I Became Someone Else's Luna

I stayed with Ethan Hudson for seven years. He grew bored of me.

He found a younger werewolf girl in the clan.

I didn't plead for him to stay this time.

I discarded the mate-bond stone, burned the protection bracelet I crafted, and left the clan that night.

His friends ridiculed me, wagering how soon I'd beg for reconciliation.

Ethan, arm around his new girl, laughed and said, "Three days tops. She'll come back crying."

Three days passed, then another three, and I never returned.

Ethan couldn't wait any longer and contacted me first. "Sylvie, enough with the tantrum..."

Victor Wilson, his rival, cut in on the phone. "Ethan, you've got to move fast to win her back. Too late, and a good girl's gone."

Ethan's howl nearly broke the receiver. "Get Sylvie on the phone!"

Victor kissed me softly and said, "She can't. She's worn out from last night and just fell asleep."

1

Our seventh anniversary with Ethan came.

I held a newly made protection bracelet, ready to propose.

Bad timing struck. A key clan meeting happened, and I arrived late.

At the clan hall's entrance, laughter echoed.

"Sylvie? Dull," Ethan's voice said casually. "Not like the new girl I'm into."

A werewolf chuckled. "Seven years? That'd get stale."

Ethan sipped his whiskey. "Holding her hand feels like my left touching my right."

The room's werewolves roared with laughter. "Seven years, man. Sylvie's lasted long with you."

"But she's stunning, though. Few in the clan match her."

"Her figure's killer. That red dress at the last gathering? Every male wolf stared."

"She's a fierce hunter too. Last contest, she shot a boar's head clean through. So badass. I love a female wolf like that."

Ethan stayed silent at their teasing.

Someone asked, "Alpha, you chased Sylvie so hard back then. Really letting her go?"

"What's to keep?" Ethan's tone chilled. "Anyone's boring after seven years."

"Yeah," another added. "Same meat daily for seven years? You'd hate it."

"Alpha, if you and Sylvie split, can I try for her?"

"Go ahead," Ethan replied, sipping again, unconcerned. "Anyone who wants her can."

He didn't look up.

"Come on," someone mocked. "With all the young female werewolves, why go for one that's been played out?"

Laughter shook the hall.

I gripped the bracelet in my pocket, the moonlight stone biting my palm.

I texted Ethan. "Something came up. Going home."

As I turned, my skirt swept leaves on the steps, rustling softly.

Back at the empty house, I tossed the bracelet into the bottom of a drawer.

That night, moonlight slipped through the curtain gaps, and I stared at the ceiling until dawn.

That was the night I decided to leave.

Within days, word spread through the clan.

Ethan was chasing a newly matured werewolf girl, young and innocent, never in love.

He pursued her boldly, just like he had with me years ago, making sure the whole clan, the entire settlement knew.

He gave her a house at the highest point in the clan's forest, where the full moon's silver glow shone brightest.

The car he gifted her had the clan's crest on the door, the exact model he once promised me.

Even the rare wolfsbane flowers, hardest to pick, arrived daily in bundles.

The girl, unused to such pursuit, blushed and agreed to be his within days.

At a clan friend's gathering, Ethan brought her along.

The moment they walked in, the room fell silent.

A few female werewolves I was close to looked at me with worry, wanting to approach but staying still.

I tugged at my skirt and smiled. "What's wrong? Why's everyone staring at me?"

Ethan, with his arm around the girl's waist, sat on the couch and finally looked my way. "Sylvie, since we're here, I'll make things clear."

"Go ahead," I said. I picked up a glass of wine, my fingers tracing circles on its rim. I felt a mix of panic, heartbreak, and strange relief, like a weight settling.

"We've been together seven years. I'm tired of it. The spark's gone." He spoke bluntly, without hesitation. "It's just not fun anymore."

My nails dug into my palm, but I felt no pain.

My heart seemed numb, and my body followed.

"Lily's young, just matured, sweet and innocent. I really like her, and I don't want her to feel out of place in the clan." Ethan smiled and touched the girl's cheek. "I want to give her a proper mate status in the clan."

I took a sip of wine, its bitterness filling my mouth.

But I still smiled and said, "Sounds good." Ethan spoke, "We can still be friends. If you need anything in the clan, I'll help."

"No need," I said, setting down my glass and standing. "Let's keep things clean. No need to make Lily uncomfortable."

Ethan paused, staring at me.

After a few seconds, he said, "That's for the best."

"You all carry on. I'm heading out."

"Want my driver to take you?"

"No, I drove myself."

As I left the room, I heard a werewolf ask, "How long do you think Sylvie will hold out this time?"

"Two or three days?"

"I bet a week. She seems really upset this time."

Ethan glanced at the red hem of my skirt in the doorway and laughed wildly. "Just watch. In three days, she'll be crying and begging me to take her back."

"Yeah, after all these years, this drama's getting old."

"Haha, Alpha, you know Sylvie's so love-struck she can't let you go. That's why you treat her like this."

Their words stabbed my ears like needles, each one dripping with mockery.

I forced a bitter smile and hurried away from the place that humiliated me in front of my clan.

When I returned to the house Ethan and I shared, night had fallen.

I walked into the bedroom and dug out the protection bracelet from the drawer's depths.

The wolf fur woven into it came from Ethan's transformations, collected secretly by me. The moonlight stones were polished by my own hands.

Every detail was meticulous, perfect.

Traditionally, male werewolves made these, but Ethan never planned to.

I should have known then not to expect it.

I stared at it for a moment, then grabbed scissors and snipped it apart.

The bracelet fell to the floor, like a severed tail.

I gathered the pieces and tossed them into the living room fireplace.

Before leaving, I removed the mate-bond stone from my neck and placed it on the bedside table.

When packing, I took only what I'd bought myself.

I left everything Ethan gave me behind.

I thought it over and left a note with the keys on the entryway table.

The house and everything in it were his to do with as he pleased. He didn't need to ask me.

I drove away from the clan.

I went to Tidehaven Bay.

My best friend Freya Douglas married there last year.

She said it wasn't cold, with warm sea breezes always blowing.

I figured I'd visit her to clear my mind, like a vacation.

When I stepped off the plane, a warm breeze carried the salty scent of the sea.

It felt much better than the cold winds of the clan.

Freya waited at the airport, let go of her werewolf husband, and hugged me tightly. "My darling, I finally got you here!"

The next day, Freya invited me shopping and for afternoon coffee.

After I told her about Ethan, she cursed him as a jerk.

She lectured me. "Female werewolves shouldn't be too love-struck. Old ones go, new ones come! I'll find you someone better right away."

I laughed and cried at her words but didn't say no.

That evening, a small gathering happened with old classmates, friends, and Freya's new acquaintances from the area.

As the party wound down, someone pushed open the door.

Several female werewolves cheered, and male werewolves stood to greet him.

"Alpha Victor! It's Victor!"

"Alpha rarely joins our gatherings. Why's he here today?"

Victor scanned the room, his gaze lingering somewhere before he spoke. "I was at a business meeting nearby, heard old friends were here, and thought I'd stop by."

He sat down not far from me. "Hope I'm not intruding?"

"No way, Alpha. I'm thrilled you're here," someone said.

Another offered him a drink. "Care for a glass?"

Freya whispered to me, winking. "Sylvie, is he here for you?"

I was a bit tipsy and only then looked up at Victor.

He spoke to someone beside him, his profile sharp, throat moving as he sipped his drink.

Taller than Ethan, he wore a black overcoat over a matching suit, tie knotted neatly.

His features were striking, his build impressive, his legs impossibly long.

Just standing there, he drew every eye.

In short, a perfect specimen.

"Well? Staring much? Handsome, right?" Freya nudged me playfully.

Her teasing grin snapped me out of it. I'd been gawking at a man and quickly looked away.

I didn't notice Victor's gaze shift to me as I lowered my head.

"Uh, yeah, he's handsome," I mumbled, touching my nose awkwardly. "But he's definitely not here for me. We haven't talked since I graduated and returned to the clan."

Freya gave me a look full of "you'll see."

"Alpha, could you give Sylvie a ride later?" she suddenly called out before I could stop her. "We're all a bit drunk, and I don't trust anyone else to take her."

I froze, trying to pull Freya back down to hush her.

She ignored me, winking again.

Victor's gaze crossed the curious crowd of werewolves and landed on my face.

I grew nervous, unsure if he'd agree.

After a few seconds, he nodded. "Sure."

"Thanks, Alpha! Here's a toast to you!" Freya said, beaming, then leaned to whisper to me.

"Sylvie, seven years with one man. Isn't that a waste? Ethan moves on to one girl after another. Can't you do the same? You're already broken up. The best way to forget a man is to find the next one. A better one. You were staring at Victor. A guy like that, don't you want to give it a shot?"

I whispered back, "How do you know he'd be interested? Maybe he doesn't care for me."

"Please, darling. Be confident! He looks at you like he's hunting, practically undressing you with his eyes. Trust me, love. I've dated twenty-eight guys. I know more than you."

As the party ended, a cool night breeze felt pleasantly tipsy.

Victor walked beside me, draping his black overcoat over my shoulders.

He towered over me, and the streetlights stretched our shadows long.

"My car's up ahead." He stopped, pointing to a black sedan nearby.

Its unlit headlights gleamed steadily in the dark, like him.

At the hotel, I unbuckled my seatbelt.

I thanked him. "Thanks for driving me back tonight."

Victor turned to me. "You're welcome."

As I opened the car door to leave, Ethan's words from that day flashed in my mind. "Seven years, who wouldn't get bored? Anyone who wants her, go for it."

His flippant, mocking tone sparked anger and impulse in me. "Want to come up for a drink?"

Victor's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his deep-sea gaze pulling me in.

After a moment, he nodded. "Sure."

In the hotel elevator, as the doors closed, Victor pressed me against the wall.

His hand braced beside my ear, his cedar-scented breath washing over me.

A second later, his warm lips met mine.

I was already tipsy, and his fierce, commanding kiss left my mind blank.

My breathing quickened, his taste mixed with faint whiskey on my lips, nearly stealing my air.

"Wait..." I turned my head, gasping. "There's a camera."

He paused, his forehead against mine, breath hot.

Following my glance to the corner's security camera, he didn't let go but turned me to shield me from it and kissed me again.

His actions forced me to cling to his waist, pressed fully against him.

This kiss was softer but more lingering.

The elevator dinged, and he slowly pulled back.

I leaned into his chest, legs too weak to stand, held up by his hand on my waist as the doors opened.

The hallway carpet was thick, muffling our steps.

My fingers trembled as I fumbled for the room key.

Victor took it from me and swiped the door open.

As the door cracked open, he called out. "Sylvie."

I looked back, his eyes serious in the dim light. "If you regret this now, I can still stop."

"Regret what?" I tilted my face up, emboldened by the alcohol.

I hooked his tie, pulling him closer. "You kissed me so hard, and now you talk about stopping?"

Victor laughed, a low rumble from his chest that buzzed my ears.

His rough fingertips brushed my slightly swollen lips, making me shiver. "Then regret's off the table."

His voice was hoarse, teasing my ear like a feather.

I didn't yet grasp his meaning, only felt my heart pounding wildly.

When he pushed me through the door and pressed me against the cold wall, panic crept in.

Our first time, Victor didn't even make it to the bedroom.

The wall's hard surface dug into my back, uncomfortable.

I let out a small whine and bit his shoulder. "Victor, you're too rough. Can you be gentler?"

His gaze burned, and his hot palm cushioned my back.

His scorching lips grazed my neck. "Sylvie, I'm struggling to hold back..."

His kisses trailed down to my collarbone.

I clutched his shirt, nails nearly tearing the fabric.

My mind swam in a haze until ten minutes later, when Victor carried me to the bedroom.

Then I understood what he meant by "struggling."

He flicked on the bedroom light, warm yellow glow spilling over us.

He set me gently on the bed, and I rolled onto the pillow, laughing.

"Victor," I said, glancing at him, lashes damp. "How long has it been since you were with a woman?"

He was loosening his tie, paused, and looked at me with a half-smile. "No time for that. Been busy with work since graduation."

I froze, my laughter fading.

The alcohol cleared, and I searched his eyes for a hint of a joke.

His gaze was earnest, no trace of teasing.

I realized it was his first time.

Something hit my heart, sour and heavy.

Tears welled up, and I turned away, burying my face in the pillow, voice muffled. "I'm sorry, Victor..."

"Sylvie, what are you saying?" He noticed something was wrong and leaned close, reaching for the pillow.

I gripped it tightly, tears soaking the pillowcase.

He didn't force it away, instead lying beside me, gently patting my back.

His movements were clumsy but tender.

"I shouldn't have started this," I said, sniffing. "I didn't know..."

I hadn't expected his seriousness or that I'd treat someone so genuine so carelessly.

His hand paused, then he leaned down, easing the pillow from my arms. "You already started it."

He cupped my face, making me look at him.

His eyes were steady, free of blame or disdain, only sincere.

"Sylvie," he said, wiping my tears with his thumb, touch light. "You started this, so you've got to see it through. No backing out now."