Chapter 6 6

Emma's POV

When I woke up the next morning, my entire body throbbed with a dull, relentless ache. It felt as though I had spent the night curled up on the cold, hard floor—and in truth, I had.

The memory of Alpha Gregory banishing me from his room was still painfully fresh, a bitter reminder of his rejection.

The red moon pool had drained me, leaving me desperately aching for my mate, but I was powerless.

The bond between us was as real as the pain coursing through my veins, but without his acceptance, I was merely clawing at the walls of an impenetrable fortress, trapped in a limbo of unfulfilled longing.

It was Luna Essa who finally woke me. Her presence was quiet and understanding. She didn’t say a word about the night before, but the knowing look in her eyes spoke volumes. Perhaps she noticed the sluggish way my limbs moved, or the defeated look I wore like a mask. Either way, she didn’t press for details, and I was deeply grateful for her silence.

Now, I stood beside her in the kitchen, helping the pack Omegas set the table for the grand event we were hosting. It was a joint gathering for neighboring Alphas, all coming to congratulate Gregory on finding his mate. My heart twisted at the irony. They were coming to celebrate a bond that was far from complete—a connection that existed only in name, not in reality. Yet, I had no choice but to play my part.

The dining table was long and grand, fit for the powerful leaders who would soon arrive. I arranged the plates with precise, deliberate care, even though my mind was a million miles away. The clinking of silverware against porcelain was the only sound breaking the heavy silence between Luna Essa, the other Omegas, and me.

“Emma,” Essa spoke at last, her voice soft and hesitant.

“Yes, Luna?” I replied, looking up from a napkin I was folding.

Meeting my gaze steadily, she said, “Just remember, the Moon has a plan for all of us. Even when it seems like everything is falling apart.”

I nodded, forcing a tight smile. I wanted to believe her, to take comfort in her words, but all I could feel was the hollow emptiness where my mate’s acceptance should have been.

As we placed the final centerpieces, the silence stretched, heavy with things left unsaid. Trying to keep my voice steady, I asked, "Luna Essa, is there anything else you need help with?"

She glanced at me, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. "Emma, you don't have to call me Luna anymore. As of now, you are the present Luna."

Her words hit me like physical weight. I froze, my hand lingering over the tablecloth. The title felt heavy, like a crown I wasn't remotely ready to wear. Without completing the mate bond, how could I possibly take on such a role? The question burned at the back of my mind, but I didn't dare voice it. Inwardly sighing, I pushed the doubt aside.

"Of course," I replied, though the acknowledgment felt hollow.

As we finished the final preparations, I caught the cautious, hesitant glances of the other Omegas. They watched me out of the corners of their eyes, clearly unsure of how to approach me. I couldn't blame them. I knew I looked a mess—exhausted, emotionally drained, and far from the radiant image of a Luna they expected. I tried to muster a reassuring smile for them, but my face felt stiff, as if it had forgotten how to form the expression naturally.

Once the work was done, the Omegas quietly departed, leaving Essa and me alone in the vast dining hall.

I hesitated for a moment, shifting my weight before asking the question that had been dreading all morning. "Luna Essa... where should I stay?"

Understanding dawned in her eyes. "You'll stay in one of the guest rooms for now," she said gently. "But don't worry, we'll make the necessary arrangements soon. I fully intend to speak with my son. You are mates, and mates are supposed to be together."

I bit my lip, desperate to stop the tears that threatened to spill. I knew Gregory would never accept me, but I needed a distraction before I broke down. "I don't have anything to wear for the ceremony, Luna," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

She reached out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Come with me, Emma. We'll find you something suitable."

I nodded and followed her out of the dining hall. As we walked through the quiet hallways, Essa turned to me, her expression shifting from formal to probing.

"So, tell me, Emma," she began softly. "How was last night?"

The question felt like a physical blow. My heart sank, and a wave of sadness washed over my face before I could hide it. I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to let the emotion overwhelm me.

"You two didn’t... meet, did you?" Essa asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

I couldn’t bring myself to speak. My throat tightened, and I dropped my gaze to the floor, avoiding her eyes. The silence grew heavy between us as our footsteps echoed against the stone walls.

Sensing my distress, Essa stopped walking. She gently took both of my hands in hers, forcing me to look up. "Listen to me, Emma. I know my son," she said, her voice fiercely reassuring. "And I know that he likes you. Just give it some time, alright? The mate pull is strong—he can’t avoid it forever."

Her words were meant to comfort me, but they only deepened the ache in my chest. Still, I managed a fragile nod, even if I didn't truly believe her.

Essa smiled, releasing my hands. "Good. Now, let’s go find something to make their heads turn. You need to look your best for the ceremony."

Her lighter tone helped lift the suffocating weight in the hallway. I nodded again, this time with a bit more conviction, and followed her until we stopped in front of a large, ornate door. She paused briefly before pushing it open, revealing a bedroom that was as grand as it was welcoming.

“Welcome to my room,” she said warmly, gesturing for me to enter. “And Emma, please know that anytime you need anything, you can just walk right in. You don’t need to knock. You are free to come in whenever and however you want, understood?”

She beamed at me, but my mind scrambled to handle the sudden intimacy. Essa’s kindness was disarming—too disarming. In my life, no one had ever been this nice without an ulterior motive, and the unfamiliarity of it set my internal alarms off.

Despite her reassuring words, I instinctively left the heavy bedroom door cracked slightly open behind me—just in case I needed to make a quick exit. It was a defense mechanism born from years of survival, a direct consequence of the heavy sins my father had committed. Trust had never been a luxury I could afford, and now, even the purest gestures of kindness felt like a beautifully disguised trap.

Unaware of the turmoil churning inside me, Essa walked over to a massive wardrobe on the far side of the room. She opened it with practiced ease, scanning rows of elegant dresses before pulling out a stunning red gown. Its rich fabric shimmered beautifully in the sunlight.

“This is perfect,” she said with a satisfied nod, her eyes gleaming with approval.

Swallowing my anxiety, I forced a nod and stepped forward to take the gown from her hands.