The Wicked Alpha's Star-Crossed Luna

“Rena, Rena!” I blinked, looking up from my book just in time to see my sister burst through the door and slide into our shared bedroom, skidding to a stop as her eyes landed on me. Her excitement leaked through our bond, and I felt my lips tugging up at the corners. I didn’t even need to ask her what was going on. Even without our special bond as twin pups, I knew the reason for her enthusiasm. It only took a glance out the window that marked our reading nook for me to see what had her so worked up. “Oh, the sun’s down already,” I muttered, more to myself than her. I marked my page and shut the book, setting it aside for tomorrow. After tonight’s activities, I doubted I would have any energy left to read. “Rena, how can you sit there for so long and do nothing?” asked Carina, teasing me. She had her hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised and everything. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, moving to our shared closet. “I wasn’t doing nothing, I was reading. Don’t act like you don’t like reading, Cari. You used to love it more than me.” “Yeah, but I’m too excited to sit still and read anything!” she gushed, hot on my heels. “How are you always so calm?” I shrugged and flicked on the closet light. “I guess I just know that tonight won’t make a difference.” The light came on easily, illuminating our large walk-in closet. According to the original blueprints for the packhouse, it used to be a separate bedroom until our mother became pregnant with us. She insisted her daughters have all the best outfits for our stations, and my father immediately had our wing remodeled with us in mind. He was a loyal, devoted mate and a doting father, but I learned too young that he was so much more than that. My father commanded wolves and led squads into battle. He hosted war meetings, and he and my mother welcomed powerful strangers into our home. My father, Sterling Vespera, was the Alpha of the Starry Sky Pack--and tonight, as the Wolf Moon shines high above us, my twin sister and I will shift into our wolves for the first time. Hopefully. We weren’t like faeries, who are born with magick at their fingertips; nor like witches, who come into their powers at twelve for boys and thirteen for girls. All werewolves are born on a full moon, each with a different name, and the moon you are born under is the same moon under which you will first shift after puberty. There’s no set age--some wolves shift as early as ten years old, and others as late as fourteen. It varied for every wolf, but Carina and I attended the Full Moon Festival held on every Wolf Moon, just in case. Our parents weren’t forcing us, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’ve heard sad stories about kids my age being forced to attend every festival for their moon from the time they were nine. Mom and Dad hated stories like that, but they would always ask more questions whenever we would tell them about kids we went to school with who were in similar situations. I used to think it was because they were interested in our lives, but it only took a few times for me to figure out that they were using the information we gave them to seek out these families and intervene. I don’t really know what they did when they “intervened”, but Mom refused to stand by while there were kids in need. She was just being the perfect Luna, as always. Carina and I chatted aimlessly as we dressed, her eagerness to shift still bubbling through our connection. As identical twins, we shared more than our father’s wavy, raven-black hair tresses and his emerald green eyes. We also shared a bond, a link that formed between us in the womb and has persisted all our lives. We’ve always been able to do things normal kids couldn’t, like mind-linking even though we have yet to shift, and we always seemed to know how to find one another. There is one thing we could do that I knew other twins couldn’t, though: we could pass through each other’s dreams, and on occasion we share the same dream. Our parents were only a little surprised to hear this, but they asked us to keep it to ourselves. It wasn’t a big deal to us, so we did as they said. Carina and I emerged from our closet, dressed in matching long-sleeve dresses with flowy A-line skirts and gold sashes pulled around our waists and tied in loose bows. Cari’s dress was a bold peacock green, while mine was a soft shade of periwinkle blue. Comfortable gold flats hugged our feet, gold stud earrings dotted our lobes--hearts for Cari, stars for me--and we each wore a golden locket that hung from our necks, though we always kept it hidden beneath our clothing. They contained photos of those we cared for the most--on the left, our favorite picture of us as twins, and on the right were our parents. We preferred to dress in shades of our favorite colors--hers being green, mine being blue--and to wear gold-accented jewelry, which seemed to appease the elders on my father’s council on more than one occasion. “The princesses are always sporting the colors of our pack!” I’d heard one particularly old wolf boast. “What lovely Lunas they will make for two of our lucky allies!” I don’t think I have to tell you how annoyed I was to hear that--and how proud I was to hear my father snarl, “You forget yourself, Elder. One of my daughters will become the next Alpha of Starry Sky, and she will bow to no wolf." That was why tonight was so important. That was why everyone paid extra attention to us on the first Full Moon Festival after Yule, the Moon of the Wolf. The entire pack attended, eager to see not only what our wolves looked like, but who would shift first. Because the alpha heir to shift first will become the next leader of the Starry Sky Pack. As we exited our bedroom, Carina slid her hand into mine, our fingers interlocking as I heard her voice whisper in my mind. Do you think we’ll shift this time? I squeezed her hand gently. We will. But how do you know? We’re the alpha’s daughters, it’s our birth moon, and we’re in the middle of puberty, I pointed out as we descended the steps from the alpha floor. It’s our time to shine. She didn’t respond to my confidence right away. It wasn’t until after we had descended most of the stairs, smiling and nodding at the handful of cheerful omegas who passed us on the way, that Carina finally spoke again. But what if we don’t shift again? She whispered into my mind. Or only one of us shifts? Do you think Dad will be upset? I frowned at that. No… I don’t think so. The latest recorded age of a wolf’s first shift was fourteen. Even if we don’t shift for another two years, Dad will never be upset with us. But what if we’re not supposed to shift--? Carina! I stopped in my tracks, my grip on my twin’s hand holding her in place. We were just a few steps from turning a corner and being visible from the packhouse’s common area. I studied Carina’s face, watched as she chewed on her bottom lip and kept her eyes lowered. The fingers of her free hand were pulling at her sash, loosening it a little. Cari, I began again, garnering her attention. What’s going on? Did something happen? She shook her head but gave no other reply. I scowled at her. Cari-- It’s nothing, Rena! She whisper-shouted through our link, yanking her hand from my grip and stomping her foot for emphasis. I just… I’m nervous, okay? Last year, everyone thought we would shift early like Dad, and when we didn’t they looked so disappointed. I frowned again. Everyone who? Who was disappointed? The elders, and some of the warriors… Carina’s bottom lip quivered. A-And Grandfather. I scoffed aloud at the reminder that our grandfather, former Alpha Rigel, was coming to the festival. He was a rude old wolf, always at odds with our parents. Forget him. When we shift, it won’t be for him or Dad, or even the pack. It will be for ourselves. Okay? Carina nodded, taking my hand again with a faraway look in her eyes. Yeah. Okay. Then we descended the remaining steps together, her doubt bleeding through our link and becoming my own.