I Became the Luna in Chains, She Became the Luna He Loved

In the fifth year of her union to Alpha Xander Ashveil of the Ashveil Pack, Elara attended her triplets’ Moon Academy exhibition.

The teachers had prepared a “fun lineage project.” Every pack family received blood-bond sigils and today the results were displayed upon the crystal screen at the center of the grand hall.

Then, a single glowing line of runes stole the breath from Elara’s lungs.

Father: Xander Ashveil. Mother: Ravenna Silvermane.

Before she could process the words, another parchment shimmered into existence — a glitch in the spell, revealing what had been hidden by Alpha decree.

Surrogate: Elara Windspire. Compensation: 2.5 million moonmarks.

The crowd froze. Then came the whispers.

“Surrogate? A hired womb?”

“So that’s why Alpha Ashveil chose a nameless orphan!”

Laughter rippled through the hall like snapping twigs. Noble wolves leaned closer, their silver eyes gleaming with mockery, pointing at her as if she were tainted prey.

“N-no… it must be an error,” Elara stammered, stepping back as her vision blurred. Her body trembled, yet her voice rose with desperate conviction. “This isn’t true. My mate loves me. He would never…”

Her heeled boots clattered against the marble as she fled. The chill wind bit through her gown as she raced toward the royal stables, shifting halfway, her wolf’s claws scraping the frost-kissed earth. She leapt upon a waiting carriage drawn by night-steeds and tore across the forest road toward the Ivory Moon Palace, where her mate was said to be holding an important council meeting.

When she reached the top floor of the crystal spire, low and mocking laughter drifted through the half-open doors. It froze the blood in her veins.

“Ravenna,” one of the Beta lords chuckled, “Alpha Xander has planned this night for moons. The banquet, the moonflowers from Ironvale, the harpists — ever since your divorce decree was sealed.”

“Xander,” Ravenna murmured softly, her voice smooth as silver mist, “you knew my body could never bear a pup, and so you placed my seed within Elara’s womb — letting her suffer the agony my flesh could not endure. Now that I have returned, what if she learns the truth and despises me?”

Elara’s hand flew to her mouth. She waited… waited for her mate to deny it.

Instead came his calm, steady voice, deep as winter stone.

“All these years she lived in luxury while you were exiled. Now that you stand again under my protection, what she held shall be restored to you tenfold. As for Elara…” He exhaled faintly, dismissive. “She has my crest, my roof, my name. That is her compensation. Delaying her healing ritual for a week will not kill her.”

Laughter followed.

“Back then, we used to joke that he’d never win you, Ravenna,” a lord teased. “As he’s heartbroken, he mated with someone resembled you instead.”

Ravenna’s lips curved in a soft, knowing smile. “Everyone, please… Xander and I are only childhood friends. After all, the real Luna of the Ashveil Pack is still Elara.”

“Is she?” another voice sneered. “Tell us, Xander — how long will you keep playing house with your surrogate Luna? She was never your choice… or have you begun to fall for her?”

Elara’s chest tightened as she felt like a dagger was being twisted in her heart. The silence stretched long, choking her. Every second pressed like a weight against her ribs.

Then Xander’s words came, flat, unshaken. “This was never about love. It was a contract, a transaction, nothing more.”

Her breath hitched. Her stomach churned as though her very soul rejected the truth. Then her crystal communicator pulsed in her palm.

“Luna Ashveil,” the Healer’s voice trembled through the rune-link, “we regret to inform you that due to the delayed treatment, the shadow rot has spread to your womb. You have little time left.”

The banquet faded. Ravenna’s satisfied smile blurred into smoke.

In that instant Elara’s entire world came crashing down.

“All these years,” she whispered, tears tracing her cheeks, “I have been a fool for your love… but from now on, not anymore.”

***

The snowstorm cut at her skin, chilling her to the core, but Elara felt nothing, her body stiff and trembling from shock.

Minutes dragged on like hours as she stayed curled on the ground, water running from her hair, mixing with quiet tears until the sobs broke out, harsh and painful.

Five years ago, her brother had gambled away everything. When the debt-collectors came, her parents were given two choices — silver or flesh. Without hesitation, they offered their only daughter. She was bound to an elder wolf-lord, old enough to be her father.

She still remembered his breath had reeked of blood and decay as he tried to mark her. Her mother’s voice had urged from beyond the door, “Do not resist, or he’ll kill us all.”

That night, Elara shattered the window and leapt into the storm, shards slicing her skin. She ran until the world blurred and then collided with a black-furred Alpha riding through the rain.

“Please,” she had sobbed, clutching his cloak, “don’t let them take me back.”

He studied her with eyes cold as moonstone. “Get her out. We leave now.”

It was at that moment he pulled her inside and leaned close, his breath warm against her ear, his voice laced with command.

“I don’t do charity,” he had said, voice rough. “You remind me of someone. I’ll mold you into her until I forget the difference.”

“If I walk away, they’ll devour you. If I claim you, none will dare touch you. Choose: mine, or prey.”

Her gaze had caught the crest on his signet ring — the same emblem she’d seen on the iron gates where she once sold sweets as a child.

And she remembered the boy who used to sneak her food through the bars, whispering, “One day, you won’t live like this.”

That boy had become Alpha Xander Ashveil — her savior, her doom.

“…I agree,” she’d whispered that night.

He had kissed her wrist where her pulse raced like a frightened fawn, sealing her fate.

For five years she loved him with all she had — only to learn she was nothing but a pups making machine, bought and used until she broke.

When Elara returned to the palace, the triplets’ small boots were lined neatly by the door. She polished them every night without fail. They were her entire world.

“Mother’s home!” they cried, running into her arms.

Elara smiled faintly, hiding her pain. Little Kael toddled forward with a cup of steaming herbal brew.

The first sip burned bitterly. Moments later, her chest tightened. She fell, the cup shattering beside her.

Her sons knelt, tiny hands patting her face as if it were a game.

“Aunt Ravenna said if the sleeping pill doesn’t work, we can use stronger next time,” one murmured.

“Sorry, Mother,” another echoed, repeating words taught to them by Ravenna. “Our family doesn’t need a foolish she-wolf like you. Aunt Ravenna will take care of Father now.”

Elara’s breath trembled. The world spun. Yet even as darkness closed in, her hoarse and defiant voice rose one last time.

“Fine. Keep the title. Keep his name. Call her Luna, mother — take it all.”

The chains that bound her heart shattered. For the first time in years, she felt something new — freedom.

She was done being the perfect Luna. If this crown was forged from lies, she would rather cast it to the wolves.