncing off the high ceiling like a slap from the past.
“Claire, I have to fly to Drodon for negotiations with the Ashfang Alpha tomorrow.
Don’t pester me with this wedding nonsense. I’ll have my Beta escort you to buy a diamond ring. That should shut you up. Money is more practical than a mating vow.”
He didn't even look at me.
“You think about it all the time. Are you sick from boredom?” He snapped, his eyes full of cold disdain.
“Look at Heidy. She’s in her forties same age as you, still chasing purpose, still serving the pack. She’s my secretary and doesn’t need a mate to validate her life. And here you are, wasting away in the Alpha Wing, enjoying the fruits of power while doing nothing. No responsibilities. No ambition. Just a pretty little house pet, so why don’t you just be Luna and stop being so ungrateful.”
House pet…
The word rang louder than his tone.
I had been born a princess, the only daughter of Alpha Marcus Wildfang, a bloodline blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. My mother was an elemental wolf with the ability to bend air and sky to her will. I have been trained in both blade and diplomacy. I faced rogue alphas in the burning plains of the North and led missions during the Red War. I had scars that no amount of power could heal.
I was born to be Luna. I have always been.
And yet… to him, I was nothing but a house pet.
Our daughter-in-law, Jasmine—our son’s mate—sauntered into the room, her long sable hair tied loosely, her shirt barely hiding the bite mark on her collarbone.
“Mom, you’re forty and still dreaming of a wedding? Aren’t you embarrassed?” She yawned as she curled up beside Alpha Lucas. “If you actually try it, people will laugh. The pack will never take you seriously again. Dad’s negotiating the Blackthorn listing with the Council of Clans. We can’t risk this embarrassment. Besides, Dad’s about to be named Elder Alpha, you being so… embarrassing might cost us everything.”
My hand trembled.
My grip on the fruit knife slipped, slicing through the thin skin on my thumb.
Blood welled instantly, spilling down my fingers and onto the chopping board. The scent of copper was sharp.
A wolf’s blood—especially mine—was potent. It stained everything.
Still, I bandaged the wound and silently finished slicing the apples. I handed the bowl to the table.
Even now… I served them.
“Oh, Claire won’t understand, she’s a household. She hasn’t been out in society for years. I doubt she even knows how the Council operates now. It’s better to talk to someone who can keep up with you, Lucas.”
The Elder Alpha, Aric—my father-in-law said as he speared a slice of fruit and chewed with a smirk. His once golden eyes were dim, but the cruelty remained razor-sharp.
“Heidy is your age, yet she’s vibrant, clever. Sharp like her father, that fire-born Beta from the Ironfang Pack. Heidy… well. You two grew up together, yet she aged faster. She let herself go. You should reflect on that.”
I froze.
Claire coughed uneasily, trying to ease the rising tension. “Father, that’s—”
“She has no future,” the Elder Alpha cut in coldly. “You don’t see it when they’re young, but the older they get, the more obvious it is. I told you years ago, you should have mated with Heidy instead. She would have strengthened your claim to the next Elder Alpha seat. Unlike Claire, who gave up her wolfhood to become your housekeeper. She dropped her sword the moment she got marked. No ambition. No honor. Just a name.”
He tossed a grape into his mouth and sneered. “You even said once, you regretted marrying so young, didn’t you?”
Alpha Lucas didn’t deny it.
Not one of them looked at me.
I stood there, clothed in moon-spun silk and ancient pain, as their words pierced deeper than claws ever could.
“I do admire Heidy,” Alpha Lucas murmured finally, not meeting my gaze. “She’s better than Claire in many ways—smarter, more capable. But Claire has been with me for twenty years. She is… my mate. Still my Luna, dad.”
His voice lacked conviction. It was more an excuse than a declaration.
“And what has that brought me? Regret. You mated too early. Gave up too easily. Heidy, now—Heidy has potential. She could’ve been my daughter-in-law. Hell, I wish she was. She has ambition. She’d be the perfect Luna.”
I bent down to retrieve the empty plate.
Walked into the kitchen.
The water hissed as it struck the open wound, sending a jolt of pain up my arm. I stared at my hands—peeling, red, and rough from decades of chores. I remembered what my mother once told me before she died.
"Daughters of the Alpha line do not serve. We rule. Even when they forget who we are, the Moon never does."
My wolf stirred.
She had been silent for years. Muzzled by duty. Caged by obedience. Shamed into silence by a pack that never saw me beyond their expectations.
As I stared down at my reflection in the basin—gold-eyed, tired, forgotten—I remembered.
I was not born weak.
I was the daughter of Alpha Marcus of the Wildfang Pack—nomads of the moonlit ranges, warriors of the wind. We ran with shadows, ruled by instinct, our howls echoing across the peaks like thunder.
But I gave that life up.
For him.
For love, I said.
For the future, I believed.
And now?
Now, I was little more than a servant in wolf’s clothing.
I had no voice. No pack. No place.
For twenty years, I served Elder Alpha. His words cut deeper than any claw.
I served my mate. His love was duty, not desire.
I served my son and his chosen mate—who dripped disrespect like venom.
I was their silent moon. Always there. Always watching.
Always orbiting. Never full. Never bright. Never enough. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They never had to ask. I anticipated every need. Folded their clothes.
Cooked their meals. Bit my tongue. Buried my howl. I was on duty as a soldier. And yet… there were no medals. No thanks.
I have been spinning, spinning—like a tethered wolf in a cage of expectations. Day after day. Year after year.
They always thought I was made to serve and I gave them everything.
I served their hierarchy.
Swallowed their disrespect.
I was always with them. Always giving.
But I was always… less.
