the moon's forbidden mate

Lily Sterling clutched her handbag tightly, As the car rolled to a stop in front of the massive iron gates of the Blood moon pack.

Pack members were already gathered along the entrance.

Men and women, dressed sharply, like sentinels, their gazes a curious blend of respect and suspicion.

Lily felt a twist in her stomach

The driver opened her door, and Lily stepped out,

Her new husband, Alistair Sterling, descended the steps to greet her.

Alistair, a man of striking presence even in his mid-fifties, moved with the measured authority of a ruler.

His tailored suit was as immaculate as his posture, but as he took Lily’s hand, his grip was firm yet distant.

“Lily,” he said, his voice deep and formal, with the faintest edge of warmth.

“Welcome to your new home.”

“Thank you, My lord.”

Lily smiled politely, though the words felt hollow

She allowed him to guide her up the steps, his touch light but impersonal.

The weight of their relationship or lack thereof settled heavily.

She had married him for tradition, for the merging of two influential families, not for love.

Their union had been arranged as much for practicality as it had for prestige.

Inside, the mansion was even more imposing.

The marble floors gleamed, and portraits of generations lined the walls, their eyes seeming to follow her every move.

“You’ll adjust quickly,”

Alistair said as he gestured for a servant to take her coat.

“The pack is loyal, and they will respect you as their Luna.”

Luna. The title sounded foreign to Lily’s ears.

She nodded, unsure of how to respond. Before she could dwell on it, a figure stepped into the room, his presence drawing every ounce of her attention.

Callum Sterling.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and impossibly handsome in a rugged way that contrasted sharply with Alistair’s stuffy, calm demeanor.

His dark, hair framed his striking blue eyes.

He was dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans, The man exuded a raw energy, like a storm barely contained.

“Callum…Son,”

Alistair said, his tone lighter than it had been with her

“Come and meet Lily…your new step mom.”

Cullum’s eyes shifted to her.

For a moment, Lily felt as though she couldn’t breathe. something about his eyes made her skin tingle.

“Luna,”

Callum greeted, his voice deep and smooth,

He inclined his head slightly, his movements deliberate.

“Callum” Lily replied, forcing herself to maintain composure.

As it was with tradition, she extended her hand, allowing his larger, rougher one enveloped hers.

“Callum my only son from my late wife oversees the pack’s security,”

Alistair explained, oblivious to the charged atmosphere.

“You’ll find him…efficient.”

Lily felt a blush creeping up her neck and immediately looked away, chastising herself for even noticing his features.

“I’m sure we’ll get along just fine my Lord,”

Lily said, trying to sound decent, though her voice wavered slightly.

Callum didn’t reply, but the corner of his mouth twitched as though he found her talk amusing.

Alistair cleared his throat

. “Callum, show Lily to her quarters. I’ll join her shortly.”

Later at dinner, Lily sat at Alistair’s right, a position that symbolized her new role as Luna, though it felt more like an obligation than an honor.

Across from her sat Callum, his broad frame relaxed but his sharp eyes ever watchful.

The dinner began in silence,

Lily couldn’t help but observe the interactions. There was an unspoken hierarchy at play, with Alistair at the head of it all.

The others deferred to him without question,

Callum, however, seemed to operate outside this dynamic, his confidence and authority unshakable even in his father’s presence.

The other pack members, most of whom Lily hadn’t been properly introduced to yet, treated Callum with a blend of respect and wariness.

His voice, when he did speak, was calm and measured, but there was an edge to it that made even the most stoic among them straighten in their seats.

As the meal wound down, Alistair set his knife and fork down with deliberate precision, signaling the end of dinner.

The others followed suit, their movements instinctively mirroring his own.

Servants began clearing the table, their footsteps muffled on the thick Persian rug.

Alistair turned to Lily, his expression calm but his tone firm

. “Lily, there is something you must understand about this place,” he said, his voice grave.

“The forest surrounding the estate is dangerous, especially during the full moon. Stay out of it.”

The room fell into a sudden,

silence. Deep silence.

All eyes turned to Lily, and she felt instantly anxious.

Callum’s stare was the hardest to ignore, his piercing blue eyes locked onto her as if gauging her reaction.

Lily blinked, caught off guard.

“Why? What happens during the full moon?”

Alistair’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing more.

“Just heed my warning,” he said finally, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Moments later, as she made her way to her quarters, Lily replayed the scene in her mind. Alistair’s warning had been clear, but the lack of explanation left her bereft.

What was so dangerous about the forest? Why had everyone reacted so strangely?

She couldn’t help but feel that something was being kept from her.

Were they all hiding something? And why had Callum’s stare lingered so long when Alistair spoke?

“Maybe I’m imagining things,” she whispered to herself as she slipped into her room.

That night was supposed to be her first private night with the King, her husband now, and she knew what tradition dictated

. She had been prepared, instructed on what was expected of her.

Yet, she felt like a nervous little girl pretending to be a woman,

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open made her head snap up.

Alistair emerged,

He had abandoned his formal attire for a simple, loose shirt left open to reveal his broad chest, covered in dark hair.

His sleeves were rolled up, exposing muscular forearms.

He didn’t speak at first. Instead, he stood there, his eyes fixed on her.

Lily felt her breath hitch,

His lips parted slightly, as if he might say something, but then he shifted awkwardly, his shoulders bowing just the tiniest bit.

“Are you comfortable?”

He asked stepping closer.

Lily nodded quickly, her hands tightening in her lap.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied, her voice quieter than she intended.

Alistair frowned at her formality.

“There’s no need for that,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

“You’re my wife now. Alistair is fine.”

She swallowed hard and managed a faint smile.

“Alistair.” The name felt foreign on her tongue, a reminder of the vast gulf between them despite their vows.

He nodded in acknowledgment, but instead of bridging the distance between them, he stood silent for a moment longer, as though weighing his next move

. “If you need anything….anything at all you should tell me,”

he added, his tone oddly formal despite the intimacy of their setting.

“I will,” she said, though her words lacked conviction.

Alistair lingered for another heartbeat,

But then, without further comment, he moved to his side of the bed.

To Lily’s surprise, he slid under the covers, turned away from her, and within minutes, his steady breathing gave way to a soft, unmistakable snore.

Lily sat frozen, staring at his broad back, his form rising and falling with each heavy breath. Confusion squashed her face

This was the man she had been told to expect would claim her tonight.

.

The King, her husband, a figure of power and dominance. And yet, here he was, snoring softly beside her like an exhausted laborer after a long day’s work.

“What was going on?”