Luna Sinclair was just about done with these ridiculous, over-the-top, mate-hunting events. Every single year since she turned sixteen, she had been forced to attend the Blood Moon Festival, a night-long extravaganza where every unmated werewolf gathered to be paraded
Luna hated it.
Seriously, what the fuck? Who in their right mind would be excited about standing in an opulent ballroom, stuffed into an overpriced gown that made it impossible to breathe properly.
Her mother, of course, was thrilled about it. "It's a sacred tradition, Luna," she had said countless times, as if repeating it would suddenly make it true for Luna as well.
Luna scoffed. Sacred tradition, her ass. It was just an overly glorified matchmaking service.
By now, all of her childhood friends had already been paired up. Some were well into their happily-ever-afters with a couple of pups running around to prove it. But Luna? She didn't want that life. Not yet, and maybe not ever. She wanted something bigger. She wanted to be a ruler, a leader, a force to be reckoned with, like her father, King Magnus Sinclair. He had built a strong werewolf kingdom into one of the strongest in the region, and she intended to continue his legacy.
She didn't need a man to do that. And even if she did choose to take a mate, it would be on her own terms.
If she was going to have a mate, he needed to be someone of her choosing, maybe a dangerously good-looking alpha, all broad shoulders and smoldering intensity, someone who could handle her strong-willed personality and not whine about it. An equal, not a charity case the Moon Goddess had assigned to her out of pity.
But her father didn't see it that way. Magnus Sinclair, the legendary Alpha King, was getting impatient. He never outright said it, but Luna could tell. He wanted her mated, preferably to another alpha who could bring power and security to their pack. It wasn't that he doubted her abilities, he had trained her himself, after all but he wanted to make sure she had someone to watch her back.
Luna found the whole thing exhausting. She stood at the edge of the ballroom, sipping a glass of sparkling cider and watching as the moon above turned a deep, ominous red.
Oh, here we go. The grand celestial moment.
The murmurs in the room grew into excited whispers as the moon reached its peak. Some of the unmated men practically vibrated with anticipation, their eyes darting around the room, waiting for the bond to slam into them.
Luna wrinkled her nose. It was nauseating.
On the other side of the ballroom, the women were just as eager, eyes bright and hopeful, each one praying that their fated mate was strong, handsome, and preferably from a high-ranking pack. The competition was fierce. The gowns were extravagant, some so tight the wearers could barely walk.
Luna didn't care how powerful they were. She only cared about avoiding this nonsense entirely.
She took another sip of cider and considered slipping out before someone got any ideas about forcing her into a dance. Just as she was about to make her escape, her mother appeared beside her, looking perfectly composed in her deep red gown. Ravena Sinclair was elegant as ever, her dark hair swept up in an elaborate twist, a woman who embodied poise and tradition.
"Let's hope next year will be your year," Ravena said.
Luna barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she took another long sip of her drink, then turned to her mother with an exaggerated look of horror. "You mean I have to do this again?"
Her mother sighed, but a small smirk tugged at her lips. "Look, your academy mate found hers." She nodded toward a young woman across the room, who was currently in the middle of an emotional union with a wide-eyed young man.
Luna glanced at them. "Good for her," she muttered. "Hopefully, he doesn't turn out to be an idiot."
Ravena gave her a sharp look. "Luna."
Luna waved a dismissive hand. "I'm just saying, Mum, isn't this exhausting? Standing around, waiting for some divine intervention to decide my future?"
"Everybody needs to find their mate. This is the most efficient way to do it."
Luna scoffed. "Efficient? I'd rather be out there sparring with warriors than playing dress-up and waiting for fate to throw a man at me."
"Just try to keep an open mind, darling. You never know."
As the night dragged on, more and more pairs found their mates, each discovery marked by either delighted squeals or dramatic gasps. Luna remained unbothered. The moon had already reached its deepest shade of crimson, and she still felt…nothing. No invisible pull, no sudden heart-stopping connection.
Thank the Goddess.
Maybe next year wouldn't be it, either. Maybe she could dodge this whole thing forever. Or maybe she'd find a way to rewrite the rules entirely.
One thing was certain: if Luna Sinclair was going to have a mate, she was going to do it her way. And the Moon Goddess would just have to deal with it.
*****
A few minutes passed, and it became painfully obvious that no one was going to jump her bones and claim her as his mate.
Good. The entire ballroom was suffocating. It was nauseating. The way people practically melted into each other the moment their bond snapped into place made her want to gag.
So fucking what? You found your mate. Now what? Get a room. Preferably one soundproofed and far, far away from her.
She slipped out of the ballroom. The second the cool night air hit her, she sucked in a breath of relief. The sky stretched dark and endless above her, the Blood Moon glowing. The festival grounds still buzzed with activity.
Luna, however, had other plans.
She pulled a cigarette and a lighter from the hidden slit in her dress.
Tucking the cigarette between her lips, she made her way toward the woods.
Luna leaned against a tree, exhaling smoke in a practiced breath. The nicotine did little to calm her frayed nerves, but it was a routine.
Then, she felt it a presence.
She tensed, her senses sharpening instantly.
It was fast.
Her head whipped around, scanning the darkness between the trees, her sharp vision cutting through the shadows.
Suddenly, something slammed into her.
She hit the ground with a force that knocked the wind from her lungs. Twigs snapped beneath her, dirt clinging to the silky fabric of her gown. The weight pressing down on her was inhumanly strong, cold as death.
Oh, you messed with the wrong woman.
Luna bared her teeth, recognizing the body as a vampire.
Her father had trained her for this. She knew exactly how to kill one. Rip their head off.
With a snarl, she shifted.
Her dress absorbed into her transformation, vanishing seamlessly as her body contorted and expanded. Brown fur rippled over her skin, claws extending as her wolf took control. A deep, feral growl tore from her throat as she lunged, aiming straight for the leech's throat.
Then another impact hit her from the left.
Shit. Another one?
She hit the ground but rolled quickly to her paws, shaking off the hit as she sized them up.
They moved in unison, their fangs glistening. Their crimson eyes burned with cold hunger.
Luna sidestepped as one lunged, her wolf instincts kicking in as she grabbed his leg mid-air and yanked, sending him crashing into a tree with a sickening crack. The other one was faster, slamming a fist into her ribs. A sharp pain radiated through her side, forcing a whimper from her throat, but she refused to go down.
She fought, she clawed, she tore at them with everything she had, but they were relentless. Hit after hit, their strength overwhelmed her.
If she didn't shift back, they'd kill her wolf. She had no choice.
With a pained gasp, she forced herself back into human form. She barely had time to catch her breath before they lunged, fangs bared, ready to tear into her flesh.
There was a flash of movement again. What the fuck was happening around here? When did this become vampire feeding ground.
But the new figure crashed into them with an impact so powerful it shook the trees.
Luna could only watch, dazed, as the newcomer took hold of both vampires, gripping their heads in his hands as though they weighed nothing. With one brutal twist, he yanked, ripping their heads from their bodies in one effortless motion.
Their bodies slumped to the ground, lifeless.
He dropped their heads with casual indifference, brushing off his suit before turning to her.
And holy fuck.
He was tall, looked absolutely delicious, dressed in dark, tailored clothing that hugged his body. His dark hair was tousled just enough to be effortlessly sexy.
His eyes locked onto hers.
He approached her. "Hey there," he said smoothly. "Sorry about that. Rogue vampires have no self-control."
Before she could respond, a red string shimmered into existence, wrapping around their wrists.
Luna's breath caught.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
This wasn't happening.
A vampire?
Was someone fucking kidding her?
His lips quirked into a devastating smirk. "Well, look at that. Only took me a few centuries, but I found you."
(My first fantasy book 'Defying the Rogue Alpha' is doing so good, I decided to try my hands at another one. We'll see how this one goes)