His Contracted Luna

POV Sage Winters

The phone's vibration jolted me awake at two in the morning. Kieran's name glowed on the screen.

A voice message. Background music thumping, his words slurred. "Baby... miss you... wish you were here..."

Then another message appeared. "Shit wrong person—"

It vanished. Deleted.

My heart stuttered. Wrong person. I pushed the thought away—maybe he'd been texting one of his frat brothers. Maybe it was nothing.

But my hands were already opening Find My Friends.

The little blue dot appeared. Moonlight Ridge Overlook.

The overlook was a notorious spot for couples. Kieran had said he was at a reunion downtown.

"There must be an explanation," I whispered. Silver stirred uneasily, but I ignored her.

I should call him. Give him a chance to explain.

Instead, I found myself pulling on jeans and a jacket.

The drive up the winding mountain road passed in a blur. The full moon hung overhead, massive and silver, painting everything in pale light.

"Maybe the reunion moved locations," I said aloud, needing to hear the words.

My eyes flashed gold in the rearview mirror. I blinked hard, forcing them back to normal.

Silver was growling now, low and insistent. And my hands were trembling against the wheel.

The parking lot appeared nearly deserted. Only a few vehicles scattered across the gravel.

There. In the far corner. Kieran's black Mercedes SUV.

The windows were fogged, but the car was still.

"See? He's probably just sleeping it off. Too drunk to drive home."

I killed my engine and opened my door. The night air was cool against my flushed skin.

And then I heard it.

Faint. Almost imperceptible. A soft gasp that definitely wasn't Kieran's voice.

I froze.

Another sound. Rhythmic. The subtle creak of suspension.

No. I was imagining things.

I forced myself to walk forward. My enhanced hearing picked up more now. Breathing. Heavy and quick. Two distinct patterns.

A moan cut through the night. Unmistakably female.

The world tilted. This wasn't happening. There was still an explanation.

I moved closer, my feet carrying me forward even as my mind screamed to stop.

The sounds grew clearer. Gasping. The wet slide of skin on skin.

"God, Kieran..." The voice was breathy, young, familiar.

No. Not that voice.

I was at the car now, close enough to see the silhouettes moving in the fogged rear window.

My hand touched the cold metal. Still, I didn't open it. Some desperate part of me clung to the last shred of doubt.

"...sure she won't find out?" The female voice again.

Kieran's laugh, rough and satisfied. "She's asleep... stupid girl never suspects..."

The words hit me like silver bullets.

"You're so much better than her..." His breathing was heavy.

"You're terrible." A giggle. That voice. Celeste. "What about the money though?"

"The trust fund? Two million. Her mother left it all to her." Kieran's voice turned smug. "And she's so fucking in love with me, she'll sign anything I put in front of her."

The ground seemed to shift beneath my feet.

"You've been playing her this whole time?" Celeste's voice carried admiration.

"Three years of pretending to give a shit." Kieran groaned. "But it'll be worth it. Another week and I'll have her add me as beneficiary."

"What if she finds out before—"

"She won't. She's too stupid. Too desperate for someone to love her." He laughed. "Pathetic little orphan girl, so grateful anyone wants her..."

Something inside me shattered.

Not broke. Shattered. Like glass exploding into a thousand razor-sharp fragments, each one cutting deeper than the last.

Pathetic. Stupid. Desperate. The words echoed in my skull, bouncing off the inside of my head until they were all I could hear.

Three years. Three years of lies.

I grabbed the door handle and pulled.

The handle snapped off. The door flew open with a screech of tortured metal.

Kieran and Celeste screamed as they scrambled apart, grabbing desperately for clothing.

I stood in the moonlight, my eyes blazing gold.

"Please," I said, my voice deadly calm. "Don't stop on my account."

I raised my phone. The camera shutter began clicking, rapid-fire, capturing every detail.

"Sage!" Kieran lunged forward. "It's not—give me that—"

My hand shot out, tangling in his hair. I slammed his head into the door frame.

Blood immediately began streaming from a gash on his forehead.

"Oops," I said pleasantly. "My hand slipped."

I planted my foot against his bare chest and shoved. He flew backward, crashing into Celeste.

My phone kept clicking. Evidence.

Celeste recovered first, her shock melting into calculation. She climbed out slowly, wrapping Kieran's jacket around herself.

"Well, cousin dear." She pulled out a cigarette. "Since you've caught us, I suppose there's no point pretending."

"Kieran and I have been together for four months." She took a long drag. "He says I'm much more exciting than you."

Silver snarled, but I kept my expression blank.

"Your timing is perfect. Father's trying to force me into marriage with that crippled Alpha." She waved her cigarette. "But now I have the perfect excuse to refuse. What Alpha wants damaged goods?"

"You think this gets you out of a political marriage?" I asked coldly.

"Father can hardly force me when I'm clearly in love," Celeste smirked. "Thanks for the help."

Kieran stumbled out, blood streaming down his face. His hand grabbed my wrist hard enough to draw blood.

"You bitch," he snarled. "You'll ruin everything—"

I grabbed his wrist, pivoted, and threw him over my shoulder. He crashed onto the Mercedes hood, triggering the alarm.

"Whoop whoop whoop!"

Kieran coughed blood. His eyes shifted gold-green as his wolf surfaced.

"Your uncle's already arranged your marriage! Since Celeste won't take that cripple, you're next!" He growled. "I've heard stories about Thorne Ashford—they say he's a sadist, that his last two fiancées went insane—"

Headlights swept across the lot. A black Maserati pulled in.

I grabbed Kieran's jaw. "A cripple? A sadist?" I leaned close. "Still sounds better than you."

I held up my phone. "One more word, and every wolf in Greywood City will see you two exactly like this."

His face went white. Celeste was seventeen. Underage in pack law.

The Maserati's door opened. A tall figure emerged, Alpha aura washing over the lot in waves.

His eyes gleamed amber-gold in the moonlight. He'd heard everything.

I turned to leave, but he was already leaning against my car. The scent of cedarwood and leather hit me, followed by a pulling sensation so strong I nearly staggered.

I stepped back, my expression hardening.

He studied me, something dark flickering in his eyes. He noticed the blood on my arm.

"Quite a show." He offered a silk handkerchief. "You should treat that."

"Move," I said coldly.

"That conversation was interesting." He stepped closer. "Cheating boyfriend. Scheming cousin. Forced marriage. Sounds like you need a solution."

"What are you talking about?"

"A contract marriage. Three months. I help you reclaim your inheritance. You help me solve some complications of my own."