7

Modric I stood in the hallway outside the Alpha suite, arms crossed tight over my chest as two servants carried the last of Mary Ann’s things toward the Luna Wing. The decision had been made before dawn, but saying it out loud to the staff still left a bitter taste in my mouth. “Make sure she has everything she needs,” I told them, voice flat. “The Luna Wing is hers now. Full access.” They nodded quickly, eyes carefully averted, but I wasn’t stupid. News like this spread faster than wildfire in a pack house. By midday, every servant, warrior, and elder would know the new Luna wasn’t sharing the Alpha’s bed. Hell, she wasn’t even sharing the same wing. I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to shake the image of her sleeping form from last night—the soft rise and fall of her chest under that thin nightgown, the generous curves barely hidden, the untouched side of the bed that had felt strangely wrong. The mate bond spark from our kiss still itched under my skin like an unhealed wound. I’d spent the night at the training grounds, pushing my body until exhaustion drowned out everything else. It hadn’t worked. Kylian found me in my study an hour later, leaning against the doorframe with that knowing look he’d perfected over years of friendship. “You really moved her out already?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “The servants are whispering, Modric. Some of them pity her. Others…” He shrugged, but his jaw tightened. “Let’s just say not everyone is kind.” I poured myself a glass of whiskey even though it was barely past noon and took a long sip. “It’s practical. The Luna Wing has better light, more space for her work with the pack nurseries and alliances. She doesn’t need to be underfoot here.” Kylian stepped inside and closed the door. “Underfoot? She’s your wife, man. Your mate. The whole pack watched that ceremony. They felt the bond snap into place when you kissed her. And now you’re treating her like a guest?” I slammed the glass down harder than I meant to. “She’s the price of peace. Nothing more. I have duties—border patrols, training, keeping Ironclaw strong. I don’t have time to play house with the girl I used to—” “Used to mock?” Kylian finished quietly. “Yeah. I remember. We both do. But she’s not that scared academy girl anymore, and you’re not that cruel boy. Or at least you shouldn’t be.” His words hit too close. I turned away, staring out the window at the training fields where warriors sparred under the afternoon sun. Mary Ann’s face kept flashing in my mind—those wide eyes looking up at me during the vows, the way her body had trembled slightly when my lips brushed hers. The way her wolf had reached for mine with pure, unguarded joy. It terrified me how much I wanted to reach back. “The servants are already talking,” Kylian continued, pressing his point. “Some of the older omegas pity her. They see a young Luna walking around with quiet dignity while her mate avoids her like the plague. A few of the younger ones… they mock. Whisper about how you’re still hung up on Velvera, how the ‘Fat Luna’ finally got what she deserved. It’s ugly, Modric. And it’s spreading.” I clenched my fists. The thought of anyone mocking Mary Ann twisted something ugly in my gut. I’d been the one to start those nicknames years ago. Hearing them thrown at her now, when she was mine—Luna of my pack—made my wolf snarl protectively. But I shoved it down. “Let them talk,” I growled. “The alliance is secured. That’s what matters. She’ll fulfill her role, I’ll fulfill mine. Separate lives, separate wings. It’s cleaner this way.” Kylian shook his head, disappointment clear on his face. “The pack is watching, Alpha. They need to see unity. Strength. Not a house divided on day two of the marriage. If this fractures the trust between Moonstone and Ironclaw…” “I said I’ll handle it,” I snapped, cutting him off. “Focus on the eastern borders. Reports of rogue activity are increasing. That’s where your concern should be.” He lingered for a moment, like he wanted to say more, but finally nodded and left. The door clicked shut, leaving me alone with the heavy silence and the faint scent of cedar and wildflowers that still clung to the air from when she’d been in this room. I sank into my chair, staring at the untouched contract papers on my desk. Moving her to the Luna Wing was the right call. Distance would kill whatever that spark had awakened. No more accidental brushes, no more shared nights where the mate bond might push us into something I couldn’t control. Velvera’s tear-streaked face from the other night still haunted me too. I’d lost her by doing my duty. The least I could do was keep Mary Ann at arm’s length so I didn’t destroy her too. But even as I told myself that, memories crept in. The way she’d stood alone at the reception, chin high despite the whispers. The soft curve of her cheek when I’d kissed the corner of her mouth. How her body had felt warm and real against mine for those few seconds. My wolf paced restlessly, pushing images forward—her full hips swaying as she walked, the strength in her eyes when she’d faced Kylian on the dance floor. She wasn’t the girl I’d mocked anymore. She was something far more dangerous. I stood up abruptly and headed for the training fields. Sparring until my muscles screamed was the only cure I knew. As I passed the corridor leading to the Luna Wing, I caught a glimpse of servants carrying fresh linens and flowers toward her new rooms. One of the younger girls whispered something to her friend, and they both giggled behind their hands. My steps faltered for half a second. Pity and mockery. Exactly what Kylian had warned about. I should have shut it down right there, but instead I kept walking, jaw locked tight. It’s better this way, I told myself again. Separate. Safe. The lie tasted weaker every time I repeated it. By evening, the divide in the house was clear. I ate dinner alone in my study while reports came in about how gracefully the new Luna had spent her day meeting pack elders and visiting the nursery. No complaints. No demands. Just quiet competence that made the whispers shift from mockery to reluctant respect in some corners. Still, the gap between us felt wider than the wings of the pack house. And for the first time since the wedding, a strange discomfort settled in my chest—one that had nothing to do with duty and everything to do with the empty side of my bed last night. I pushed it aside, focusing on maps and patrol schedules. The pack needed a strong Alpha, not a lovesick fool chasing a mate bond he never asked for. But as night fell and the house grew quiet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this division I’d created might cost me more than I was willing to admit.