Chapter 6 The Alpha’s Shadow

The packhouse felt heavier than usual that morning, the air thick with anticipation and unspoken scrutiny. Every footstep I took echoed against the stone floors, a reminder that as Luna, I was always being watched—every move, every gesture analyzed by the pack, by the elders, and, most of all, by Darius.

He was already in the courtyard when I arrived, tall and commanding in his leather training vest, the muscles of his arms rippling as he addressed the guards. His eyes swept over the pack, sharp and calculating, but when they landed on me, I felt that familiar weight, the pull of his gaze pressing against my chest.

I should have felt pride. I should have felt belonging. But my heart thudded erratically, a rhythm that belonged to someone else entirely. Kieran.

During morning drills, my wolf fidgeted beneath my skin, restless, impatient. Every strike I delivered with precision—every parry, block, and kick—felt hollow because my mind wandered, conjuring his silver-blue eyes, the brush of his hand, the warmth of his chest pressed against mine under the forest’s moonlit canopy.

Darius noticed my distraction, I knew. His gaze lingered a second too long, the tiniest flicker of concern or suspicion in his dark eyes. But he said nothing. Instead, he adjusted my stance with a firm hand, pressing me into the proper form with authority that left my body tingling.

“You’ve been tense, Lyra,” he murmured, low enough that only I could hear. “The bond doesn’t demand perfection, but it does demand attention.”

I nodded, swallowing the tightness in my throat. “I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a breath that felt too heavy to be true.

Later, I escaped to the eastern balcony, overlooking the forest. My heart pulled me toward the shadows beyond the trees, toward Kieran, toward the forbidden. I closed my eyes and let my wolf rise, her instincts guiding me. The Moonlight shone on the mark Darius had left on my wrist, a constant reminder that I was his—body, mind, and soul.

And yet…

I could feel Kieran’s presence, faint but undeniable, brushing against the edges of my thoughts. He was close. Somewhere out there, waiting. And every instinct in me urged me to run, to leave the safety of the packhouse, to risk everything.

I didn’t know how long I had been standing there when I sensed him again. This time, it was stronger, sharper, more urgent. My wolf growled low and warningly, her claws digging beneath my skin.

I didn’t hesitate. I followed the pull into the forest, leaving behind the packhouse, leaving behind Darius, leaving behind every rule I had ever known. The trees whispered, shadows shifting beneath the silver light, guiding me deeper.

And then I saw him—Kieran—leaning against the trunk of an old oak, eyes sharp and stormy, like he had been waiting for me.

“You came back,” he said, his voice low, tinged with relief and something more—something I couldn’t name.

“I had to,” I admitted, my voice trembling despite my attempts at composure. “The Moon… the bond… something… I feel you, Kieran. I can’t ignore it.”

His eyes softened, but there was a tension there, a warning. “You shouldn’t,” he whispered. “You’re his Luna now. The Alpha’s Luna. You belong to him.”

I swallowed hard. “Belonging isn’t the same as feeling.”

Kieran stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, magnetic. “Then what do you feel, Lyra?”

The question struck me like lightning. My chest ached, my pulse raced, and I realized I had no answer—not one I could speak aloud.

Before either of us could say more, a rustle in the underbrush froze us both. My wolf bristled, sensing danger, while my human instincts screamed.

Two figures emerged—rogues, not from my pack. One tall, masked by shadows; the other smaller but lethal. They circled, snarling, their claws glinting in the moonlight.

Kieran’s stance shifted immediately, defensive, protective. “Get behind me,” he ordered.

I obeyed, heart hammering, instincts coiling. My wolf roared silently in anticipation, ready to defend, ready to kill if necessary.

The fight erupted faster than thought. Kieran moved with the fluidity of a predator, swift and precise, and I felt an unspoken connection in our movements. Every strike I landed, every maneuver I executed, was guided by instinct, by adrenaline, by a bond that transcended explanation.

And through it all, my heart betrayed me, drawn to him with every heartbeat.

When the last rogue fell to the forest floor, silent, I collapsed against a tree, trembling. My hands were raw from combat, my chest heaving with exhaustion and exhilaration. Kieran approached, brushing a strand of hair from my face, and I felt that same electric pull that had haunted me since the first night I found him.

“You’re incredible,” he said, voice low, dangerous, and intimate. “And reckless beyond belief.”

“I’m your Luna,” I said, the words escaping before I could stop them. Not Darius’s Luna, not the pack’s Luna—mine, in that moment, for him.

Kieran’s eyes flickered with something I couldn’t name—pride, desire, understanding. “And I would follow you anywhere,” he said.

The next morning, I returned to the packhouse, my body still trembling, my heart still racing. Darius was there, watching, silent, perceptive as always.

“You’ve been gone a long time,” he said, voice smooth, calm, dangerous. “Did you patrol the borders?”

“Yes,” I lied, bowing my head. “I… needed space.”

Darius’s eyes darkened, a shadow of concern—or suspicion—passing across his features. “The bond is not just a ceremony, Lyra. It connects us. If you stray, even in thought, the Moon feels it.”

My chest tightened. “I am… devoted, Darius,” I whispered.

He studied me, searching, and for a moment, I swore he knew. He did not, or at least he did not speak. Instead, he placed a hand on my shoulder, firm and possessive. “Good. You will need all your strength soon. Darkness is stirring in the borders, and the pack must be ready.”

I nodded, hiding the fire in my heart, the pulse of danger and desire that beat for someone else.

And yet… I knew the shadows were watching, waiting. Kieran’s presence lingered at the edges of my mind, drawing me toward the unknown, toward temptation, toward danger.

Because love, like the Moon, is never simple.

And neither is destiny.