The Luna Who Wasn't Chosen

Thalia

The Moon Festival was never meant for girls like her.

Not for the healer’s apprentice. Not for the quiet one who stood at the edge of bonfires, pretending to smile while others danced under starlight and moonsilver. Not for the girl without a bloodline worth remembering.

And yet, there Thalia stood, dressed in borrowed silk that didn’t fit her right, with jasmine oil behind her ears and her heart pounding like it was trying to escape.

The music pulsed through the clearing, loud and wild, as pack wolves reveled in the promise of fated mates and Luna blessings. The moon was full and white as bone, it hung above, watching with ancient indifference.

She shouldn’t have come.

Her fingers twisted the edge of her shawl as she watched Cassian, Alpha of Moonridge, stalk through the crowd. He moved like a storm in a room full of candles, too dangerous, too magnetic.

He was smiling, barely. Tossing nods at warriors, stopping to greet the Elder Council, then continuing toward the ceremonial circle.

Thalia's stomach knotted. She turned to leave. She didn’t belong here.

A voice cut through the haze. “You smell like jasmine.”

She jumped, startled. Cassian stood before her, closer than he’d ever been. She blinked. “Alpha Cassian.”

His gaze was unreadable, a war between recognition and something deeper. “Thalia.”

A pause stretched between them like a string pulled taut.

He tilted his head. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I—I was invited. Nova insisted. Said everyone should come.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest. “Nova’s always been reckless.”

She shrank back, but something in his expression shifted. A flicker of something raw, almost panic. Then he stepped even closer, nostrils flaring.

“No,” he murmured. “No, this isn’t right…”

The drums behind them thundered louder, the rhythm matching her racing heart. And then...

Cassian grabbed her arm.

She gasped as warmth exploded under her skin, his hand searing against hers.

He inhaled sharply. “Fates, it’s you.”

Before she could ask what he meant, his eyes darkened. His wolf surged forward, and he bit her.

Not gently. Not ritually. Not in front of the Elders or with her consent.

Fangs pierced skin.

The world tilted.

The drums stopped.

And silence screamed.

---

Cassian

He’d marked the wrong girl.

Cassian staggered back, blood on his lips, horror tightening around his chest like a noose. Around them, the pack froze in stunned silence.

Elder Verin was the first to speak. “Alpha… What have you done?”

Cassian didn’t have an answer. One moment, he’d caught her scent, and everything in him had locked into place. Wolf instincts overrode thought, reason, tradition.

His mate. His true mate. The bond was undeniable.

Except… it wasn’t supposed to be her.

Not Thalia Ryker, the orphaned healer with no rank, no standing, no place beside an Alpha.

“I didn’t mean to,” he rasped. “It—it wasn’t planned.”

Elder Mora stepped forward, gentler but firm. “There is no undoing a mate mark, Cassian. You know that.”

Thalia clutched her arm, blood soaking through her sleeve, eyes wide with betrayal. “Why me?”

He reached for her, but she flinched. And that broke something in him.

“I didn’t want this,” she whispered.

Neither did he.

But his wolf had chosen. And now everything was unraveling.

---

Thalia

She ran.

Fled past bonfires and dancers and shocked faces. Past Nova’s outstretched hand, past the Elders calling for her to stop. Into the dark, into the trees.

The forest swallowed her.

Her lungs burned, tears hot and blinding. The bite throbbed at her neck and shoulder, pulsing with unfamiliar energy, like a thread tying her to him, tugging with every heartbeat.

She clawed at it, at her skin, at the invisible bond.

Cassian Blackthorn had marked her.

By mistake. In public. Without consent.

She didn’t want to be anyone’s Luna. Not like this.

The woods grew colder as she pushed deeper into them, branches whipping her face, roots trying to trip her. She didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Not until the festival and the pack and the mark were far behind.

She collapsed against an ancient tree, shaking.

And there, in the silence, the truth came like a cruel whisper: no one would believe this was an accident.

Not the Elders. Not the pack. Not Elira who was the Alpha’s intended Luna.

No one.

They’d say she planned it. Tricked him. Used magic or heat or scent.

Because girls like Thalia weren’t chosen by Alphas. They weren’t destined for anything but the background.

Her hands trembled as the mark on her shoulder glowed faintly in the moonlight.

“What have you done to me?” she whispered. To him. To herself. To the moon.

---

Cassian

The Elders demanded a closed council at dawn.

He didn’t sleep. Couldn’t.

Nova came by his chambers once, face pale. “You need to fix this. Now.”

But how?

He’d marked Thalia, and the bond was real. Faint, unstable, but unmistakable.

He felt her fear. Her pain. Her distance like a blade under his skin.

He wanted to say sorry. Wanted to explain.

But what words could fix this?

By morning, the damage was done.

Elira, his political match, chosen by the Council was already spinning the story.

“She seduced you,” she said coldly. “You’ve shamed your title. And her.”

“She did nothing wrong,” Cassian snapped.

“She exists,” Elira hissed. “And now the entire pack will suffer for it.”

---

Thalia

They came for her before sunrise.

Four guards. Silent. Grim.

She didn’t fight as they escorted her to the Council Hall. She barely felt her feet on the ground. Her body was lead and ash and betrayal.

The chamber was full. Elders, warriors, Crescent delegates. Cassian.

He didn’t look at her.

Elder Verin rose. “Thalia Ryker, you stand accused of unlawful bonding, intentional seduction, and destabilization of the Alpha line.”

She flinched. “What? That’s not...”

“Silence.”

Cassian finally stepped forward. His jaw was clenched, voice tight. “It was my mistake.”

Elder Verin scoffed. “Then rectify it. Reject her. Now.”

The room held its breath.

Cassian looked at her.

And said nothing.

The silence screamed louder than any rejection.

---

Thalia

They didn’t imprison her.

They exiled her.

Banished by sunrise. No goodbye. No voice of defense.

Nova wept when she hugged her.

Cassian didn’t come.

She walked out of Moonridge with nothing but a cloak, a satchel of dried herbs, and the ghost of a bond still thrumming faintly beneath her skin.

The forest awaited.

And somewhere in the distance, something else stirred, watching. Waiting.