Elara POV

His hand gripped the brass doorknob, the metal groaning slightly under his immense strength.

"Alpha, wait," I called out.

My voice was a soft tremor, perfectly pitched for a frightened Omega, but the words I chose were sharp and deliberate. Kaelen paused, his broad back stiffening, but he didn't turn around.

"If you walk out that door tonight, the Pack will know," I said, keeping my gaze fixed on the floorboards. "They will smell the Rejection on me by morning. The servants will whisper, and the Elders will doubt the strength of this alliance."

He slowly turned his head, his ice-blue eyes narrowing as they locked onto me. He hadn't expected this. He had braced himself for tears, not a calculated political assessment.

"With Rogues testing the northern borders, the Blackwood Pack cannot afford a Luna who is publicly discarded on her wedding night," I continued, letting my shoulders slump to maintain my submissive posture. "It will breed instability. For the dignity and safety of the Pack... please stay."

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I could see the gears turning in his mind, his Alpha instincts warring with the cursed blood that demanded isolation. He searched my face for any hidden ambition, but I offered him nothing but the hollow duty of a pawn.

"Fine," Kaelen finally gritted out, his jaw tight. He released the doorknob and stepped back into the room. "But the bed is large. My side. Your side. Do not cross the middle."

"Thank you, Alpha," I murmured.

He moved toward the center of the room, his movements rigid as he began to shrug off his heavy suit jacket. Seeing an opportunity to test the absolute limits of his boundaries, I stepped forward, reaching out with the dutiful grace expected of a traditional Luna.

"Allow me, Alpha," I said softly.

I didn't even make contact. The moment my hand entered his personal space, the air in the room instantly crystallized. A feral, chest-rattling growl ripped from his throat, vibrating violently against my ribs.

"Don't," he snarled, his voice dropping to a lethal, beastly octave that commanded absolute obedience. "Touch."

I immediately shrank back, bowing my head deeply. "Forgive me."

He snatched the jacket off his own shoulders and threw it over a chair, his chest heaving. The sheer panic beneath his anger confirmed my suspicions. His aversion wasn't just disgust; it was a desperate, cursed survival instinct. I had found his absolute limit.

Hours later, the massive king-sized bed felt like a frozen battlefield. I lay on the extreme edge, the suffocating scent of Siberian cedar and winter frost keeping me painfully awake until sheer exhaustion finally dragged me under.

But sleep offered no mercy.

The familiar nightmares came—the deafening crash of thunder, the freezing rain, the night my mother died. The cold seeped into my bones, hollowing me out, leaving me shivering in the dark void of my memories.

In the depths of my unconscious state, my survival instincts took over. I needed warmth. I drifted across the mattress, drawn blindly to the only source of heat in the freezing room. A radiating, intoxicating furnace.

I sighed, my face pressing into something solid and burning hot. My arm draped over a thick, muscular chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his sleepwear. As my breath fanned across his skin, releasing a heavy, unsuppressed wave of my wild hyacinth scent, the massive body beneath me instantly turned to stone.

A sharp, ragged intake of breath pierced the silence, followed by a violent shudder that felt like a predator desperately fighting its own chains.

Kaelen POV

Her fingers curled into the fabric of my sleepwear, and fire laced through my veins.

It was an agonizing, tearing sensation. The curse that poisoned my blood screamed in violent revulsion, a searing pain demanding I shove her away before I lost control and shattered her fragile human frame. But my Inner Wolf clawed at the forefront of my mind, roaring with a deafening, possessive fury that shook my very core.

MATE! MINE! PULL HER CLOSER! PROTECT!

I gritted my teeth, my jaw locking so hard it ached. My muscles trembled violently as I carefully, painstakingly extracted my arm from her grasp. I forced my mind away from the intoxicating, heavy wave of her wild hyacinth scent, anchoring my thoughts to the cold, hard data of the recent Rogue incursions on the northern border.

When she murmured in her sleep, shifting as if to close the distance again, I acted. I grabbed the heavy, plush duvet, rolled it into a thick cylinder, and shoved it firmly down the center of the massive mattress. An impenetrable no-man's-land. I spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, my heart hammering against my ribs, wondering if her touch was an innocent nightmare or a calculated, seductive snare.

The next morning, the answer seemed to lean toward the latter.

I stood near the doorway of the dressing room, watching as Hattie, my senior Omega servant, collected the bed linens. Hattie's professional mask slipped into a subtle, satisfied smile as she gathered the sheets. The air in the room was thick with a faint, fabricated blend of my Siberian cedar and Elara's hyacinths.

Herbs. The little Omega had crushed herbs into the sheets to fake the scent of a consummated Mating. It was a brilliant, deceptive ruse to fool the Pack and the Elders. Hattie left the room, eager to report her "findings," leaving me staring at my new Luna. She was resourceful, I had to give her that. But it only solidified my resolve to keep her at arm's length.

An hour later, the Great Hall felt like a frozen battlefield.

My father, Bruce, sat impassive at the head of the heavy oak table, but my stepmother, Lady Debbra, eyed Elara with undisguised contempt.

"Let's hope the Moon Goddess blesses this union with strong pups," Debbra said, her voice carrying clearly over the clinking of stoneware. She took a slow sip of her tea. "A Pack's future is built on the strength of its heirs' Inner Wolves, after all."

The thinly veiled insult hung in the air like poison, a direct strike at Elara's wolfless status. A low, warning growl rumbled deep in my chest, my wolf bristling at the disrespect shown to our Mate. Yet Elara merely offered a serene, unreadable smile, gracefully thanking Debbra for her "concern."

Before Debbra could push further, the heavy oak doors opened. My three adopted sons—Jaxon, Asher, and Leo—were ushered in to greet their new mother. They stood stiffly, their small faces wary and guarded.

As Jaxon stepped forward and bowed his head respectfully, Elara's gaze sharpened. She didn't look at his face; she looked at his feet.

"Lift your foot, sweetheart," she murmured gently.

He hesitated, then obeyed. I saw it then—the worn leather of his boots straining at the seams, clearly pinching his toes.

"Those can't be comfortable," Elara said, her voice devoid of pity but full of practical warmth. "I'll make you a new pair today."

A distant, private look flickered through her unwavering eyes, as if summoning a ghost from a life no one else could see. In my last life, as the Alpha King's discarded Luna, I had been a prisoner in a gilded cage, she remembered, the memory a cold, hollow ache in her chest. Endless, suffocating hours were spent locked in my chambers, with no power and no pack. To keep my hands busy and my mind from unraveling, an old housekeeper—a kind woman from the countryside—had taught me the art of leatherworking. Crafting boots, stitching tunics... it was the only skill I possessed that had felt truly real, a way to mend things in a world constantly tearing me apart. And now, that skill would serve a new purpose: mending the trust of a child.

Shame hit me like a physical blow, hot and suffocating. I, the Alpha who oversaw the welfare of the entire Blackwood Pack, had missed my own son's basic pain.

My wolf purred with deep approval at her maternal instinct, but my mind narrowed into a sharp, suspicious point. I watched her gentle hands resting near Jaxon, desperately trying to decipher if I was looking at genuine compassion, or the most flawless, manipulative performance I had ever witnessed.

Elara POV

The heavy silence in the Great Hall was absolute. I kept my hand resting gently near Jaxon, feeling the collective weight of the Blackwood Pack's elite staring at me. Kaelen’s gaze was a burning weight against my skin, thick with a mixture of shame and intense suspicion.

Before the Alpha could speak, a saccharine, mocking laugh shattered the quiet.

"Oh, look at her, playing the doting mother," Britteny Hale sneered, her voice dripping with venom. Kaelen’s half-sister leaned back in her carved oak chair, her eyes raking over me with undisguised disgust. "One might almost forget you're just a barren, *wolfless* Omega, incapable of giving our Alpha true, strong-blooded heirs."

The insult echoed off the timber-beamed ceiling, a direct and vicious attack on my value as a Luna. The air grew thick with the scent of bristling wolves. I felt the eyes of the entire table waiting for me to crumble, to shrink back into the submissive shell expected of my rank.

Instead, I met her hostile glare with absolute calm.

"They are the Alpha's sons in all but blood," I replied, my voice steady and carrying clearly across the long table. "As his Mate and Luna, they are mine to protect. That is my duty."

Britteny’s face flushed with sudden, violent fury. Her status as a high-born she-wolf had just been challenged by the lowest rank in the Pack, and her pride couldn't take it. She opened her mouth, her canines elongating as she prepared to escalate the confrontation.

"Enough, Britteny!"

Elder Seraphina’s voice cut through the tension like a silver blade. The sharp command instantly silenced the hall. Seraphina fixed her granddaughter with a stern, unforgiving glare.

"A Luna's care for the Pack's young is a virtue, and your behavior this morning is a disgrace to the Hale name," Seraphina stated, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You will show your Luna the respect she is owed."

Publicly rebuked by the most powerful elder in the Pack, Britteny snapped her mouth shut. She sank back into her chair, her face pale with humiliation, though the hatred burning in her eyes only deepened.

I kept my expression neutral, but inside, my mind was working rapidly. From my past life, I knew exactly where Britteny’s obsession with blood purity stemmed from. She and her mother, Lady Debbra, despised these three pups because their father was merely a Beta who had died saving Kaelen. To the arrogant Hale women, a lower-class wolf’s sacrifice was simply their duty, not something worthy of elevating his 'common' children to the Alpha's table.

With the immediate conflict suppressed, Elder Seraphina turned her piercing gaze to me. Her expression softened marginally, but the calculation in her eyes remained sharp.

"My dear, you've just arrived," Seraphina said gently, though her words carried the weight of law. "Focus on the children for now. We shall not burden you with the complexities of the Luna's duties yet. The running of the Pack House will remain with Lady Debbra."

It was a test, framed as a kindness. She was withholding my rightful power to observe me, unsure if a wolfless Omega could handle the intricate politics of the Alpha's household.

I immediately lowered my head in a picture-perfect display of respect. "Of course, Elder Seraphina. Lady Debbra is far more experienced, and I have much to learn. I am happy to focus on the boys."

Seraphina nodded, seemingly satisfied with my compliant and humble response.

Let them underestimate me. Let them think I crave the petty power of holding the keys to the pantry. My goal was never the household ledger; it was the key to the Alpha's heart. And that path ran directly through his sons.

Breakfast concluded in a stiff, formal silence. As the elders and warriors began to disperse, I turned my attention back to Jaxon. Up close, I noticed a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his small hands were subtly pressing against his stomach. He looked pale and lethargic.

"Come, boys," I said softly, standing up and offering Jaxon my hand. "It's too stuffy in here. Let's go get some fresh air in the gardens outside the Alpha's office."