My Mate is the Luna

The chamber was dark except for the glow of moonlight spilling through tall windows. Rhea lay on the edge of the bed, her body tense, her breath shallow. She hated the way the walls closed in, hated the weight of the heavy curtains that trapped the air.

But most of all, she hated the man stretched out behind her.

Alpha Dorian Creed. Her mate in name, not in bond.

His hand rested lazily on her waist, his touch claiming what her heart never gave. To the pack, they were perfect-Alpha and Luna, chosen to rule together. But the truth pressed like chains against her skin. She had never wanted him. Never chosen him.

She closed her eyes, trying to stop the tremor that shook through her. She had learned how to hide fear, but she couldn't silence it. Not here. Not with him so close.

"You're restless tonight," Dorian murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. His voice was smooth, practiced, the kind of tone that charmed everyone else but made her stomach knot.

"I'm fine," she whispered.

He gave a low chuckle, shifting closer, his breath hot against her neck. "You forget, little Luna... I can smell a lie."

Her chest tightened. She forced her body still, even as his hand slid lower, fingers pressing against her hip. Every nerve screamed to pull away. Every instinct warned what that would cost. So she stayed silent, her breath caught, her nails digging crescents into her palms.

Dorian smirked, satisfied with her stillness, and closed his eyes again. Soon his breathing evened, the slow rhythm of a man who had taken what he wanted and felt no need to fear.

Rhea's eyes stayed open in the dark. The ceiling blurred. She listened to the steady rise and fall of his chest and wished she could tear free, and wished she could breathe without weight pressing her down.

But the bond was false. The title was hollow. And her heart... her heart whispered of something else. Something that hadn't yet come.

---

The next night, she slipped from the Alpha's chamber under the guise of air. Her feet carried her through the quiet halls, into the open fields beyond the keep. The night was cool, sharp with the scent of pine. She let it fill her lungs, desperate to cleanse the cloying perfume of Dorian's room.

The moon hung high, silver and strong. Its light touched her skin in a way that made her feel both seen and haunted. Ever since she was marked, the moon never left her alone. It called to her in dreams, whispered warnings she could never understand.

Tonight, the whispers were louder.

She pressed a hand to her chest. "What do you want from me?" she breathed. Her voice cracked in the empty dark. "I'm not strong enough."

The words hung heavy, almost swallowed by the silence. She didn't hear the rustle at first. Not until it came again, closer this time, the soft shift of leaves and weight pressing against the earth.

Her heart slammed. Her head snapped toward the trees.

Eyes glowed from the shadows. Silver. Piercing.

She froze, her breath caught sharp in her throat.

A figure matched out, tall and broad, his presence rumbling like thunder. His shirt was torn at the sleeve, dirt streaked across his skin, his hair wild as if he had been running for miles. But it wasn't his body that made her heart seize.

It was his scent.

Raw. Fierce. Untamed.

The air snapped between them. Her chest heaved, her knees weak. Heat rushed through her veins so fast she thought she might fall.

Mate.

The word slammed into her mind before she could stop it.

The stranger's gaze locked on hers. His jaw tightened. His chest rose heavy. For a long, terrible moment, neither of them moved. The bond pulled tight, invisible and unbreakable, until it hurt to resist.

Rhea staggered back, her hand clutching the stone wall behind her. No. This couldn't be. She already had a mate. She already belonged to someone else.

But her body didn't care. Her pulse didn't care. Every part of her screamed for him.

"Who..." Her voice shook, breaking against the air. "Who are you?"

The man stepped closer, the moonlight catching his face. His eyes burned silver, his expression sharp with something between fury and need.

"Jace," he said, his voice low, rough.

The sound of it lit fire through her.

Her lips parted. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.

He dragged his gaze over her, not in hunger, but in recognition. His body was rigid, like he was fighting the same war tearing her apart. "You feel it too," he growled.

Her stomach flipped. "No." She shook her head fast, clutching tighter to the wall. "You're wrong."

His eyes darkened. "Don't lie to me."

She pressed back harder, her breath coming sharp. She hated that her body betrayed her, that heat still pooled low in her belly, that her hands trembled not from fear but from want.

This was impossible. This was forbidden. She already had a mate. She was Luna.

"I don't know you," she whispered.

His jaw clenched. He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. "But you will."

Her heart thundered so loud she swore he could hear it. She wanted to scream at him to leave. She wanted to close the space and give in. She hated herself for both.

Before she could speak, a low growl broke the air.

Rhea stiffened. Her blood ran cold.

From the shadows of the keep, a figure stepped forward. Broad shoulders. Hard eyes. A cruel smirk twisting his mouth.

Thorne.

Dorian's enforcer.

His hand rested on the hilt of his blade, his gaze cutting between Rhea and the rogue standing before her.

"Well," Thorne said slowly, his voice dripping with venom. "What do we have here?"

Rhea's breath hitched.

Jace didn't move. His silver eyes burned brighter, locked on the threat.

The air thickened, filled with danger.

And Rhea was aware... her secret wasn't safe anymore.

Thorne's boots scraped across the stone path, slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring the cornering of prey. His eyes locked on Jace with a cruel gleam, but the faint curl of his lip told Rhea he had seen her too.

Her chest seized. If he spoke a word of this to Dorian-

"Luna," Thorne drawled, mock respect dripping from his tongue. His gaze flicked between them, sharp as a blade. "Out for a midnight stroll?"

Rhea forced her back straight, though her knees trembled. Her voice came weak, too thin to convince even herself. "I was... clearing my head."

Thorne's smirk deepened. "And here I thought you preferred the Alpha's company. Yet I find you whispering with a rogue." He spat the last word like poison.

Jace didn't flinch. His body stilled, muscles taut, eyes glowing brighter beneath the moonlight. He shifted one step forward, silent challenge blazing in every line of him.

Rhea's heart kicked. If Jace attacked, Thorne would call the guards. The pack would swarm. And then... Dorian would know.

"No," she blurted, her hand darting out, fingers brushing Jace's arm before she even thought. Heat burned her skin at the contact, shooting up her arm like fire. She yanked her hand back fast, heart slamming against her ribs.

Thorne's brows arched. A cruel laugh rumbled from his chest. "Oh... now this is interesting."

Rhea's breath hitched.

Jace's jaw tightened. He moved closer, his body angled toward her, shielding her without words. His presence rolled heavy and hot, a shield against the night.

"Leave," Jace growled, his voice low, sharp as broken glass.

Thorne's laughter rang louder, echoing across the garden walls. "Bold. Very bold. But tell me, little Luna... does your Alpha know you're entertaining strays in his garden?"

The words stabbed her. Her stomach dropped. She wanted to speak, to deny, to twist free of his net, but her voice wouldn't come.

Jace stepped forward again, his shoulders squared, the wild scent of him thick in the air. His silver eyes cut like lightning.

"Say one more word," he snarled, "and I'll tear your throat out."

The world stilled. Even the night seemed to hold its breath.

Rhea's pulse pounded in her ears. Thorne's smirk faltered, just for a second, before his bravado returned. He spat on the ground, eyes narrowing into slits.

"This isn't over," he hissed. His gaze lingered on Rhea, hard and cold. "Enjoy your little secret while it lasts."

He turned, his boots striking the stone with harsh finality. Within moments, he vanished into the shadows of the keep.

Rhea sagged against the wall, her chest heaving, her skin damp with cold sweat.

Jace stayed still, his body taut, his eyes fixed on where Thorne had gone. Only when the silence thickened did he turn to her.

"You shouldn't be here," she whispered, her voice shaking.

His stare cut through her, unyielding. "Neither should you."

Her throat closed. She wanted to tell him he didn't understand, that she had no choice, that the chains around her weren't ones she could break. But when she met his eyes, the words tangled and died.

The bond thrummed between them, pulsing in her veins, hot and sharp. She clutched her arms around herself, desperate to contain the ache.

"You need to leave," she forced out, the plea breaking in her voice. "If Dorian finds you... he'll kill you."

Jace stepped closer. The heat of him pressed into her space, his scent dizzying, wild and clean and alive. His hand lifted as if to touch her face, but he stopped, fingers hovering an inch from her skin.

"Let him try," he said, voice low.

Her breath caught. Every instinct screamed to lean into that touch, to let his hand close the space, to surrender to the bond. But her fear was louder.

"I can't," she whispered, her eyes burning. "I'm Luna. I belong to him."

A muscle ticked in Jace's jaw. His silver gaze flared with anger, but not at her. "No," he growled. "You belong to no one."

The words shook her. She pressed back against the wall, trembling, every nerve alive and raw.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Then Jace exhaled, rough and sharp, and stepped back.

"I'll be near," he said, voice tight. "Whether you want me to or not."

Her chest squeezed. Her lips parted, but no sound came.

Before she could stop him, he turned and slipped back into the trees. His form melted into the shadows until only the memory of his heat lingered.

Rhea pressed her palms to her face, trying to steady the storm inside her. The bond throbbed like a wound, demanding, relentless.

But the greater terror wasn't the bond.

It was Thorne.

He had seen. He had heard. And Thorne never kept secrets.

---

The next morning, the council was summoned.

Rhea sat beside Dorian at the long stone table, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The chamber buzzed with voices, elders murmuring about rogues near their lands, about security and loyalty and the strength of the Alpha's rule.

Dorian leaned back in his chair, calm and commanding, every word he spoke dripping confidence. To the pack, he was their savior, their leader. To her, he was a shadow she couldn't escape.

But all through the meeting, she felt it.

Eyes on her.

Thorne stood against the wall, silent, arms crossed, his smirk faint but sharp as a blade. Every so often, his gaze cut to her, a silent reminder.

He knew.

And he could destroy her.

Her stomach churned. Her skin prickled cold. She tried to hide it, but Dorian's sharp eyes missed little. His hand slid over hers, a show of affection that made her stomach twist.

"Something on your mind, Luna?" he asked smoothly, loud enough for the room to hear.

Every head turned toward her.

Rhea forced a smile, her lips trembling. "No, Alpha," she said softly. "Nothing at all."

But her heart screamed the truth.

The bond was burning her alive. The rogue was near.

And Thorne held the knife to her throat.

As the meeting broke, Thorne's voice slid into her ear, low and venomous.

"I wonder," he whispered, "what your Alpha would say... if he knew whose eyes you were staring into last night."

Rhea's hands shook as she left the council chamber. The hum of voices still clung to the stone halls, fading as the elders scattered back to their duties. She tried to walk steady, chin high, but her chest was tight and her legs felt weak.

Thorne's words wouldn't stop echoing.

What your Alpha would say... if he knew whose eyes you were staring into last night.

She pressed a hand against her ribs, as if she could quiet her racing heart.

"Luna."

The voice snapped like a whip. She froze.

Thorne stepped from the shadows, his broad frame blocking the hall. His smirk spread slow, cruel, as his eyes slid over her.

"You looked pale during the meeting," he drawled. "Nervous. Almost like you're hiding something."

Her throat tightened. She forced her voice steady, though it came out softer than she wanted. "Move aside, Thorne. I need to return to the Alpha."

He chuckled, a low sound that made her stomach turn. "Of course. Run back to him. But I wonder how he'd feel knowing where you run at night."

Rhea stiffened. Her fingers curled into her skirts. "You saw nothing."

Thorne stepped closer, so close the heat of his body pressed into hers. His hand lifted, brushing a lock of hair from her face. The touch made bile rise in her throat.

"I saw enough," he murmured. "A rogue sniffing around the Luna. A Luna who didn't push him away."

Her pulse thundered. She stepped back, but he followed, crowding her against the wall.

"Imagine the Alpha's face," Thorne whispered, his breath hot on her skin. "When I tell him his Luna has a taste for rogues."

Rhea's chest seized. She wanted to scream, to shove him off, to fight... but fear rooted her to the stone. She was Luna only by title. Without power, without bond, she was nothing but prey in a cage.

"Stay away from me," she forced out, her voice breaking.

Thorne's grin widened. "Oh, I'll stay close, Luna. Very close. Until I decide the Alpha should know."

His hand trailed from her hair down to her shoulder. She flinched, pressing harder against the wall.

And then...

A snarl split the air.

The sound was low, savage, primal.

Rhea's breath caught.

From the far end of the hall, a figure stepped from the shadows. Broad shoulders, silver eyes burning like fire in the dark.

Jace.

Her stomach flipped. Her body trembled... not from fear this time, but from the raw heat sparking across her skin at the sight of him.

Thorne stiffened, his hand dropping to his blade. His smirk faltered. "Rogue," he spat.

Jace's lips pulled back, showing teeth sharp and glinting. His gaze wasn't on Thorne's blade. It was in his hand. The hand that had dared touch her.

"Take your hand off her," Jace growled, his voice deep and dangerous. "Or I'll rip it from your body."

The hall thickened with silence.

Rhea's pulse pounded so loud it drowned the world. She pressed back into the wall, her breath coming fast. Every part of her screamed danger, but another part... deep and aching... thrummed with relief.

Jace had come.

Thorne's eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't be here, mutt. The Alpha will skin you alive."

Jace took a step forward, slow and lethal. His presence rolled like thunder through the hall. "Try me."

The air crackled, heavy with the threat of violence.

Rhea's chest heaved. If they fought here, the guards would hear. The council would come. Dorian would know. She'd lose everything... her cover, her fragile place, maybe even her life.

"No," she gasped, forcing her voice through the storm. She pushed away from the wall, slipping between them. Her palms pressed against Jace's chest, hot and solid under her touch. The bond sparked wild at the contact, nearly stealing her breath.

"Please," she whispered, looking up into his blazing silver eyes. "Don't."

Jace's chest rose heavy under her hands. His jaw clenched. For a moment, she thought he might ignore her plea, tear into Thorne anyway. But then his gaze dropped to her face, and something shifted. His shoulders eased... slightly, but enough.

Thorne's laugh cut sharp. "Pathetic. The mighty rogue tamed by a girl who doesn't even want him."

Rhea flinched. The words struck deep, because wasn't it true? She couldn't want him. She wasn't allowed. And yet... her body told a different story. Her soul screamed another truth.

Jace's eyes darkened, but he stayed still.

Thorne smirked. "Enjoy your little game while it lasts, Luna. When I decide to speak, your Alpha will end him. And you."

He turned and stalked down the hall, his boots echoing hard against the stone.

The silence left behind pressed heavy.

Rhea sagged, her palms still flat on Jace's chest. She pulled back fast, her face burning, her hands trembling.

"You shouldn't be here," she whispered, her voice ragged. "You'll get us both killed."

Jace's eyes stayed locked on hers, burning with anger and something deeper. "I won't let him touch you again."

Her chest squeezed, the bond thrumming between them like a drumbeat. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to fall into his words, into his strength. But fear coiled tighter, louder than hope.

"You don't understand," she said, her throat tight. "He owns me. I can't escape."

Jace stepped closer, his hand lifting. This time he didn't stop. His fingers brushed her cheek, warm and rough, sparking fire through her veins.

"You're mine," he growled softly, his voice a vow. "No one owns you. Not him. Not anyone."

Her breath caught, her knees weak. She hated how much she wanted to lean into his touch, how much she ached to surrender.

But before she could answer...

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Heavy. Sure. Commanding.

Dorian.

Her blood froze.

Jace's hand dropped. His eyes blazed with fury and hunger, but he melted back into the shadows just as the Alpha turned the corner.

Dorian's gaze landed on her at once. His smile was sharp, curious. "Luna. What are you doing here, alone?"

Rhea forced her lips into a smile, though her heart pounded so hard it hurt.

"Nothing," she whispered.

But she knew the truth.

She was standing on the edge of a secret that could destroy everything.