Chapter 1 Any Day Now

• [XENA]
• When I glance up from the book on my lap, I notice Kasumi, my omega handmaid, is still refolding the same cloak over and over. She’s been at it for long enough that even my patience frays. I sigh, shut the book, and rise to my feet.
• “What’s going on?” I ask her.
• Kasumi nearly drops the cloak. “L-Luna?” she stutters, eyes wide, her face draining of color.
• “Something’s on your mind. Go on, speak,” I tell her gently as I walk toward her.
• Kasumi has always been like this—she needs a little push to voice anything troubling her. I don’t mind it. I prefer people who keep their thoughts to themselves unless asked. There are already enough wolves in the keep who would openly taunt me if they thought they could get away with it. They still do, but quietly… only because they fear Alpha Cassian.
• Wolfless. Defiled. Cursed.
• I’ve been called all of that and worse. Despite being the Luna, I’m afforded no more respect than an omega. I have no wolf, and most of them believe I was defiled by the rogues who attacked me that unfortunate night—the night everything in my life broke, including my lunar energy.
• And maybe I am cursed.
• Why else does everything that can go wrong in my life always go wrong? Why else does my own family hate me? Why else do they treat me like the night I lost my wolf was somehow my fault?
• I exhale, patience slipping away. I snatch the cloak from Kasumi’s hands. “I command you to tell me,” I say. My voice carries no supernatural authority—without my wolf, I have none—but I try anyway.
• Kasumi’s hesitation crumbles beneath my glare. “I… I saw something,” she whispers.
• “What did you see?” I prompt, placing the folded cloak neatly into the open chest before turning back to her.
• Kasumi chews her lower lip. “The healer. Astrid.”
• I raise a brow. “And?”
• Kasumi exhales, glancing toward the window, as if afraid even the trees might hear her. “She was with the Alpha. In the training yard.”
• “He’s always there,” I say.
• “I know, but—” She swallows, lowering her voice. “She was too close. I mean… touching close. She brushed his arm, and he didn’t pull away. I saw him smile at her, Luna. You know he barely smiles at anyone.”
• “Kasumi,” I say softly, touching her arm, “you don’t need to worry. Cassian isn’t… like that.”
• “You think I’d lie about something like this?” she asks, brows pinched in hurt.
• “I think,” I reply evenly, “you saw what you wanted to see.”
• Her lips part, but she chooses not to argue.
• “Five years,” I murmur, mostly to myself. “We’ve been married for five years, Kasumi. He stood by me when everyone else turned their backs—even my family. He chose me as his Luna despite knowing I was wolfless. He went against his own council.”
• Kasumi doesn’t respond. She’s heard this speech many times—the one I cling to whenever I feel the world feels shaky.
• “It was Cassian who carried me home from that… field,” I whisper, my throat tightening as the memory flashes before my eyes. Blood. Cold earth. My body broken. My wolf gone. I shut my eyes and swallow hard. “I was broken in body and mind, but he saved me. He faced every Elder who said I wasn’t fit to stand beside him. He married me when the whole pack whispered I was damaged.”
• My voice trembles once, but I steady it. “He wouldn’t betray me.”
• Kasumi lowers her head. “Yes, Luna.”
• “Don’t mention this to anyone,” I add. “They don’t need another reason to mock me.”
• She nods, but my heart doesn’t settle. I can see it—Cassian smiling at another woman. Cassian finding comfort in someone else’s arms. Cassian choosing someone else over me. The image alone burns deep.
• Barren.
• Another word whispered behind my back.
• “Five years and she still hasn’t given the Alpha a child!”
• I’ve heard it so many times—from pack women, from Cassian’s mother, even from his sister.
• But they don’t know the truth: we haven’t consummated our marriage. I’m still a virgin. Cassian undresses me sometimes, kisses me, touches me, but he always stops. He waits. He’s been waiting for my lunar energy to stabilize so I can safely bear his children.
• Sometimes I wonder if he believes I’m tainted—if he shares the disgust others feel. I asked him once.
• “I just want you to be alright,” he told me, cupping my cheek as I cried in his lap. Rain tapped against the stained-glass windows behind us. “I can’t bear the thought of hurting you, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.”
• I told him I loved him. He said it back with such conviction that I believed him. Truly believed him.
• Cassian has waited so long. I don’t want to make him wait anymore.
• Any day now, the chief healer will tell me my lunar energy is stable enough. Any day now, everything will be okay.
• As if summoned by the thought, a knock echoes at the door.
• I look up—and freeze.
• Speak of the moonless.
• Astrid stands there with a scroll in her hand. Something about her features always unsettles me—sometimes she looks like the spitting image of Davina, my step-sister and Cassian’s former mate. They have the same rounded nose, the same brown doe eyes, and wavy brown hair. And the distinct mole above their lips. Ever her mannerisms sometimes resemble Davina’s.
• She meets Kasumi’s eyes; Kasumi shrinks immediately. Astrid ignores her. “Luna Xena, I have a scroll from the chief healer Morrin.”
• It takes everything in me not to run to her.
• I cross the room in three quick strides and snatch the scroll from her hands. “Thank you,” I blurt, breathless.
• Astrid’s lips part, but she stays silent, lowering her gaze.
• Suddenly, I smell it.
• Cassian.
• His scent clings to Astrid like a perfume.
• Only prolonged skin-to-skin contact leaves a scent that strong…
• My fingers freeze on the half-unfurled scroll. My bottom lip trembles. Astrid stands there, serene and beautiful, the candlelight catching the angles of her face. She’s wearing plain grey and black robes, as is required for all healers in the keep. But there’s a queenly grace in her spine, and on her neck… is an unmistakable bruise from a kiss. The sight cracks something in my chest.
• Did Cassian run out of patience?
• “Leave. Now!” I snap. I don’t mean to sound so harsh, but the words strike like a whip. Astrid flinches and nearly stumbles as she retreats.
• I return to my seat by the window, avoiding Kasumi’s gaze. My throat tightens, heart thudding painfully against my ribs. Please, Moon Goddess… let it be good news. Just this once, turn the tide in my favor. I can’t keep Cassian waiting anymore.
• I unfurl the scroll. Written in neat, elegant strokes are Morrin’s words. I scream in delight, startling Kasumi. She drops the folded clothes in her arms and rushes toward me.
• “Luna! Are you alright?”
• “Yes, yes, yes! Yes. Yes. Yes!” I cry, hugging her tightly. “I’ve never been better!”
• Kasumi stiffens in shock, confusion spreading on her face.
• When I finally let her go, I touch my cheeks—they’re wet with tears of joy. “Thank the Goddess,” I whisper. “Finally, she let me be happy.” I rise to my feet. “I should tell the Alpha at once.”
• I almost sprint out the door before stopping abruptly and turning back to Kasumi. I throw my arms around her again. “Prepare a bath—with all the fragrant oils. And the bed… decorate it. With rose petals. You understand, don’t you?”
• Kasumi’s cheeks flare red. “Of course, Luna.”
• “I’ll tell Cassian and come back,” I call over my shoulder—just before I nearly walk into a pillar. I laugh at myself and straighten.
• Kasumi watches me disappear down the corridor.
• I don’t see her expression shift or hear the quiet prayer under her breath, hoping it was nothing she saw. I don’t feel the dread tightening her chest. But I smell the rain gathering through the open archways of the corridor.
• A storm is coming.