HE REJECTED ME FOR MY YOUNGER SISTER

For twenty years, I stood beside Alpha Callan. I bore his mark, gave him a son, held our pack together while he traveled for alliances and war. I learned every name in the Crescent Ash Pack, every birthday, every death. I stitched wounds with my hands, buried warriors with my tears, and kissed my son goodnight alone more times than I care to admit.

But tonight, as I sit across from him at our long, polished dining table, I wonder when I started to disappear.

Callan sips his wine. The firelight flickers off the silver streaks in his dark hair, and his face is relaxed, unreadable.

I speak quietly, as if my voice still has a right to fill this space. “Do you remember the promise you made me before we mated? That one day, when things settled, you’d take me to see the northern lights?”

He doesn’t look up. Instead, he cuts a slice of meat and chews slowly, deliberately. When he finally speaks, it’s without emotion. “Selene, that was a long time ago. You’re not still holding onto that, are you?”

I force a smile, brittle. “It’s just… with Elias grown, and the pack stable, I thought—”

Callan’s chair scrapes back abruptly. “You thought wrong. We have obligations. Our son just took on more leadership responsibilities, and I need to prepare for the alliance tour next week.”

“But I could come,” I say before I can stop myself. “It would mean a lot.”

His eyes flick to mine, sharp and cold. “Don’t be childish.”

I flinch. I want to say something, anything, but my throat closes. I’ve faced enemy rogues in the dead of winter and stood strong, but here, in my own home, his words cut deeper than any claw.

At the far end of the hall, laughter erupts. Elias, our son, is sitting with his mate, Anaiah, going over travel documents. I can see them grinning, flushed with excitement. They’re leaving soon. Callan too.

My heart stutters. “Am I not going with you?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he turns his back and pours another glass of wine.

That’s when I know.

I rise from the table in silence. My footsteps echo against the stone floor as I head toward the study. I need to see it for myself.

The drawer creaks open beneath my fingers. I find the documents easily—Callan’s never been careful about hiding things from me. Five tickets, tucked inside a sleek black folder.

Callan. Elias. Anaiah.

Our Beta, Darius. And… Astrid.

My breath catches.

Astrid. My younger sister. The one who left the pack years ago for “freedom.” The one who never once came to visit, never sent a letter when Mother died. She’s returning now, apparently—to take my place.

I blink back the sting in my eyes.

I remember when we were girls, before all the bitterness. She used to braid my hair while we lay on the grass under the stars. She called me Moonheart back then. Said I looked like the moon had kissed my soul.

Now, the only kiss left is betrayal.

The door creaks open. Callan’s voice follows, calm, unaffected. “Don’t touch those."

I straighten, holding the folder shaking hands. “You invited Astrid.”

“She’s important to the diplomatic effort. She's… elegant. Knows how to speak to foreign alphas.”

I stare at him. “But I’m your Luna.”

His eyes narrow. “You were.”

The silence following that word nearly chokes me. I take a step back, the folder slipping from my hands and hitting the floor with a soft thud.

Callan doesn’t move.

“I gave you everything,” I whisper. “My youth. My strength. My body. I gave you a son. I gave up my own dreams—”

“You gave me what any Luna would,” he says flatly. “Don’t make yourself into some tragic figure, Selene.”

I laugh bitterly. “You’re taking her, and not me.”

He shrugs. “You’re not suited for public diplomacy. Astrid... she knows how to shine.”

He turns and walks away like it’s settled, like none of this matters. The echo of his footsteps in the hallway feels like a drumbeat pounding into my chest.

I return to our bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. The weight of the silence in this room, once sacred, is unbearable.

I stare at the full-length mirror. My hair is beginning to gray at the temples. There are fine lines near my eyes. But I am not weak. I am not small.

I am Luna.

I look down at my hands—scarred, calloused, strong. These hands delivered Elias. They killed the pack. They kept this house together.

But none of that matters now.

The door opens again, this time softer.

Elias pokes his head in, guilt already painted on his face. “Mom, I—Dad told me not to say anything, but… I’m sorry. I wanted you to come. Really, I did.”

I nod slowly. “It’s fine. You go. Follow your path.”

He lingers, clearly wanting to say more, but he doesn’t. He walks away, closing the door behind him.

I’m left alone in the dark.

A sound buzzes from Callan’s phone on the dresser. I shouldn’t touch it, but my fingers move before my mind can object.

One new message from Astrid:

“Make sure she doesn’t cause a scene. We can’t have the old Luna ruining our perfect little tour.”

My hands go numb.

I stare at the screen, my reflection faint on the black glass.

The moonlight spills through the window, cool and pale against my skin.