The Luna s Broken King

THE SAME NIGHT THE MOON ROSE BLOOD RED, Lindsay Sheffield learned she carried the mark of the cursed. And halfway across town, Kylie Bloomfield was mauled on set. Without hesitation, Brandon Sheffield ran to her side.

The supernatural press erupted with whispers: Brandon and Kylie rekindling their old flame, spotted together under the full moon. Lindsay-Brandon's official mate-was now the intruder in her own bond.

Brandon and Lindsay had been bonded since childhood, a pairing foretold by the pack elders. Everyone in Westport believed they were soulmates-meant to rule side by side. Five years mated, five years woven together by fate's invisible strings... or so Lindsay had believed.

But as her world tilted under the pale moonlight, she realized something she hadn't before: sometimes, even fate can be rewritten. And when a wolf's heart is set, no law, no prophecy, no vow can stop it.

Twenty-four hours had passed since Kylie's attack. The best time for Brandon's pack elders and his PR team to tame the rumors had come and gone. But the stories didn't die-they thrived, like wildfire under a harvest moon, drowning Lindsay's name beneath Kylie's rising star.

If the whispers hadn't quieted by now, it wasn't an accident. Brandon didn't want them to.

Sitting alone in the den, Lindsay clutched the healer's parchment, the words burning into her mind:

"Alpha Mate Sheffield, the mark runs deep. We believe the curse is waking within you. Without intervention, you may lose control of your shifts, or worse-forget who you are. You must call your mate. Tonight, under the blood moon, we must attempt the ritual before it's too late."

She'd called Brandon-hadn't told him everything, only that she needed him at the healer's lodge. He promised he'd come.

But an hour passed. Then two. His phone went dead. His beta finally answered on the third call:

"He's gone to Eastport."

"Why?"

A pause. "It's... it's on the howlstreams, Alpha Mate."

And there it was, the top headline: "Starlet Kylie Bloomfield hospitalized after rogue attack."

Lindsay's hands trembled as she shut off the screen. The winter air outside the lodge windows felt colder than ever. She pulled her cloak tighter, trying to ignore the gnawing hollowness in her chest.

She dialed her brother Daniel's number, but stopped halfway, remembering it was still dawn across the ocean. She hung up.

Once home, she called Brandon again. Then again. Seven, eight times. But he never answered. Usually, she let him be when he vanished for days-but tonight? Tonight she wanted to bother him. Wanted him to snap at her. Wanted to matter enough to break through whatever spell he was under.

But he didn't.

The moon had risen high by the time her mother-in-law, Marilyn, called. "Lizzie, darling, have you heard from Brandon?"

"No."

A long sigh. "You're still his fated mate, love. No one else bears that title. I'll speak to him. I'll make him see sense."

"Thanks, Mom. But... maybe it's not something that can be fixed."

"Nonsense. Blood bonds don't break so easily." Marilyn's tone softened. "Just rest tonight, child. We'll shield you from the council's questions."

After the call, Brandon's number lit up. Lindsay answered, putting him on speaker. His voice came cold, distant, a stranger's. "Why all the calls?"

"Nothing urgent."

Silence. Then a woman's voice behind him: "Alpha Sheffield, Miss Bloomfield's awake. She's asking for you."

"In a minute," he replied, hanging up.

The dial tone echoed in her ears like a death knell.

Kylie had been his first love, back when they'd both shifted for the first time beneath the same moon. Everyone had known they'd been entangled. Everyone except, maybe, Lindsay herself.

When Brandon had proposed at the Moon Festival, turning to her with that wild gleam in his golden eyes, she hadn't wanted to embarrass him. She'd said yes. Told herself it was fate.