Not His Luna,But the Lycan's Queen

ht my fated mate, Alpha Lucas, was suppose

me crash into the dirt and shatter my c

knelt before Jessica, a fake city

e of every ou

harm I had sacrificed my own finger to win f

when a rabid rogue wolf att

t shift to

from my hand, shoved me to the g

ing in the snow

ugh my flesh, the eight years I spen

could pair me with a man who would so rut

't die in

ot to grovel, but standing shoulder-to-

who abandoned me, I calmly

ject you, Luca

pte

rra

rrying not the scent of dry leaves but t

, the most hallowed tradit

fabric of my late mother's red dre

of my hair were woven ni

the Mate'

lf pairs every wolf with a destined co

tual chase, she binds him with these ribbons, ty

ucas, the Alp

d, his voice a low thunder that coul

he invisible tether of our bond had been confirmed

ga, a wolf born to the lowest r

attention to the ceremony, to the low, guttural pulse

sharp, welcome agony as my bones unlocked and resha

ixed upon the hulking shadow of a black wolf t

ca

ering with the urge to shift ba

wolf curled its lip in a gesture of profound contempt, sideste

y, but in a violent, sprawling heap across the packed dirt. My damaged leg

st, the air bur

d wolves ceased, plunging the cle

human form emerging from

id line as he strode through the parted crowd and cam

city who had appeared some months ago with

fume hung in the air like a chemical burn, a

less submission than theater, L

scarf, the venerated symbol of the

s madness? Sierra

a shard of i

that binds us all, and the thought belonged t

al syllable dripping with a cold, dismissive disgust. "She is a creature of

built behind my eyes

y with a new kind of exhaustion,

as ruined, caked in

an detached himself from the silent

territory, a perpetual outsider, always watching, always sile

urrounding stench of damp earth, and under its invisible pressure, the muscles acros

a broken quiet, let out a low,

but a bulwark, a solid, living

orry," a voice chirped, sharp

, pressing herself a

nly here to observe your quaint traditions for my blo

her waist. He looked down at me, his

focating pressure of his Alpha aura, a force

d, his voice a low rasp. "The pack requires the stre

on flooded t

way she fell?

he would choose her

n utte

at all, but sharp, deliberate

turned the dampness

and felt not the tearing of a soul, but the quiet, f

d up to

sconnected from my own body, I beg

the s

the t

he air thickened as his aura

furious heat

ss had chosen for me, and held them out to the silent stranger at my side. And for th