The Nameless Luna – Book One: The Girl With Violet Eyes
The Nameless Luna – Book One: Chapter 2

There is a moment of strained silence across the vast courtyard outside the main pack house. Silvery ribbons flutter and balloons bob in the soft breeze, but the decorations for the party seem silly and out of place in the tension that hangs in the air.
Then my uncle’s booming laughter cuts through the quiet like a knife sliding through butter, and a chill runs down my spine at the malicious mirth.
I realize at that moment just how fragile my illusion of safety was.
I duck my head down, sandy blonde hair cascading around my face like a curtain, as I wish that I could make myself small enough to vanish entirely.
“You want to mate with the violet-eyed mutant mongrel? Be my guest, your majesty,” my uncle says, his words dripping with disdain.
There is some movement somewhere toward the center of the courtyard that I can’t make out, and I have the good sense to snap into action, rising to my feet, ready to make a run for it. Of course, I don’t actually have anywhere to run to. I have no plan, no chance of even making it out of the courtyard unseen. I’ve been a prisoner of my own pack my entire life, and frankly, my odds of escaping my sorry fate have never been worse.
But a frightened animal acts on instinct, not logic. I’m aware enough of my place in the world to be terrified. So I tighten my grip on the glass in my hand, fingers curling around the stem of the champagne flute so the jagged edge faces away from me like a makeshift little dagger.
“Oscar,” Viktor says, calling out to his son. I stiffen as my cousin moves through the crowd. “The rogue Alpha has come to claim his bride. Let’s not keep our guest waiting. Get the girl.”
In Viktor’s eyes, handing me over like a prize bride is probably more of an insult than a peace offering. If the stranger had named any other she-wolf in the pack, my uncle would have probably lunged at the other Alpha, putting an abrupt end to any celebration and plunging the two territories into war in a matter of minutes. But Viktor has been looking for an excuse to be rid of me for years, and I know full well that he will not hesitate to throw me at the mercy of the so-called King of Outcasts.
No one will speak for me. No one will defend me or question our Alpha’s choice to hand me over to a rival pack like little more than a lowly broodmare.
The crowd shuffles around, making way for the Alpha’s son as he elbows his way past them and straight for me. My heart pounds in my chest when my cousin spots me, his eyes locking in on mine.
“You heard him, girl,” he says, and my skin crawls the steel in his voice. My cousin’s eyes flicker to the makeshift weapon in my hand, and he chuckles. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”
He’s never seen me defend myself before. Desperate times call for desperate measures. My hand trembles, but I muster up enough self-preservation to feel almost brave, and I hold my ground. “Please, Oscar,” I plead, my soft, high-pitched voice sounding unexpectedly steady. “I don’t want any trouble. Just let me go back to my room. I won’t bother anyone, I swear.”
“Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter what you want. You’ve already caused more trouble than you’re worth. The rogue Alpha has come to take you off our hands,” he says, walking calmly toward me.
My cousin is significantly larger than me, as are most members of the pack. At five foot three, I’m not that much shorter than most females my age, but everything about my build is small. Hunger has made me even thinner than my already petite frame, my skin pale from spending so much time locked away in the cellar underground.
I’m easy prey, and we both know it. I always have been.
“I’m not his mate,” I insist, and I truly believe it. Because really, how can I be? I don’t even have a wolf.
“Hurry up, son,” my uncle calls out from behind the gathered audience. “Let’s get this over and done with so we can get back to the celebration.”
I’m just an inconvenience, something that needs to be disposed of so they can go on enjoying themselves. If my own kin treats me with such scorn and cruelty, what sort of fate might await me at the hands of a rogue Alpha?
I take an unsteady step back, brandishing the broken glass like a knife. My cousin only sneers in amusement.
“Put that down before you hurt yourself, girl,” he says, reaching out to grab my arm and yanking me toward the center of the courtyard, where I still cannot see the stranger and my uncle. “Your new master is waiting.”
“No!” I hiss, thrashing against my cousin as his hands curl around my other wrist in a shockingly tight grip. He growls as he drags me toward the others, baring his teeth. I slash at him blindly with the glass before he grabs my other hand, twisting my wrist at an unnatural angle. I wince from the pain as my fingers sprawl involuntarily under his grasp, and my sad little glass weapon falls to the ground.
Before forcing me to drop the glass, it sliced my cousin just above his eye, leaving a thin slash of red across his brow.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp, staring up at him with horror. The tiny trickle of blood will not go unpunished, and I feel like an utter fool as I realize precisely what I’ve done. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”
I thought things were bad before, but now…
He curses before I can finish mustering up an apology. “You’ll pay for that.”
I have no doubt that I will, and I shut my eyes to brace myself from the blow as he pulls his hand back to hit me in retaliation.
But the blow never comes. Finally, after a few breathless seconds of anticipation, I dare to open my eyes. Oscar’s hand is poised to strike, but someone else has grabbed his forearm, restraining him before he can land the blow.
I tear my gaze away from my cousin to look at the stranger who came to my rescue: my uncle’s rival, the rogue Alpha, exiled King of Outcasts and lone wolves.
My mate.