Chapter 57 To the Luna to the Future
Maureen Laurent
I blinked awake to the soft weight of Gold’s black tail still draped across Vuk’s face like she’d claimed it as her personal blanket overnight. Her fluffy body was sprawled half on his chest, half on mine, paws kneading lazily into the sheets between us—happy little biscuits of possession. Every time one of us shifted even a millimeter, her tail would twitch in warning: mine, both of you, don’t test me.
Vuk’s eyes cracked open first, red-gold irises glowing faintly in the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. He huffed a laugh when he saw her tail over his nose. “Morning, tyrant,” he murmured, voice gravelly and fond. His big hand came up automatically to scratch behind her ear, slow and deliberate, the way she liked best.
Gold’s purr kicked up instantly—loud, rumbling, vibrating through all three of us like a tiny motor.
She cracked one golden eye, gave him that haughty look (the one that said you’re late with tribute, peasant), then turned her head and butted it hard against my chin. Pet me too, girl. Now. Her paw landed on my cheek, soft pads pressing insistently until I lifted my hand to stroke down her back. The second my fingers sank into her silky black fur, she arched into it, eyes slitting in bliss.
Gods, she was spoiled rotten. And we loved it.
I leaned over to press a kiss to Vuk’s cheek—right where Gold’s tail had been—and he flushed that pretty crimson again, the devil himself looking almost shy. “Morning, tiger,” I whispered, grinning against his skin.
He growled low, playful, and scooped me closer until I was tucked against his side, Gold wedged firmly between us like the wedge of chaos she was born to be. “Morning, little moon. My angel baby.” His arms wrapped around both of us, warm and solid, while Gold kneaded harder into his shirt, claws pricking just enough to remind him who was really in charge.
She lifted her head suddenly, sniffing the air—probably smelling the coffee Vuk had set to brew on autopilot last night. Her ears perked, tail lashing once in demand. Food. Serve it. Immediately.
Vuk chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest into mine. “See? Tyrant wants breakfast. Better hop to it before she starts knocking things off the nightstand.”
I laughed, burying my face in Gold’s fur. She smelled like warm vanilla and mischief. “She’s got us both trained so well. What are we gonna do when she decides she wants a whole salmon for brunch?”
“Whatever Her Majesty commands,” Vuk said, deadpan, even as he leaned down to blow another soft raspberry on her exposed belly.
Gold yowled in fake outrage, twisted like a spring, and pounced—paws on his face now, grooming his cheek with rough little licks while her tail wrapped around my wrist like a cuff. No escaping the royal treatment.
I just watched them, heart full to bursting, fingers still tangled in her fur. My demon blushing, my spoiled princess purring like she’d won the universe… and me right in the middle of it all.
Morning duties came too fast.
Livia appeared at the chamber door with a soft knock, already holding the small golden tray that carried my morning tea and the day’s schedule etched on fine parchment. Her dark hair was pinned immaculately, her expression calm as always.
“The Court ladies await you this morning, my Luna,” she said quietly. “They have gathered in the High Matrons’ Hall.”
In other words—the elders’ wives, the mates of the high judges, the noble she-wolves whose bloodlines stretched back to the first flame-crowned kings. The women who quietly shaped the heart of the Northern Dominion while their males handled war and decrees.
I nodded, throat suddenly tight.
After my bath—hot water scented with moonflower and pine that still couldn’t quite wash away the faint trace of Vuk’s wildfire scent on my skin—I let the maids dress me. They moved with practiced reverence, sliding a simple white silk gown over my head. The fabric clung softly, modest yet unmistakably regal, ending just above my ankles. No heavy embroidery, no jewels except the thin silver crown they settled gently on my white-gold hair. The crescent moon at its center caught the torchlight and threw it back like a living thing.
Vuk had already left before dawn for an urgent meeting at one of his infernal companies—something about southern trade routes and a pack that needed reminding who ruled the North. He’d kissed the bite mark on my shoulder before he went, murmuring “Be strong, little moon” against my skin. Then he was gone, leaving only the echo of his heat behind.
Livia stepped forward once the maids withdrew. She offered her arm with quiet formality.
“Shall we, my Luna?”
We walked through torch-lit corridors that smelled of old stone, incense, and distant snow. The High Matrons’ Hall was deeper in the fortress than I expected—past the great throne room, down a spiraling stair of black marble veined with gold. The double doors were carved with crescent moons and running wolves; two silent guards bowed low and pushed them open.
The moment we crossed the threshold, every woman in the room rose.
There were perhaps twenty of them, seated in a wide half-circle of cushioned chairs around a long obsidian table. Elders’ mates in silver-threaded gowns, younger noblewomen with sharp eyes and proud postures, a few with the faint glow of old lunar scars on their throats. They wore no crowns, but power clung to them like smoke.
Livia guided me to the raised seat at the head—higher than the rest, carved from the same obsidian, cushioned in deep crimson velvet. A single flame burned in a brazier beside it, flickering gold.
I sat.
The ladies remained standing until I settled, then lowered themselves with perfect synchronicity.
I drew a slow breath, feeling the weight of twenty pairs of eyes—curious, assessing, hopeful.
“Good morning, ladies,” I said, keeping my voice soft but clear.
“Good morning, Luna,” they answered in perfect union, the words rolling through the hall like a gentle wave.
A heartbeat of silence.
Then the eldest among them—an silver-haired woman with eyes like chipped ice and the faint scent of winter roses—rose first. Her name was Lady Seraphine, mate to Elder Darius. She inclined her head deeply.
“Blessed be the Moon Goddess for bringing you to us, Luna Maureen,” she said, voice warm yet carrying the weight of centuries. “We have waited long for the one who would stand beside our Alpha Devil and carry his flame. Your mark shines true. The pack feels it already—the bond is strong, the air calmer. We are honored.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table.
A younger woman—dark-haired, sharp-featured, probably the mate of one of the judges—spoke next, her tone lighter but no less respectful.
“May Selene bless your union with many strong heirs, my Luna. The Dominion has not seen pups of such lineage in generations. We pray your womb quickens soon, and that your children inherit both your moonlight and his fire.”
Several heads nodded; a few smiled with genuine warmth. One older matron touched the crescent scar at her own throat absently, as though remembering her own claiming.
I felt heat rise in my cheeks but kept my chin level.
“Thank you,” I said. “I… feel the weight of that hope already. I will do everything in my power to honor it—and to honor all of you.”
Lady Seraphine’s eyes softened.
“You are new to our ways, yet you already speak with grace. That is rare.” She gestured to the table—platters of honeyed fruit, warm bread, spiced tea already steaming. “We are here not only to welcome you, but to serve you. If there is anything you require—guidance in the old rites, counsel on pack matters that touch the females and pups, or simply companionship—speak it. We are your circle now.”
A ripple of soft agreement.
One of the younger noblewomen—barely older than me, with bright hazel eyes—leaned forward slightly.
“We felt the bond snap into place the night he claimed you, Luna. The torches flared higher, the snow fell thicker. Even the omegas in the lower halls wept with joy. It has been… a long time since the fortress knew such power.”
I swallowed, fingers brushing the bite mark hidden beneath the gown’s high neckline. It still throbbed faintly when I thought of him.
“I’m still learning what it means,” I admitted. “But I want to learn well. For him. For all of you. For the pack.”
Silence again—but warmer this time.
Lady Seraphine smiled, small and almost genuine.
“Then we begin today. Sit with us. Eat. Tell us what you wish of your court… and we will tell you the secrets only the women of this Dominion know.”
I exhaled, tension easing from my shoulders just a fraction.
Livia poured tea for me first—silent, steady—then stepped back to her place near the wall.
I lifted the cup.
“To the Northern Dominion,” I said quietly. “And to the future we will build together.”
Twenty voices answered as one.
“To the Luna. To the future.”