BORN TO BE LUNA
The girl who never wanted to shift
Luna Morgan was born under a blood moon—a rare and powerful celestial event that made the entire Silvercrest Pack fall into silence the moment her first cry pierced the air. Some said it was a blessing. Others, a warning. But everyone agreed: Luna was special.
The only daughter of Alpha Damon and Luna Seraphine, Luna carried the weight of generations the moment she entered the world. Her name was not a coincidence. She was not just a Luna; she was the Luna, born to one day take the mantle of leadership beside the future Alpha.
From infancy, she was treated like royalty. Nurses rotated around the clock. Tutors began lessons before she could fully write her name. Her days were structured: pack etiquette in the morning, Luna history by afternoon, meditation by dusk. While other pups played tag and shifted under the stars for the first time, Luna memorized ancient rites, healing chants, and the complex language of treaties between packs.
She didn't protest. At first.
Because she loved her parents. She loved her people. And above all, Luna wanted to do what was right.
"You're special, baby," her mother would whisper during bedtime rituals, brushing silver strands of hair behind Luna's ear. "The Moon Goddess gave you a purpose."
That word haunted her.
Purpose.
Her first shift at thirteen was supposed to be a celebration. Instead, it shattered her.
The entire pack gathered under a waxing moon, drums echoing through the clearing. She wore a white dress—not unlike the one her mother had worn at her own first shift. Elders sang. Her father placed a protective charm around her neck. Then it began.
Pain ripped through her limbs. Her bones cracked, twisted, and reformed. Her skin tore, fur exploding from beneath. Her eyes changed. Her senses exploded.
And then came the worst part.
The wolf.
It surged into her consciousness like a tidal wave. Wild. Raw. Furious. It wanted to run. To hunt. To feel.
And Luna wanted it gone.
The ceremony ended in cheers, but Luna collapsed behind the pack house, shaking, afraid of her own skin. She was strong, they said. Her wolf was stunning. She was powerful, a true-born Luna.
She felt like a stranger inside herself.
After that night, she refused to shift again unless commanded by her parents. She could bear her empathic powers. Her healing touch. Even the way she could read emotions with frightening accuracy. But shifting? She hated it. Hated the fur. Hated the claws. Hated that she didn't feel human when she did.
She kept that secret buried.
Her mask grew stronger. Her smile more practiced. Her reputation? Untouchable.
But her sanctuary became the forest.
She would slip away during lessons and find her favorite spot under the oldest pine tree near the pack border. No guards, no judgment. Just silence.
That's where she first met him.
Asher Black.
He was two years older. Already shifted. Already a warrior-in-training. The son of the Beta, but more feared than his title suggested. While other boys teased and postured, Asher was quiet. Watchful. Dangerous.
Luna had expected him to bark at her to leave. Instead, he said nothing.
She ignored him for days. He kept showing up.
Eventually, he brought a book—an old, tattered fantasy novel he never admitted to liking.
They began to speak. About nothing. About everything. About what it meant to carry expectations they never asked for.
They weren't friends at first. They were escape artists.
As months passed, they grew close. Then closer.
By the time Luna was seventeen, her feelings had transformed. Asher wasn't just someone she confided in. He was the only one who saw her.
When she dreamed of her mate, she hoped—no, prayed it would be him.
And so did everyone else.
The Alpha's daughter and the Beta's son? It was fate. The elders said it. The pack whispered it. Even Luna's parents hinted at it during long dinners and strategy sessions.
"You're almost of age," her mother reminded her before the Choosing Moon Ceremony. "You feel the bond, don't you?"
She had nodded.
But part of her was terrified.
What if he didn't feel it too?
Still, on the night of her eighteenth birthday, she stood in the center of the sacred circle, heart pounding in her chest. Her white ceremonial dress flowed like water. Her wolf hummed beneath her skin, agitated but expectant.
The full moon burned bright overhead.
She scanned the crowd.
Asher was there.
Tall. Stoic. Dressed in black.
His eyes met hers.
Her heart knew.
Alpha Gideon, his father, raised his hand. "Let the Moon Goddess show us her will. Let mates step forward."
Around her, young wolves obeyed their instincts. Pairs emerged from the crowd—mates drawn to each other by invisible threads.
She waited.
And waited.
Asher stepped forward.
But not toward her.
Her stomach dropped. No. No, he must be confused. The bond pulsed between them like a drum.
He walked past her. Straight to a girl she didn't know. And spoke the words that would haunt her forever:
"I, Asher Black, reject you, Luna Morgan, as my mate."
The bond snapped.
The crowd gasped. Her parents surged forward. Someone screamed. She collapsed, clutching her chest. The pain was real.
Her wolf howled in betrayal.
But Asher never looked back.
The world tilted.
Everything she was raised to be—shattered.
And that was the night Luna Morgan ceased to exist.
The good girl. The obedient daughter. The perfect Luna.
Dead.
In her place, a broken girl stood in the wreckage.
And began to build a new life from the ashes.