Luna was already turning away, her hands clenched at her sides. "Oh, fuck off, Kyllian!"
She stormed ahead. Kyllian grinned, watching her go, admiration flickering in his amused gaze.
"Get your things ready, Princess," he called after her, completely unbothered. "We leave in a few minutes."
She didn't look back.
She just raised her arm high in the air and gave him the finger.
He laughed. Loudly. Oh, this was going to be fun.
*****
Kyllian knew that bringing Luna here was going to mess with his head in more ways than one. He wasn't a romantic. He wasn't soft. And he definitely wasn't the kind of Alpha who spent his time fluffing pillows and drawing bubble baths for a royal mate. That kind of pampering might've been her norm back in the castle where golden trays delivered breakfast in bed but this… this was real life. Pack life. Dirt. Sweat. Loyalty. Duty.
She was going to be his Luna, not some pampered tiara-wearing accessory who smiled and waved while sipping imported wine. No, she had to earn her place here. His people had to respect her. Love her. Trust her. Which meant she couldn't waltz in acting like she owned the place and expect to be treated like a queen.
She stood beside him, her hair gently tousled, gazing up at the packhouse—the one that would soon become her home—Kyllian forced himself to focus. This was good. This was manageable. He wasn't going to combust. Probably.
"It's… nice," Luna said. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.
"Thank you," Kyllian responded, lips twitching slightly. He resisted the urge to puff his chest out. It wasn't a palace, but it was theirs.
Of course, that moment of quiet pride shattered the second Talon strutted into view.
"Oh, Your Highness, Your Very Royal Highness," Talon drawled with a deep, theatrical bow. "Welcome. We weren't expecting you until after the royal wedding."
Kyllian groaned. "Talon, pick your jaw up off the floor before it collects dust."
Talon scowled at him, clearly unbothered. He glanced at Luna with exaggerated reverence. "My Princess…"
Luna laughed, the sound light and almost musical. "You can just call me Luna. We're not in the castle anymore."
Kyllian glanced sideways at her. That laugh? Yeah. That was dangerous. That was how she'd get under everyone's skin. Especially his.
"The goddess forbids it!" Talon exclaimed dramatically, stumbling back with a horrified expression. "Such disrespect!"
"Luna, this is my idiot beta."
Talon, completely unbothered by the insult, gave an exaggerated bow. "Automatically your personal assistant, my princess. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. You want his dick sliced off because he pisses you off? I'm your man. I even have a ceremonial dagger for the occasion. Decorated."
Luna burst into a fit of laughter that echoed off the beams of the packhouse's porch. The sound was light, unguarded. She leaned against the railing for support, wiping tears from her eyes. "For now, just some rest. The road here was a nightmare. I swear, I thought the car was going to collapse."
"Note to self," Talon said, already halfway up the steps with her luggage. "Have Alpha Kyllian fix road."
Luna watched him with amusement and then turned to Kyllian, a brow raised. "Your people talk to you this way?"
Kyllian gave a short laugh, warm and low. "No. Talon's just an idiot. But a loyal one. Besides, I do love my people. I'd give everything for them. And I expect the same from my Luna."
The sincerity in his voice made her pause. That was the thing about Kyllian—he could be maddening, sarcastic, infuriating even, but when he spoke about his people, there was fire in his eyes. Duty. Passion. Purpose. It was magnetic, and Luna found herself drawn to it more than she liked.
He led her through a corridor. "The Luna's quarters is still being renovated. It's tradition—you don't get to step foot in there until you're officially Luna. So for now, you'll stay in the guest room in my quarters."
"Ah," she nodded, grateful and a bit suspicious of how comfortable she already felt here. "Of course. I didn't get to thank you for helping me with this getaway, by the way." She turned to look at him. "So… thank you."
Kyllian's brow arched in reply, mischief already bubbling behind his eyes. "You're still taking the marriage class."
Luna's face twisted. "Son of a bitch!"
*****
Night came gently over the pack, and the forest hummed with life. The chirping of crickets filled the air, harmonizing with the croaks of distant frogs and the occasional howl carried by the wind.
But despite the calm, the comfort of the bed, Luna couldn't sleep. Her body was still, but her heart wasn't.
She missed him.
Not Kyllian—though, gods help her, his presence was starting to do strange things to her hormones—but Damien.
She had given up love for duty.
Kyllian would make a good king. But he wasn't her fated mate. And no one—not the kingdom, not her parents, not even Kyllian—knew what she'd sacrificed.
She turned to face the window, blinking back a single tear that slipped free before she could stop it.
She had been told countless stories about the legendary mate bond—that inexplicable, soul-deep tether between two wolves, or in her case; one wolf and a vampire. She used to roll her eyes. As far as she was concerned, it was just an excuse for overgrown puppies to act like horny rabbits with poor impulse control. Love? Destiny? No thank you. Luna had always considered herself above all that.
But now... in Damien's absence, what she felt was beyond mere longing. It was a hollow ache that throbbed in her chest, settling in her bones. It wasn't natural. It wasn't fair.
And worse, in Kyllian's presence, she felt something else entirely—an inconvenient, entirely physical awareness. Her skin buzzed when he was near. Her spine tingled when he spoke. He made her furious, yes, but also… warm. Which, frankly, was annoying.
Unable to sleep and feeling suffocated, she crept barefoot onto the balcony of the Alpha's quarters. The night air kissed her bare arms and danced along the hem of her silk nightdress. It was cold, but she welcomed it. Let it numb the part of her that still clung to memories of Damien. That's all she had now—memories. She held onto them.
"Are you waiting for someone?"