Broken Luna

THE SAME NIGHT THE MOON ROSE BLOOD RED, Lindsay Sheffield learned she carried the mark of the cursed. And halfway across town, Kylie Bloomfield was mauled on set. Without hesitation, Brandon Sheffield ran to her side.

The supernatural press erupted with whispers: Brandon and Kylie rekindling their old flame, spotted together under the full moon. Lindsay-Brandon's official mate-was now the intruder in her own bond.

Brandon and Lindsay had been bonded since childhood, a pairing foretold by the pack elders. Everyone in Westport believed they were soulmates-meant to rule side by side. Five years mated, five years woven together by fate's invisible strings... or so Lindsay had believed.

But as her world tilted under the pale moonlight, she realized something she hadn't before: sometimes, even fate can be rewritten. And when a wolf's heart is set, no law, no prophecy, no vow can stop it.

Twenty-four hours had passed since Kylie's attack. The best time for Brandon's pack elders and his PR team to tame the rumors had come and gone. But the stories didn't die-they thrived, like wildfire under a harvest moon, drowning Lindsay's name beneath Kylie's rising star.

If the whispers hadn't quieted by now, it wasn't an accident. Brandon didn't want them to.

Sitting alone in the den, Lindsay clutched the healer's parchment, the words burning into her mind:

"Alpha Mate Sheffield, the mark runs deep. We believe the curse is waking within you. Without intervention, you may lose control of your shifts, or worse-forget who you are. You must call your mate. Tonight, under the blood moon, we must attempt the ritual before it's too late."

She'd called Brandon-hadn't told him everything, only that she needed him at the healer's lodge. He promised he'd come.

But an hour passed. Then two. His phone went dead. His beta finally answered on the third call:

"He's gone to Eastport."

"Why?"

A pause. "It's... it's on the howlstreams, Alpha Mate."

And there it was, the top headline: "Starlet Kylie Bloomfield hospitalized after rogue attack."

Lindsay's hands trembled as she shut off the screen. The winter air outside the lodge windows felt colder than ever. She pulled her cloak tighter, trying to ignore the gnawing hollowness in her chest.

She dialed her brother Daniel's number, but stopped halfway, remembering it was still dawn across the ocean. She hung up.

Once home, she called Brandon again. Then again. Seven, eight times. But he never answered. Usually, she let him be when he vanished for days-but tonight? Tonight she wanted to bother him. Wanted him to snap at her. Wanted to matter enough to break through whatever spell he was under.

But he didn't.

The moon had risen high by the time her mother-in-law, Marilyn, called. "Lizzie, darling, have you heard from Brandon?"

"No."

A long sigh. "You're still his fated mate, love. No one else bears that title. I'll speak to him. I'll make him see sense."

"Thanks, Mom. But... maybe it's not something that can be fixed."

"Nonsense. Blood bonds don't break so easily." Marilyn's tone softened. "Just rest tonight, child. We'll shield you from the council's questions."

After the call, Brandon's number lit up. Lindsay answered, putting him on speaker. His voice came cold, distant, a stranger's. "Why all the calls?"

"Nothing urgent."

Silence. Then a woman's voice behind him: "Alpha Sheffield, Miss Bloomfield's awake. She's asking for you."

"In a minute," he replied, hanging up.

The dial tone echoed in her ears like a death knell.

Kylie had been his first love, back when they'd both shifted for the first time beneath the same moon. Everyone had known they'd been entangled. Everyone except, maybe, Lindsay herself.

When Brandon had proposed at the Moon Festival, turning to her with that wild gleam in his golden eyes, she hadn't wanted to embarrass him. She'd said yes. Told herself it was fate.

Now she saw it clearly. Brandon had never let Kylie go. He had never truly chosen Lindsay.

So what was she to him? A placeholder? A safe, convenient second-best?

The ache in her chest deepened, sharp as a claw.

Curling into herself, she let the tears fall. Then, wiping them away, she stood by the window, watching the moon glow silver through the trees.

She picked up her phone again. Called her brother.

"Daniel," she whispered, her voice steadier now, "I'm coming home to London."

"Will Brandon be with you?"

"No. Just me."

"Did something happen?" Concern laced his words.

"I just... it's time I left the pack." Her throat tightened. "Time I learned who I am without him."

A long pause. Then Daniel's voice, warm and unwavering: "I'll be waiting at the airport."

Outside, the wolves howled under the blood moon. And for the first time in years, Lindsay didn't flinch at their cry.

After a few more exchanges, the siblings ended their call. Lindsay carefully folded the healer's parchment on the coffee table and tucked it beneath a drawer, retreating into the quiet hum of the house.

Brandon returned a week later-but not alone. Kylie came with him, pale but radiant beneath the winter moon, her wounds from the rogue attack healing faster than any normal wolf's.

He settled her into the house next door.

That house. The one Daniel had gifted Lindsay the night of her claiming ceremony, a promise that she'd always have a sanctuary apart from the pack's politics. She'd never lived there, never even crossed its threshold. She'd left it empty save for the housekeeper's occasional visits.

But now, Kylie Bloomfield was moving in.

The irony wasn't lost on her.

In their bond, Lindsay had always been the quiet one, the one who yielded first. Even when Brandon's temper flared or his absence stretched days into weeks, she swallowed her pride, choosing peace over confrontation. But this time...

She glanced at him as he placed a bag of Kylie's belongings by the door, his jacket dusted with snow. She wanted to ask him: Do you think this is right?

But as the words pressed against her tongue, she swallowed them back. She'd already decided to leave. What was the point now?

Instead, she turned away, lifting a book from the shelf and tucking it into an open box.

Brandon noticed the motion. "You're packing?"

"Just clearing some things."

He shifted uncomfortably. "It's only temporary. Kylie being next door, I mean. Her healer's recommended she stay close until the next moon. Safer for everyone."

Facing the shelves, Lindsay smirked faintly. Safer for her... or for you?

She slipped another book into the box. "She's welcome to stay. But you should let Miss Bloomfield know-real estate agents might be stopping by soon. I've listed the house."

Brandon frowned. "You're selling it?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while. It's just sitting there."