His Luna Was Never Me - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
You are reading His Luna Was Never Me, Chapter 1: Chapter 1. Read more chapters of His Luna Was Never Me.
The pack house was never really mine. It was meant to be a home—a sanctuary for an Alpha and his family—but Ronan Vale of the Obsidian Howl Pack never treated it that way. His presence was scarce, his attention fleeting. That's how it had always been. Even after I gave him a son, even after Kieran grew up waiting for a father who was never truly there, Ronan remained absent.
The only time I ever begged him for anything was for Kieran's last wish—to see the ocean with his parents. Was that too much to ask? A child's simple dream. Yet I had to plead, over and over, until he finally agreed. But on the eve of our trip, Ronan vanished. He left us behind, just like always. That same night, Kieran took his last breath, never getting to see the endless blue waves he'd dreamed of.
I buried my son alone. No comforting hand, no whispered words of solace from the mate who should have been beside me. Days later, I found out why he'd abandoned us—not for duty, not for some urgent Alpha responsibility. He'd been with my sister, Adeline Leclair. She'd wanted to see the snow, and Ronan had taken her thousands of miles away to find it. The proof was right there on her Instagram—a photo of them in the snow-capped mountains, her caption cutting through my grief like a knife:
"I said I wanted to see the snow, and you took me thousands of miles just to find it."
I didn't cry. I didn't scream. What was the point? My son was gone, and my mate had never been mine to begin with. So I packed my things. There was nothing left to keep me here.
But as I turned to leave, Ronan broke for the first time. He clung to me, his tears soaking my shoulder, his voice shaking with desperate pleas. Too late. His grief meant nothing to me now.
Returning from the cemetery to the pack house felt like walking through a graveyard of memories. Kieran's laughter still echoed in my mind—his tiny hands tugging at my dress, begging for just one more bedtime story. Now, the silence was suffocating. Every toy I packed away, every piece of clothing I folded, felt like I was erasing him from existence. My hands trembled as I held his things, tears falling without restraint.
But I couldn't stay. Not in this house. Not in this pack. Not with the man who had never truly been mine.
Dragging my suitcase downstairs, I froze when I saw Ronan carrying Adeline in his arms. She gazed up at him, fingers curled around his neck like she belonged there. And maybe, in his eyes, she did. He walked right past me without a glance, setting her down on the couch with a tenderness I'd never known.
"Anastasia Leclair," his voice was ice. "Is this just another one of your dramatic stunts?"
Adeline, playing innocent, sighed. "Anastasia, I twisted my ankle, and since Ronan said the Obsidian Howl Pack was nearby, he brought me here to take care of it. You don't mind, do you?"
I watched as he tended to her, his hands gentle, his touch worshipful. A twisted ankle—that was all it took for him to drop everything and run to her.
I remembered when I'd been hurt. A rogue attack had left me with a broken leg, and in my desperation, I'd reached out through our mind link, foolishly hoping for concern.
"A broken leg isn't life or death," he'd said. "You already escaped the rogue. Why bother me?"
That was when I knew. Ronan had never cared. Not for me. Not for Kieran. His wolf should have sensed his mate's pain, should have felt my suffering—but he'd been indifferent.
Now, standing there watching him dote on my sister, the truth was undeniable. I had never been his priority. Never his exception. He'd been forced to take me as his mate, but his heart had always belonged to Adeline.
If it had been her instead of me, she would've been Luna of the Obsidian Howl Pack by now. But it was me—me, who'd given him the power to become Alpha. And still, I was just a placeholder. A name on paper. Nothing in his heart.
My fingers tightened around the suitcase handle. I'd made my choice. There was no going back.
The only time I ever begged him for anything was for Kieran's last wish—to see the ocean with his parents. Was that too much to ask? A child's simple dream. Yet I had to plead, over and over, until he finally agreed. But on the eve of our trip, Ronan vanished. He left us behind, just like always. That same night, Kieran took his last breath, never getting to see the endless blue waves he'd dreamed of.
I buried my son alone. No comforting hand, no whispered words of solace from the mate who should have been beside me. Days later, I found out why he'd abandoned us—not for duty, not for some urgent Alpha responsibility. He'd been with my sister, Adeline Leclair. She'd wanted to see the snow, and Ronan had taken her thousands of miles away to find it. The proof was right there on her Instagram—a photo of them in the snow-capped mountains, her caption cutting through my grief like a knife:
"I said I wanted to see the snow, and you took me thousands of miles just to find it."
I didn't cry. I didn't scream. What was the point? My son was gone, and my mate had never been mine to begin with. So I packed my things. There was nothing left to keep me here.
But as I turned to leave, Ronan broke for the first time. He clung to me, his tears soaking my shoulder, his voice shaking with desperate pleas. Too late. His grief meant nothing to me now.
Returning from the cemetery to the pack house felt like walking through a graveyard of memories. Kieran's laughter still echoed in my mind—his tiny hands tugging at my dress, begging for just one more bedtime story. Now, the silence was suffocating. Every toy I packed away, every piece of clothing I folded, felt like I was erasing him from existence. My hands trembled as I held his things, tears falling without restraint.
But I couldn't stay. Not in this house. Not in this pack. Not with the man who had never truly been mine.
Dragging my suitcase downstairs, I froze when I saw Ronan carrying Adeline in his arms. She gazed up at him, fingers curled around his neck like she belonged there. And maybe, in his eyes, she did. He walked right past me without a glance, setting her down on the couch with a tenderness I'd never known.
"Anastasia Leclair," his voice was ice. "Is this just another one of your dramatic stunts?"
Adeline, playing innocent, sighed. "Anastasia, I twisted my ankle, and since Ronan said the Obsidian Howl Pack was nearby, he brought me here to take care of it. You don't mind, do you?"
I watched as he tended to her, his hands gentle, his touch worshipful. A twisted ankle—that was all it took for him to drop everything and run to her.
I remembered when I'd been hurt. A rogue attack had left me with a broken leg, and in my desperation, I'd reached out through our mind link, foolishly hoping for concern.
"A broken leg isn't life or death," he'd said. "You already escaped the rogue. Why bother me?"
That was when I knew. Ronan had never cared. Not for me. Not for Kieran. His wolf should have sensed his mate's pain, should have felt my suffering—but he'd been indifferent.
Now, standing there watching him dote on my sister, the truth was undeniable. I had never been his priority. Never his exception. He'd been forced to take me as his mate, but his heart had always belonged to Adeline.
If it had been her instead of me, she would've been Luna of the Obsidian Howl Pack by now. But it was me—me, who'd given him the power to become Alpha. And still, I was just a placeholder. A name on paper. Nothing in his heart.
My fingers tightened around the suitcase handle. I'd made my choice. There was no going back.
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