Christopher Valen and Aurora Valen were mates chosen by the Moon Goddess herself a union so divine that even the stars seemed to shine brighter on the night of their mating. They were the heart of their pack, adored not just for their power but for the rare kind of love that radiated between them an unshakable bond that even time dared not touch.
Aurora was soft-spoken and luminous, the kind of woman whose presence made people forget their burdens. Petite and graceful, she moved like moonlight on still water. Her skin glowed with warmth, her luscious auburn red hair cascading in gentle waves down her back, often laced with fresh blossoms Zara tucked in as a child. But it was her eyes vibrant green, rich as emeralds, and more alive than the forest itself that made her unforgettable. They held wisdom, mischief, and kindness in equal measure. No one could look into Aurora's gaze and not feel safe.
Christopher, by contrast, was all intensity and command. Towering over most at just over six feet, he was a sculpted force of nature—broad-shouldered, battle-tested, and undeniably handsome. His skin bore the marks of countless battles fought for his people, and his arms carried the strength to defend them all. But the most striking thing about him was his eyes—tawny-gold, warm and wild, like the sun melting into the horizon. Eyes that could both soften a war cry and spark a rebellion.
Half the women in the pack whispered his name in the dark, dreaming of touches they'd never know. Warriors respected him, and elders trusted his every decision. But despite the attention, Christopher had only ever truly seen one woman: his Aurora. His mate, his moon, his stillness in the storm.
When they walked through the park grounds hand in hand, their bond didn't just inspire it commanded. They were more than leaders. They were the love story whispered to pups before bedtime, the myth come alive, the sacred standard every unmated wolf secretly longed for.
Shortly after their sacred mating ceremony, the Moon Goddess blessed them with a son Marcus Valen, born beneath a blood moon with the strength of a warrior and the soul of a leader. From the moment Aurora held him in her arms, she whispered lullabies in ancient tongues, calling on the goddess to protect him. His cry was fierce, his grip strong, and even then, Christopher smiled with pride, saying, "He already holds the weight of a future Alpha."
Marcus was the mirror of his father from the wild gold of his eyes to the proud tilt of his chin. Even as an infant, he carried the air of command, a quiet intensity that made the pack elders murmur in approval. But where Christopher saw a future Alpha, Aurora saw her baby. Her heart beat for that boy in a way she hadn't known was possible her love for him was fierce, endless, and gentle.
She would dance around the nursery barefoot, hair loose, glowing with maternal joy as she held Marcus to her chest, pressing kisses to his brow while the fire crackled beside them. Christopher would sometimes stop in the doorway and just watch them his mate and his son, bathed in firelight and love. His heart would ache, torn between pride and the creeping fear that the world would harden his boy if they didn't prepare him.
As Marcus grew, so did the quiet tension between his parents. Aurora believed in nurturing him with softness, in letting him feel safe and cherished a boy who knew he was loved would grow into a man who led with wisdom, she said.
But Christopher was forged in battle, and his vision of leadership came from discipline, strength, and sacrifice. "You can't shield him from the world forever, love," he would tell her after their son was tucked in, his tone gruff but weary. "An alpha who is too soft will break before his time."
Aurora would meet his gaze with fire in her emerald eyes. "And an Alpha raised without tenderness will never know when to show mercy."
They loved each other fiercely two sides of the same coin but their greatest disagreement was always their son. Yet even in the heat of argument, Christopher would reach for her hand. He would hold her against him, burying his face in her hair as she sighed against his chest. "We'll raise him together," she'd whisper. "Balance, my love. Like you and me."
And in those moments, he would believe her.
They couldn't have any more children for almost a decade a quiet ache that Aurora carried with grace, though her heart longed for another little one to cradle, to kiss, to pour her love into. And then, after ten long years and many whispered prayers beneath the moonlight, the goddess blessed them again. This time with a daughter Zara Valen.
Her birth was gentle, soft like a song breathed into life. She came into the world with a small, determined cry and a fierce grip on her mother's finger, as if announcing that she had arrived to claim every heart.
Christopher was relieved. Not just because his beloved mate had survived the birth, but because now, finally, Aurora had someone she could spoil a child to shower with affection without softening Marcus, who was already being shaped into a future Alpha. "She's yours," he'd murmured, cradling the tiny bundle and pressing a kiss to Aurora's forehead. "Now you have your little moonbeam to dote on. Leave the Alpha training to me."
But Zara wasn't just her mother's joy she became the pack's treasure. With her wide golden-brown eyes and thick dark lashes, she was the perfect blend of warmth and mischief. Her hair, like Marcus's, came in thick and dark, with waves that refused to be tamed. Her laugh was infectious, and even the sternest warriors melted under her gaze.
She looked so much like her father and brother that people often joked she was Christopher's miniaturized shadow the same proud cheekbones, the same fierce stare, the same effortless grace. Aurora, in turn, would laugh as she tucked a curl behind Zara's ear and tease, "I carried you both for months, brought you into this world, and not even a speck of me in your faces? What a cruel twist of fate."
To that, Christopher would smirk and wrap an arm around her waist, whispering, "They may look like me, but they love like you."
Zara was spoiled, yes but not in the way people feared. She was cherished and adored by her parents, babied by Marcus, and beloved by the entire pack. There wasn't a festival where she wasn't the center of attention or a celebration where someone didn't bring her a treat, a braid, or a carved wooden toy. She was light, and the entire pack revolved around her like stars around the moon.
And yet, for all the attention she received, it was Marcus who she clung to most. Her big brother, her protector, her world. Wherever he went, Zara followed chattering, laughing, and copying his every move. And Marcus, who could be cold and serious even as a boy, melted only for her. To him, Zara was not just a little sister. She was the one person he would protect no matter the cost.
From a young age, Marcus Valen turned heads wherever he went. It wasn't just because he was the Alpha's son it was the way he moved, the quiet confidence in his stance, and the piercing gold of his eyes that mirrored his father's but somehow held a colder edge. He had the kind of beauty that made people stare, that made older wolves nod in approval, and that made younger girls whisper behind his back. Tall, broad-shouldered, and sharp-featured, he grew into his looks fast, and the pack noticed.
Especially the girls.
By the time he was sixteen, there were already rumors "Marcus kissed so-and-so behind the training grounds," or "He smiled at me at the riverbank; he must be interested." But the truth was, Marcus rarely gave them more than a passing glance. Not because he wasn't tempted, but because he didn't have the space to be soft. His father had trained him to be a leader, not a lover. And any sign of distraction was met with sharp discipline.
Zara, for her part, found herself surrounded by girls who claimed to adore her but as she grew older, she began to notice the pattern. They didn't ask about her dreams or her thoughts they asked what her brother liked, what he said, and what he did when no one else was around. She smiled through it, ever the sweet younger sister, but deep down she resented it. It wasn't friendship they wanted. It was proximity to power, her brother's attention.
Marcus knew it too. He became guarded, distant. Polite, but never vulnerable. He didn't trust easily, especially not when it came to women. His mother worried for him, often urging Christopher to let the boy breathe, but the Alpha was firm.
"He is the heir to this pack. He does not have the luxury of recklessness."
So Marcus trained. Fought. Studied. Led. But he did not love.
Until his eighteenth birthday.
On that day, Christopher took his son deep into the woods for a run, as was tradition a symbolic rite of passage into manhood. The moon hung low above them, silver and watching, as they ran side by side through the trees. When they finally stopped by a stream, breath misting in the cold air, Christopher placed a firm hand on Marcus's shoulder and spoke in a tone that was more command than comfort.
"You are a man now," he said. "And I know... you haven't been with a woman yet. That's nothing to be ashamed of. But you're the only son of this pack, and it's time you start thinking about a bride. A Luna."