Cursed by the Moon

Chapter I

The world has changed.

Humans are no longer the superior species. We are nothing more than ants beneath their boots.

When the wolves first revealed themselves, they promised peace. They said we could live alongside them. They lied.

Now humans serve, and wolves rule.

They say if you’re lucky—really lucky—you might be chosen as a wolf’s mate. But to me, that sounds like a fate worse than death. Being claimed means losing what little control we have left. The moment a wolf senses you, it’s over. He buries his face into your neck, inhales your scent like it belongs to him, then sinks his fangs into your skin. The bite leaves a permanent scar—their mark—a warning to others that you’re taken.

And just like that, you’re gone.

They call it love. Protection. Destiny.

I call it bullshit.

But this is the world I live in.

“Luna, we need to go. The Alpha wants to see us—now.”

Maria‑Rae’s voice trembles, panic barely contained. I sigh.

“Relax,” I say. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

She spins on me. “Oh, really? Because you didn’t just call Lady Skylar a slut while the guards were walking past?”

I flinch. Slightly.

“Well,” I mutter, “it is the truth.”

“But Lu, we can’t say things like that. She’s our Lady.”

“Only because the mutts say so,” I snap, jaw tightening.

We leave the servants’ quarters—if you can call a damp basement with stone walls and no windows quarters—and make our way up to the Alpha’s floor. Each step feels heavier than the last.

Beta Alex waits outside the office, his usual scowl fixed in place. He’s tall, broad, and annoyingly good‑looking—like all wolves. Sandy hair, brown eyes, and not a single sign that he’s over forty. Wolves age beautifully. That’s part of the trap.

“Beta Alex,” Maria says softly, bowing her head. “The Alpha requested to see us, sir.”

I don’t bow. I meet his dull brown gaze head‑on.

“Yes,” he says. “You may enter. And Avaluna—behave yourself. You don’t want another night in the hole, do you?”

The hole is exactly what it sounds like. A lightless cell underground. Cold stone. Dripping water. Silence that crawls under your skin. I’ve spent more time there than anyone else—turns out I’m terrible at keeping my mouth shut.

Alex opens the door.

“Alpha, Lady Skylar’s ladies are here.”

As if they couldn’t smell us already.

Alpha Lucas stands behind his desk, papers scattered everywhere. His ice‑blue eyes flick to us, sharp and cold. His light brown hair is cut short, military neat.

“Maria‑Rae. Avaluna,” he says. “As you’re aware, one of the King’s officials visited last week.”

My stomach tightens.

“The King is searching for his Queen. All eligible Alpha daughters are required to attend the castle for one month while he decides.” Pride bleeds into his voice. “My Skylar is among them.”

Of course she is.

“As her… ladies‑in‑waiting,” he continues, correcting himself smoothly, “you will accompany her.”

The door slams open.

Skylar strides in like she owns the place—which, unfortunately, she does. Bleached blonde curls, skin caked in makeup, lips twisted in a smug smile. Her dress barely qualifies as clothing.

“Did you tell them?” she screeches.

“I was just explaining, sweetheart,” Alpha Lucas says, his voice instantly softer.

“I’m going to be Luna Queen,” Skylar snaps, eyes locking onto me. “And you two will not ruin this. Everything needs to be perfect.”

I bite my tongue so hard I taste blood.

“You leave in one hour,” the Alpha says. “Pack.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Maria murmurs, bowing deeply.

I keep my eyes on Skylar.

A growl rumbles beside me, followed by a sharp nudge to my ribs. I break eye contact.

“Yes, sir,” I say, bowing just enough to keep myself alive.

Alpha Lucas steps closer, his presence suffocating.

“This is your last chance, Avaluna,” he snarls quietly. “You mess up even once, and my wolves will enjoy tearing you apart when you return.”

Fear coils in my chest—but I refuse to show it.

I nod.

Because in this world, survival means knowing when to lower your head.

Even when every instinct screams to fight.

It doesn’t take us long to pack. It’s not like we own much anyway.

Two huge black SUVs wait outside the packhouse—one for Skylar, and one for us. Apparently the Alpha’s precious princess is far too important to share space with humans. She’s already seated and driving off by the time we reach our vehicle.

I recognize the driver instantly. One of the few wolves in this pack who doesn’t treat us like dirt.

“Theo,” I greet softly, smiling.

“Hey, Lu. Hi, Maria,” he says warmly. “How are you both?”

“I’m good,” Maria replies shyly.

Theo looks at me expectantly. I just shrug, and he chuckles under his breath.

“Come on,” he says, opening the driver’s door. “We’re already late. The sooner this month is over, the sooner we can come back.”

“You get the front,” Maria whispers as we climb in.

I slide into the passenger seat. “Don’t you want to go to the capital?” I ask Theo as he pulls away.

He pauses. “The capital is… different from here.”

Maria shifts in the back seat. “Is the King evil?” she asks quietly, fear threading her voice.

Theo exhales slowly. “The King is fierce—but fair. He’s not as evil as the papers say. He just doesn’t tolerate disappointment or disobedience.” His grip tightens on the wheel. “Honestly, I’d probably be the same in his place.”

My stomach knots.

“You won’t even meet him,” Theo adds. “But Luna—don’t piss anyone off. The King’s pack is trained to kill without hesitation.”

“The Alpha already warned me,” I mutter.

Theo sighs. “Why don’t you both sleep while you can? Lady Skylar will work you to the bone, and it’s a five-hour drive.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Maria murmurs, already curling in on herself.

“Can I turn the radio on?” I ask.

Theo smiles and switches it on low. Maria’s eyes flutter shut almost instantly.

“Why is this even happening?” I ask quietly after a moment.

“What do you mean?” Theo replies.

“I thought all wolves had mates. So why is the King choosing a woman to marry?”

“There are rumors,” he says carefully, “that the King doesn’t—and won’t ever—have a mate. For the past five hundred years, kings have chosen their queens.”

That makes my skin prickle.

“Have you found your mate yet?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

Theo doesn’t answer right away. His eyes darken, and his knuckles whiten around the steering wheel.

“You’d know if I had,” he says flatly.

I let it go.

Sleep eventually claims me.

—

A gentle hand shakes my shoulder.

“Luna, wake up. We’re just outside the city.”

I open my eyes—and freeze.

The capital is massive. A towering stone wall surrounds it, ancient and unyielding, as Theo pulls up to a checkpoint. I barely register his words to the guard, too busy staring. We’re waved through, and the car disappears into a tunnel beneath the wall.

When we emerge, my breath catches.

The city is breathtaking.

Towering brick buildings rise on either side, old-world architecture blended seamlessly with modern life. Streetlights cast an ethereal glow over cobbled roads. Shops, bakeries, restaurants—wolves walk freely among them, laughing, talking, living.

They almost look… human.

It’s beautiful.

And eerie.

Theo drives on until the castle comes into view—and my jaw drops.

It’s enormous. Proud. Watching over the city like a silent god. It looks straight out of a fairytale—strong stone towers, glowing windows, power etched into every line.

I hear Maria gasp beside me.

The castle makes me feel small. Insignificant.

Theo parks near the back and mutters something about the servant quarters.

I roll my eyes.

Of course.

Theo leads us through a series of stone corridors tucked far from the grand halls we glimpsed earlier. This part of the castle is quieter, less polished, but still far nicer than anything we’re used to.

“Food hall’s this way,” he says over his shoulder. “Servants eat first tonight. You’re lucky.”

Lucky. That word feels strange on my skin.

The doors open into a wide hall filled with long wooden tables and warm light. The scent hits me instantly—fresh bread, roasted meat, herbs, something sweet. My stomach betrays me with a loud growl.

Maria freezes beside me.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Luna… look.”

I do.

Servants—humans and a few lower-ranked wolves—are already seated, laughing quietly, plates full. Actual plates. Not scraps. Not bowls of grey slop like back home.

“This is for us?” Maria asks Theo, eyes wide.

“Yes,” he says simply. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

We grab trays, and I have to force myself not to rush. The food looks real. Warm bread. Stew thick with meat and vegetables. Fresh fruit. Even a small dessert.

Maria practically glows as we sit.

“This is amazing,” she breathes. “They’re treating us like… people.”

I glance around, shoulders tight. “For now.”

She frowns. “Can you not be negative for five minutes?”

I take a bite of bread. It’s soft. Still warm.

That only makes me more uneasy.

After we eat—Maria savoring every bite, me watching every exit—Theo returns and escorts us deeper into the castle. We pass staircases, quiet halls, doors marked with symbols I don’t recognize.

Finally, he stops.

“Here,” he says, opening a door.

I step inside—and stop short.

The room is huge.

Not a cell. Not a shared bunk. A room. Two full beds with crisp white sheets. A fireplace. Plush chairs. Thick rugs underfoot. Tall windows draped in soft fabric. There’s even a small sitting area—and a private bathroom.

Maria lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

“Luna,” she whispers. “This looks like a hotel.”

She drops her bag and spins slowly, touching everything like it might vanish. “We have our own bathroom. And beds. Real beds.”

I remain by the door.

This doesn’t make sense.

“Why are they being so nice?” I mutter.

“Because we’re in the King’s castle,” Maria says. “Maybe things are different here.”

“Or maybe this is how they keep us compliant,” I reply.

She pauses, then looks at me. “You don’t trust anything, do you?”

“No,” I say honestly. “Especially not wolves who suddenly decide to be generous.”

Maria sits on one of the beds, smiling softly. “I think… maybe this could be a good thing. Just for a month.”

I look around again—the comfort, the warmth, the quiet.

A month.

Something about that thought twists in my chest.

“This place doesn’t give without taking,” I say quietly. “And whatever it wants… we haven’t paid yet.”

Maria doesn’t answer.

But as she curls into the blankets like she’s afraid to lose them, I keep my boots on and my senses sharp.

Because comfort, in my experience, is always a warning.