His Cursed Luna

|| Penelope || “I, Elijah Benson, the Alpha of Royal Moon Pack, reject you, Penelope Adalbert, as my Mate and Luna.” The words rang in my head, each syllable a bitter reminder of the love that I had lost. My own breath got caught in my throat, and the ground beneath me vanished. I grasped my gown tightly, my shaking hands the only thing keeping me whole as I stood in front of the man who had once been my whole world. The atmosphere in the grand hall was electric with tension, a palpable cloak of heaviness draped over me where I stood immobilized. My already vulnerable heart broke into pieces with every pronouncement that emerged from Elijah's mouth. His voice, so warm and gentle previously, was now cold as ice and harsh as a razor, slicing into me like an instrument. His warm, loving eyes were now a cold, empty void, expressionless. They cut through me, making me vulnerable and open to the whole kingdom. The man I loved, trusted, and built a life with was ripping me apart, bit by bit, before the whole kingdom. "I, soon to be Alpha King of Goldenrealm Kingdom, thus denounce you as my Queen." His words were bitter, each one oozing venom as they resonated in the grand hall. The audience, which had been abuzz with excitement, now stood in shock, their eyes flicking back and forth between Elijah and me. The stark difference between us was jarring—he was standing upright, proud and unbending, whereas I was a shadow of the woman I had been. "You are no longer worthy to stand beside me." His words struck me like a punch, and I recoiled, my legs trembling beneath me. My face, already pale with stress and sickness for the last few months, appeared to grow even paler as the force of his rejection washed over me. I let out a soft, weak sigh, hardly heard, as though the rejection had taken my breath away. My hand involuntarily rose to cover my belly, where the life I bore had once represented love and hope. But now, the feeling of life developing within me was a painful reminder of how all of that had been ripped asunder. The cloying smell of sandalwood, which had once soothed me on dark, stormy nights, permeated the air, choking me. It was a reminder of the man who once loved me but now appeared so far away, so uncaring. Tears filled my eyes, the force of his rejection piercing my defenses finally. I had not thought this way, never anticipated that the man who had taken everything from me would so easily release me. My voice shook, my words fractured and feeble, fighting to escape my lips. "H-how could you?" The great hall was filled with stifled gasps and hushed murmurs, a wave of shock washing over the assembled spectators. The night had begun as one of revelry, a night to go and witness the coronation of Goldenrealm's new Alpha King and Queen. The entire castle was adorned like a bride on her wedding night, draped in golden banners and twinkling lights, filled with fragrant flowers cascading from the high chandeliers. There was music in the air, laughter echoing through the corridors, and excitement building in the hearts of the people of the kingdom. But all of that had come to a crashing halt. The future Alpha King had just disowned his wife. There had been a collective gasp at his callous refusal, and now incredulity clung heavy in the atmosphere. I was frozen in the middle of it all, my former regal stature now brought low beneath the weight of betrayal. My breathing was in jagged gasps as I struggled to comprehend what had occurred. And then, out of the shocked multitude, stepped forward an old man. His voice, though old, was commanding, requiring attention. "Elijah, how dare you insult the princess before the entire kingdom, within her own castle?" Ancient Gerald, one of the oldest born Lycans, the most honored members of Ancient Assembly, roared. His face was lined with wisdom and disillusionment as he looked at the young Alpha King. Elijah did not blink. He did not falter. Rather, he moved nearer to the elder, his eyes unflinching, his face a mask of icy resolve, as though he had expected this to happen. "Forgive my forthrightness, Ancient Gerald, but this woman does not deserve the title Queen." Again, his words created a stir in the crowd, gasps and whispered comments circulating through the room. I fought for a long time in my heart before accepting the truth. My wolf has never approached hers, despite her being Lycan-born. My stomach twisted in knots at what he said. "I didn't believe it at first," my so-called husband went on. "I said to myself, 'Nothing to it.' But then I discovered the truth—she has no inner wolf. She smells like one, but she is nothing but a maiden without wolves." His tone turned rigid, his eyes blazing as he spoke to the people. "And why would a wolfless woman, a simple mortal, be deserving of being a queen?" There was a thick, uncomfortable silence thereafter. My heart was racing against my ribs. I could hardly breathe, much less speak. How dare he say such a thing? He knew. He had always known. He had wooed me, consoled me, and married me despite it. And now he was holding it against me in the very worst way possible, as though I had misled him rather than the other way around. "That is the truth," a voice that I knew interrupted, cutting through tension like a knife. I turned my head slowly, holding my breath in my throat. Princess Isabella. My cousin. The woman I had grown up with. The woman I had trusted. Isabella stood beside Elijah now, tall and proud, her chin lifted almost imperceptibly. Her golden hair glowed in the torchlight, and her green eyes, formerly warm and sparkling with humor, were cold, calculating. "We were raised together in this very castle," Isabella went on, her voice smooth and even. "And I've never known her to change. Never." Lord Gerald's expression contorted in puzzlement. "How can that be? She was from an Ancient Lycan line.". "I don't think so," Isabella answered with ease. "I never felt that connection with her." My stomach churned at her words. I hardly noticed the gasps of the people around me. My vision blurred, and my head spun. Isabella and Elijah stood side by side now, their figures silhouetted against the hall's golden banners, a vision of strength and solidarity. They appeared royal. Strong. Just. And then, for the first time, I really felt insignificant. My chest tightened as a new, frightening thought entered my mind. Had it been the plan all along? Was I blind to it the whole time? I couldn't consider the idea any further since Isabella spoke once more. "Then there was the ma.ssa.cre," she continued, her voice solemn, her green eyes darkening. "One of the worst days in our history.". A shiver went through the crowd as the recollection returned. "We lost ten of our most loyal warriors," Isabella continued. "And two of our most valuable advisors." She exhaled sharply, sorrow misting her features, but I could see it now—the practiced performance, the hidden triumph behind the grief. It was a dagger to the heart when I understood. I clenched my teeth, my nails biting into the material of my gown as my entire body shook with tightly contained anger. Now, I saw it. Every single life that was lost in that ma.ssac.re had been pledged to me, loyal to me, and all of them had tried desperately to warn me about Elijah and Isabella. But I had been blind, refusing to believe the worst of the people I trusted most. And now, I was paying the price for my naivety. Bridget. I felt a burning sensation across my chest at the name of my best friend and trusted advisor. She had been with me through everything, through the burden of royalty, the stress of the council, the difficulties of co-ruling with Elijah. Isabella had despised Bridget, always whispering poisonous things into my ear, attempting to get me to dismiss her. But I never had. I had trusted Bridget's loyalty, her unfaltering devotion. And now Bridget was dead. Now, I finally understood. The sweet, innocent cousin that I had known my whole life, the one that I had trusted and confided in and protected, was no more than a snake in the grass waiting to strike. Isabella had planned all of this ahead of time, and I had voluntarily walked right into her trap. My heart, already broken by loss, was further shattered by the feeling of yet another betrayal. But nothing. nothing could have possibly prepared me for the man standing with Isabella. Elijah. My mate. My husband. The father of my unborn child. My throat constricted as I locked eyes with him, hunting for something—anything—of the man I used to know. The man who had chased me for years, who had promised me forever, who had sworn to be at my side through every storm and every strife. But all I found was icy indifference. A stranger with his face. "We have proof to demonstrate that mas.sacr.e was the result of a dark ritual carried out by the witches," Elijah's voice echoed in the hallway, resolute and strong. My breath hitched. His golden eyes, warm when he gazed at me earlier, now speared me with blatant accusation. A wolfless Lycan born of noble bloodlines can never exist," he went on, his voice cutting through me like a dagger. "And it's virtually impossible to fool the royal family and remain undetected in the castle for this long. She must have been involved with the witches, employing their dark magic to conceal her true self.". There were gasps throughout the hall, the audience shrinking back in horror at his incriminating accusation. I could feel the walls tightening around me. I could barely recognize the man before me. Was this really Elijah? The same man who had hugged me on chilly nights, who had whispered sweet things in my ear, who had vowed to defend me no matter what? He knew. He had never concealed my wolf from anyone. From the day he chose me, he had known the truth. I was royal-born. I was wolfless. But I had never hidden that from him. He had accepted it. He had said again and again that it did not matter. And yet, there he was—turning my own deepest shame back on me as a weapon. My chest constricted in agony, his treachery crushing me, choking me. I felt like someone had driven a stake into my heart and was turning it ruthlessly to wring out the last shreds of love and trust I ever had for him. It was unbearable. "That's a lie." The words ripped from my mouth, my voice shaking with a combination of anger and sadness. The whole hall was silent. My shoulders trembled, my fists tight at my sides as I made myself look Elijah in the eye. "How could you slander me like this, Elijah?" I insisted, my voice raspy, beseeching. "You, more than anyone, know me best." My blue eyes implored his, hoping to find even a spark of the connection that had been between us. Did it mean nothing to him? I had known we were not destined mates, yet still, we had shared years together. We had constructed this kingdom together, side by side. We had battled together, ruled together, faced every hardship together. I had defended him, shielded him, loved him, even offered him my kingdom. And now, he had thrown me to the hyenas. My hand automatically went to my stomach, the slightest stir of life growing inside me. My baby. His baby. Did that mean anything to him? But the chill in Elijah's eyes did not falter. If anything, it only intensified. How could he slander me before everyone? How could he refuse me, destroying the bond, especially when I was pregnant with his future child! My heart swelled with resentful thoughts. Elijah moved a step closer, closing the distance between us. His eyes darkened as he bent down to my level, "I never want a heartless witch as my mate. You have deceived me, along with the entire Kingdom, and you must pay the price. Also, I cannot let my people live under the control of a dark witch."